Deathcatcher

Let me share with you a dream I had a couple of weeks ago. How I remember every tiny detail is freaky in itself, but if this kind of thing interests you, do read on.

I was part of a household. There was a married couple, the wife's elder spinster sister, and an old man - probably the husband's father. Their faces did not resemble anyone I know from real life. I lived with them in a second floor spacious apartment with an air of antique grandiosity. High ceilinged with tall french windows. The ladies wore long dresses and the men, coats.

One stormy night, when we were all gathered in the house's great room, the old man died. Outside, the winds howled. Rain poured hard with thunder and lightning. Soon after, there was a funeral and we buried the old man.

Some time after, I found myself looking out the street below from the window. I saw the ghost of the old man. The ghost helped save a young man from his death by pulling him just in time to escape being hit by a vehicle. Immediately after the act, the old man looked up at me through the window with intent gaze.

I blinked and he was right before me. The old man told me that he was not supposed to die. And the young man below the street would have also died if the old man were not around. I was told that I was the one who was supposed to die that night. Not the old man. And by consequence, neither did the young man.

He disappeared as suddenly as he came and I found myself alone in the great room. The sun was out. It was a glorious day outside. I was sitting down and just quietly taking in the cheerful sunshine. The sisters gaily walked in at that moment. They had their long wavy hair cut short and asked me whether I liked their new look. I smiled ad them and said they looked really nice.

The elder sister walked toward me, bent down, and gave me a hug. When she loosened her arms around me, I opened my eyes and found the room completely transformed. The brilliant day was replaced by a gloomy night, the bright sunshine with heavy rain. Everyone was present in the room, even the old man. I looked at the woman who just embraced me, and before my very eyes, her newly cut hair grew out to its original length. I realized that we all came back to the fateful night of death. The spinster's face became expressionless and in a monotonic voice she said, "This is how it was supposed to be."

And at that point, I couldn't breathe. I gasped and struggled for air. And they just all looked at me like an audience while I lay dying.

I swear I still felt the sensation of the embrace when I woke up. I sat up and hyperventilated for a while, ressuring myself that I could indeed breathe in this reality. I was shaken for a time. It still creeps me out when I remember it.

If there was a dream interpreter I could approach, I would have arranged for a consultation. With a condition that all analysis pertaining to extreme morbidity will be stripped to bare minimum and its correlation to my whole being will be downplayed.

Maybe all I need is a good authentic Native American dreamcatcher. With a deatcatching expansion pack.