Written September 9, 2016
For a long time, I had a recurring (scary) dream about a haunted house. I was with my parents, and we were looking for a house to move into. Back in 2011, my parents and I spent a lot of time here in Georgia house hunting, so I feel the dream begins from that past experience. This house hunting dream always has my family and I going to this one house, a house I’ve never personally seen before. I guess the house is basically a manifestation of my personal dream house. Anyways, my parents and the realtor are talking about the house and neighborhood while I’m exploring the rooms and such. It’s a nice house.
It has a huge front door with a big staircase by the door leading down. It doesn’t lead to a basement; it just slopes down to a level of the house that was built on lower land. That lower level has a living room with a huge fireplace and porch outside. If you go back up the stairs to the front door, that whole level has a kitchen and master bedroom and bathroom. Then I walk into a room on that level that would be my room, except there’s a weird, slim door in the corner. I open the door and it contains this sketchy staircase. It’s all unfinished wood, with creaking steps and cracked walls. Up those stairs is a small hallway with two doors on either side and directly ahead is a flimsy ladder made of wood and rope.
Behind both of those doors are children’s rooms, one for a young girl and one for a young boy. Both rooms are still completely furnished and filled with toys. The boy’s room has a window that’s open a crack. I always enter the boys room first, maybe because I grew up always wanting a little brother. Then I hear laughter, and turn around to an empty hallway, your typical horror movie type content. I am quite the horror movie buff, so maybe that interest effects the mood of this recurring dream. I continue to explore by going up the rickety ladder hanging from the ceiling. It leads to the attic, where 4 nooses hang from the ceiling. I, of course, run out screaming. I go to the main floor and my family and realtor are gone. I head footsteps from the attic, so I run to that weird lower level and out on the porch. I hear rustling in a bush nearby and go to it. There’s a small boy, who’s skin is as black as midnight and his eyes are the same color. The only thing you can see is his outline and crazy smile. Then I wake up.
This dream happened about every night for a year and a half. I feel like it represents my fear of the unknown, and my fear of people. People are capable of some pretty terrible things, whether those terrible things are to other humans or to themselves. I feel like both of these fears are accurately represented in this dream. I also feel like my dissatisfaction with the house my parents chose all those years ago is another factor in this weird nightmare.