Dreams have always been fascinating to me. Psychology in general is one of my interests, and something I nearly studied in college. With what intention, I don’t know. I knew I couldn’t be a therapist — I’m too empathetic for that. I take on others’ emotions in such a powerful way that if I were exposed to strong and intense emotions for constant periods of time, I would lose myself. But my interest in psychology — the why people act and behave the way they do — has always been one of my top interests.

To know the inner workings of oneself is to have a unique power over your body and mind. To know others is to reach a new level of patience and compassion, empathy, and connection. This is why I tend to analyze every small movement, every slight change in tone, when I’m around people in general. And this is why, when the time calls for it, I turn this attention around on myself.

I had another opportunity to study myself from something akin to a stranger’s point of view recently. I had a dream that was not only disturbingly vivid and filled with tension, but one that also continued every time I woke up and fell back asleep. Because of the trauma from my childhood, I used to have vivid dreams nearly every night. Half the time, these were nightmares, and even from a young age, I knew this wasn’t normal. I didn’t know exactly what was causing it until I moved out at 22 and the dreams stopped. Not all at once, but gradually, the nightmares started losing their sting, and the details I could so viscerally remember every morning started vanishing before I woke up, until here was a day when having no dreams at all became my normal.

To be honest, it bummed me out at first, not having dreams anymore. Dreams are so uniquely captivating and puzzling that I thought myself special to have so many all the time. I thought there was something wrong with my mind at first when the dreams started fading. The more I read up on why this may occur, though, the more I learned that this was a good sign. It meant my body was no longer in a constant state of stress and triggers that demanded the need for constant processing of that trauma, even in my sleep. Even though a part of me still misses the vivid adventures of my dreams sometimes, I’ve come to accept it as a sign that I have healed in some regard.

However, this knowledge is not restricted to pointing out positive change in my life, because stress never fully goes away. You can’t erase all triggers from your life or stop difficult times from coming. And when they do, they bring the nightmares back with them. Now, when I have dreams, whether they’re good or bad, I write them down and pay attention. Because they only come around now when there’s something important happening to me. Something I need to focus on and be mindful of.

I had a nightmare recently that hasn’t fully left my mind for a couple of weeks. I woke up the next day from it, completely engrossed in why it was so persistent throughout the night and trying to figure out the symbolism in it. Now that I’ve had some time to process it and speak with someone about what it may mean, I rewrite about it in the hopes that I will find any final closure that I didn’t get before (but also to entertain you, my dear reader, as well). Who knows? Maybe you’ll find something in it that didn’t occur to me before…

~~~~~

I’m somewhere new. A new city, new atmosphere. It’s bright and welcoming, brimming with the promise of adventures to have and places to explore. I don’t know why I’m here, but I’m ready to make the most of my time in this place. I’m in a mall with many floors — more so than what I’m used to. Maybe five or six in total? It’s hard to tell from where I start at the top, but it doesn’t feel daunting or overwhelming. I look up, and the entire ceiling is a massive dome-like skylight. The sun shining high casts a warm, white glow over the busy floors, and the people who wander here search for something new to see, as I do. The expansive environment only makes me nervous for a minute, but primarily makes me hopeful for the things I may discover.

I start to wander. Aimlessly, tirelessly.

I float freely through this space as I take in all there is to see.

There is a vague feeling that I may be trapped in this enormous mall for a while. It’s just so large that I’m not confident I’ll find an exit easily. But this thought doesn’t stop me or slow me down. I watch myself walk around with a smile on my face, my craving for something new satisfied with every new shop I come across. Time isn’t passing here yet, so there’s no way to know how long I roamed but I felt as if I could stay there forever.

Then something shifted.

I was closing in on the end of the mall. I had the impression this whole time that it was a circular shape that would bring me back to the beginning at some point but as I started seeing fewer people on the same floor, and as the scene started dimming with shadows that seemed to creep along the walls in front of me, I knew it would be time to turn back soon. It felt a bit colder here, and there was a quiet stillness to the air that made me feel uneasy. Along with the absence of light-hearted mallgoers there was a distinct shift in the crowded, bustling shops of the main area to these dark and uninviting cavernous spaces that remained vacant of any business. It didn’t feel right, and as I continued, my footsteps slowed; my movements quieted so as not to disturb the eerie stillness around me.

It didn’t feel dangerous, but it felt like a warning of something to come. The space itself seemed to be warding me off, willing me to turn back. I heard it’s warning, but I figured since I made it all the way out here, I might as well see what was at the end. When I finally made it to the end, I came to a railing overlooking the floors below. It was much darker here as I leaned over the side to see what, if anything, occupied this distant space with me.

As I looked over the edge with slow, calculated movements, I saw what could only be described as a hotel lobby. There was dark, red carpeting on the floor and the walls were made of equally dark wood that was carved in a way that felt expensively vintage. The only lighting here was provided by dimly lit sconces on the walls. This light wasn’t inviting but rather felt like it was only there so you could witness any horrors that may happen here. There were men gathered below me in this space, all in suits and most with crystal glasses filled with amber-colored liquids. None of them noticed me as they all spoke to each other in quiet voices. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it felt like I wasn’t supposed to know anyway. I could feel the patience of the space around me wearing thin — I had overstayed my welcome. I turned to leave, left with nothing but confusion and an unsettling feeling over what I had come across.

As I was heading back towards the heart of the mall where I had started, the light became brighter again. But this time, it didn’t feel warm or welcoming. I saw a few more people occasionally walking nearby as I neared civilization again, but the air still felt eerie, and the light was suddenly overwhelmingly bright and too white to be natural. I remember wrapping my arms around myself as my brows furrowed in concentration, trying to make sense of the shift.

I walked across a skybridge and was nearing a shuttered kiosk that I needed to turn at when I heard something that shattered the stillness I was engulfed in. I heard a woman screaming and multiple sets of footsteps behind me. I ducked behind the kiosk so as not to be seen and poked my head far enough around the corner to watch what was happening.

I saw a woman running away from a group of men in masks. The masks were animal-like in nature, but with distorted versions of well-known creatures like pigs and rabbits. The men themselves, despite being the same size and build as normal men, were also distorted in ways. Their limbs moved with jerky, erratic movements, and some of them even ran on all fours. Some, rather than running, scaled the walls nearby and chose to use that as their mode of chasing the woman. Their human appearance was an illusion of some sort to hide whatever monsters they truly were.

I stood frozen in fear behind the kiosk as I watched the woman seem to trip over her own feet and come crashing to the pristine, white tiled floor of the skybridge I had been on only moments before. I saw the expression of pure fear on her face as she struggled to get up while trying to turn around to see how close the group had gotten to her. Too close, was the answer. They were on top of her in seconds, crowding around her in a sort of dogpile until I couldn’t see her anymore. I turned to run before the real screaming even started. However they were torturing her was not something I wanted to see, and I knew if I stayed, it’d only be a matter of time before they found me too.

So, I ran.

I ran as the environment changed around me. I wasn’t paying attention to what it was turning into, because I could only focus on the strange and creepy way the men’s bodies moved. I had the distinct feeling that one of them was behind me — not close, but not far off either. I just kept going, with tears in my eyes and the cold air stinging my lungs.

My eyes closed only for a moment, and when I opened them again, I was somewhere different. The same city, but maybe somewhere on the outskirts of it. There was nothing but an older, two-lane road lined with power lines, a few cars, and surrounded by nothing but dry, empty farmland. The sky was lined with ominous clouds that cast a sickly green glow as the night closed in, something I instinctively knew was dangerous without explanation.

I knew I wasn’t supposed to be out in the open at night, though I couldn’t really pinpoint what would happen if I were. As I ran, I looked for somewhere to take shelter and came across a man in the process. He was normal, like me. And terrified. We ran along the cars together, not talking but both with the same idea that maybe we could seek shelter in one of them. He mumbled about something bad happening at night, and with every second that passed, I felt his panic grow increasingly stronger. I felt he could turn into a liability for me quickly, so I stopped and took in my surroundings more. I noticed a small house in the middle of one of the dirt fields. The lights inside were on, but barely. I was weighing the pros and cons of busting into a stranger’s house versus staying out here with the man when I heard him start to scream. I turned to watch him suddenly shift the direction he was running in and head towards a car that I was next to. He tried to rip open the door, but it was locked. He banged on the window and tried the handle numerous times to no avail. Confused by this shift in him, I could only stand there frozen as our eyes met, and I felt a coldness run through my blood. A dark figure appeared behind him. This figure had the same erratic movements as the men in the mall, but it was shrouded in some sort of black smoke that made working out its shape difficult. I watched in terror as the figure towered over the man and dragged him down behind the car and out of sight. His screams tore through my composure as I immediately raced to the house in the field.

When I got close enough to the front door, I never crossed the threshold, but I was suddenly inside. I stood right by the front door, which had closed and locked behind me. I was gasping for air and sure my skin was as white as the perfect tiled floor that woman died on as I took in my new surroundings once again. It was a simple, single-story house made nearly entirely of lacquered wood that was as dark as the walls in that meeting space I spied on earlier.

To my left was a wood-burning stove with a pile of logs next to it. A small box TV stood on a shelf next to that, and an oval-shaped rug lay on the floor separating those from an old man who lounged casually in a recliner. He was watching the TV, but the volume was barely up. To my right was a kitchen, modest and clean, where an older woman moved slowly around, rearranging things on the counters. Directly ahead of me was a hallway with a couple of rooms on either side of it, and one room at the very end. Neither the woman nor the man noticed me, or if they did, they gave no acknowledgement of my presence, as if they weren’t surprised that someone just showed up in their house.

Though they seemed normal on the outside, human in every way, there was something off about them, too. Their movements were smooth, but slow. Too slow, as if they were moving at half speed. They didn’t talk, and both of them kept busy with mindless tasks that didn’t actually accomplish anything. I felt uneasy here, but compared to the horror of what awaited outside, I had no choice but to stay.

My time spent there felt like an intrusion. Neither of them spoke to me or even looked at me much, and I had the knowledge that they understood why I was there and needed to stay put, but there was a slight impatience they felt with me. I could sense it — the way it bothered them that I was there, but how they weren’t going to ask me to leave. I tried to stay out of their way as much as possible.

I knew I could leave in the morning because traveling during the day was safe, but when the morning came and I started gathering some of my things in duffel bags that were suddenly there, including my family’s pet cats, I couldn’t go. Something about the timing felt off — I tried packing some things, but every time I turned to look for my belongings, they disappeared. The only constants were the cats, and I resigned to the fact that I would have to shove both of them in the bags to take them with me. The more time I spent there, I felt a silent warning from the couple: do not go into the room at the end of the hall. The first time I felt the command stronger, I turned to look at the room. The door was mostly closed, but cracked a few inches, and I could see that inside was pitch black. The longer I stared at it, the more I felt an evil presence inside; it felt like something was just inside the doorway staring back at me. I tried not to look at that room more than I had to, and absolutely have no intention of going in there.

Another night had passed in that house, and as my second morning there began, I started to gather my things again. I saw one of the two cats next to me, staring up at me with full, round eyes, tail swishing lazily as if it had no clue of the danger we were in. I looked around for the second cat to see where she had wandered off to. I turned around just in time to see her walk herself through the crack in the door of the room at the end of the hallway. My heart sank and I felt the coldness return to my veins. I struggled with what to do. For some reason, I needed to bring the cats with me. It felt imperative. But my instinct to just forget about her and save myself was too great to ignore. I knew I couldn’t leave her behind, but I also couldn’t go in after her. Waiting for her to just come out on her own (if she ever did) could mean another night here, which also sounded like a bad idea.

While I struggled with what to do, the couple started acting more strangely than usual. At the same time, they both seemed to snap into a daze of some sort that forced them into action. Slowly, they both started off in opposite directions in the house. The woman left out a side door to go outside while I watched the man head towards the room at the end of the hall. He disappeared inside, the darkness swallowing him whole as the woman softly closed the door behind her. I stood alone in the living room, too frozen in confusion to know what to do. What ultimately ended up happening was me staying there another night. But the woman never came back inside, not even when night fell again and she surely was past the point of being safe outside. And the man never came out of that room and I knew he wasn’t going to.

I stayed curled up on the living room floor that night as the house took on a more ominous atmosphere. I was close to fear paralysis and knew I couldn’t stay another night here after this one was done. At some point in the night, my cat came back out of that room as if nothing strange has happened. I was relieved and no longer had any reservations about shoving them in a bag if it meant I could leave when I saw the sun rise again. Throughout the night, the darkness in the room started to grow and seep into the hallway — the same dark smokiness I watched engulf the man in the street slowly crept its way down the hallway, not able to reach me, but growing in strength. I could only sit on the floor and watch it.

When the morning came again, I had a new resolve. I stood up with urgency and turned to my sister, who was suddenly there with me. I felt confused but quickly wiped it away as I started to gather things. I was explaining to her what had happened since I’d been there, and what it meant to be out at night. As I spoke, I packed. I watched myself from a third perspective, moving with careful movements as my perspective shifted around the room. It was mostly the same, but the TV had turned off at some point and the fire that had been burning for nearly three days straight was out. It was a clear indication we couldn’t stay here anymore.

The scene focused back into my explanation to my sister, and though I warned her persistently that we needed to move, she was unfazed. She wanted to stay, I could tell. I desperately tried to get her to leave with me, but before I knew it, night fell again. I felt defeated and terrified and utterly exhausted by everything that had been happening to me. I had little fight left in me, but I knew tonight was not the night to let my guard down. It felt more dangerous than the others had.

The presence in the room was stronger and taunting us it felt like. Its reach had grown, and it had taken up nearly the entire hallway. All the lights in the house were burning low as the threat of total darkness loomed over us. My sister was still unaffected, seemingly oblivious to the imminent danger looming over us. I tried to keep busy; I knew focusing on the room and whatever was inside of it was only going to make things worse, give it more power somehow. So, we both busied ourselves with exploring the parts of the house that were safe, a weak word to use because nowhere in the house truly felt secure. The more I wandered around aimlessly, the more I thought back to how the couple acted when I first came into this house. They, too, busied themselves with mindless things that seemed completely meaningless until now. Now, I feel like I understood them in a way that I never wanted to…

The longer this night progressed, the heavier everything felt. It felt endless in that cramped, dark, stuffy house. And with each minute that passed the closer that thing seemed to get to us. The entire hallway was pitch black now, so we stayed in the living room and the kitchen. My nerves were fried but I stayed on constant alert. At some point, my sister’s desire to stay in that house seemed to dissipate, and she was understanding the need for us to leave.

Finally, morning came. The presence was never able to reach past the hallway, and with the first rays of sunlight coming in through the window, it retreated into the room entirely. The heaviness of the night lifted, and we both broke free of our mindlessly wandering states. We got to work shoving things and cats in bags.

We were just wrapping up the last couple of things we needed and starting to feel more hopeful when something pulled our attention simultaneously to the room. The air felt lighter, cleaner somehow. Though I didn’t forget how dangerous that area was just hours before, we could see the inside had changed now. Instead of its usual impenetrable darkness, it was glowing from the sun’s light that somehow made its way into that room. We could tell it was safe to explore now, but I was still wary of it. I couldn’t shake the feeling that even if that presence seemed to be gone, the old man had still gone in there, so at the very least, there was a body I most likely didn’t want to see.

Despite my reservations, we went in there together.

And when we opened the door, we weren’t greeted with the cold, rigor mortis-stricken remains of the seemingly possessed man. We were met with a normal-looking room, completed with a neatly made, twin bed against one wall, a writing desk against another, and a closet attached to another. It was the kind of guest room grandparents tidy up for their grandkids to stay in for sleepovers. It was clean. It was welcoming. It was bright.

And yet, there was still an eerie feeling that plagued me that I couldn’t place. The mere fact that we were in here was not the danger I was sensing, but as I looked around more carefully for anything out of place, while my sister looked around more, my eyes landed on the closet. The chill crawled back up my spine, and I knew whatever evil presence that had threatened us before was confined to that closet. I stood at the doorway, my eyes glued on that closet for any movement, while she looked around for something useful for our travels. I could hear her muttering about a map that we needed, and while I didn’t think it was that important to grab one, I let her look while my gaze was fixed on the closet like a watchdog.

At some point, she stopped and turned to the closet, not having found what she claimed we desperately needed. She turned serious suddenly and said something like, “The map is in the closet.” I told her we should definitely not go in there, but met her at the door to the closet anyway. It’s the kind that slides open, and for a moment, we both just stood there looking at it before moving. She tried to open it, but as soon as she got it a few inches open, something from the inside grabbed it from her grip and yanked it shut again. I maintained that we shouldn’t be doing this, that we needed to go, but she was insistent. She was stuck in another trance, it seemed like, because she just kept repeating, “The map is in there, we need it to leave; the map is in there…”

Against my better judgment, we tried to open the door again and this time, when that thing went to pull it shut, we both used all of our strength to pry it loose until it finally opened wide. With the door finally slid out of the way, we could see what it was harboring inside. Instead of being met with the presence I expected to come face to face with, all we could see were shelves and hangers completely jam-packed with random household items. There wasn’t an inch of bare or open space inside. It looked like a hoarder’s closet, and though not one of the objects was threatening in and of itself, there was still that presence I kept sensing. I urged her that we needed to hurry, but something shifted again. The longer I looked at all the junk piled high, the more clarity I seemed to get. The thing inside was mad at us, sure, but I could sense how weak it was in the daytime. It didn’t want us here in its home, but it had little strength to do anything about it. Feeling a little better but not fully satisfied for our safety, I felt reluctant to touch anything inside in search of the map. The thing wanted to be left alone, and that, I wanted to respect.

Sooner than I could do anything about, my sister suddenly dove headfirst into the closet, still mumbling about the map. I panicked and reached for her as I watched the hanging clothes swallow her from and barely had enough energy and alertness left to grab one of her ankles as she disappeared. I was afraid of her getting lost entirely in there, so I refused to let go. She moved around, rummaging through the junk. How she was able to see anything or navigate in any way, I couldn’t understand. I just knew I needed to hold onto her tight, even if my fingers painfully dug into her skin. I wouldn’t let go.

My strength is weak from the entire ordeal of the last few days, and as I started to lose my grip on her since she’s moving around so much, her movement starts to change. I can’t hear her talking anymore, and she’s sort of stuck in the same place. She completely stops, body frozen and unmoving. Then she starts shaking. These violent shivers completely overtake her whole body, and her leg goes slack in my grip. I’m yelling her name, asking her what happened, but she’s not responding. I can only feel the shaking getting worse, so I pull her out.

She gets caught on something in the closet, and while my strength is starting to fail, I look over to my left as if guided by something. I see a dresser that wasn’t there before, made of nice, clean wood. And perched right on top in a neat pile as if they had been there the entire time was a stack of maps, neatly folded and ready to be used.

I don’t even have time to think about the repercussions of her going into the closet unnecessarily; I can only focus on getting her out.

And when I finally do, she slumps on the ground and leans against the closet door, completely white in the face with the most terrified look in her eyes. She stares at nothing, unmoving and not blinking. I try to ask her what happened, what’s wrong, as I can feel the presence in the closet watching us. I move her away from it and sit her on the end of the bed, but she’s barely responsive. Her body is slack, and she sits hunched over, barely registering me as I try to get her to talk. She doesn’t speak and instead starts shaking her head back in forth. She seems distracted; something is pulling her attention to different empty parts of the room. But when her eyes chase the unseen thing that’s there, she freaks out and starts crying. When I look to try to make sense of whatever is scaring her, there’s nothing. But whatever she’s seeing keeps setting her off before relocating to a different corner of the room. As I was stuck trying to make sense of what the hell was happening to her, I suddenly received the knowledge of what was going on. I knew that while she was in the closet, the thing that lived in there had touched her and affected her somehow. Even though it was invisible to people like me in its current state, she could see it permanently now. Her eyes were tracking it as it moved around the room next to us. She could see how terrifying it was and no longer had any reprieve from the nightmare we were both living, while I sat helplessly by in my little state of blissful ignorance because I couldn’t see the monster the way she could. She was inconsolable at this point, thrown into a state of irreversible panic as the thing danced around both of us, taunting her with its presence.

I was defeated; I couldn’t help her. I had no clue how to get this to stop for her, and I felt utterly useless in the situation. The only thing I knew for sure was that we still had to leave, but I knew somehow that she would be afflicted by this the rest of her life. I mourned for the time in her life when she could have peace, as I grabbed her by the hands and started to lead her away from the room. As I was helping her stand up from the bed, and she was turning in sharp movements full of fear to wherever the thing was moving, something happened to me.

It was only a short moment, and why it happened I couldn’t be entirely certain. But for a quick flash, I caught a glimpse of the thing.

It had the head of a deer skull with small markings carved into the front of it. Its body was human-like, but it moved with those same erratic, jerky movements as the men at the beginning of my dream. It kept its head perpetually tilted slightly to its left side, and though it only had dark holes where its eyes should be, I couldn’t help but feel like it was staring through me straight into my soul. My gaze met its only for a moment before the visibility of it vanished for me entirely. I stood frozen, my grip like a vice on my sister’s wrists. The thing finally had a face in my mind, but knowing what it looked like didn’t make things better. If anything, it made things worse. Because now I knew what my sister was facing for the rest of her life, I knew what the thing that would follow her around for the rest of her existence, looming over her from the shadows and gaining strength in the night, looked like. And there was nothing I could do.

I lead her out of that house into the morning light without another word, feeling completely helpless, and praying that I could keep us moving far enough away from that thing that it could never quite catch up with her again to terrorize her for the rest of her life.

~~~~~

I woke up about four or five times while having this dream that night. Each time with racing breath and a layer of sweat coating my skin. My room would feel too warm and too cold at the same time, and I felt exhausted physically and mentally each time my eyes opened. The first time I woke up felt like a relief. I told myself that at least I’ll fall back asleep and have a different dream, but when I closed my eyes and the same scene started up for me again right where I left off, I knew there would be no reprieve for me tonight.

The last time I woke up, it was about 5:30 in the morning on a Saturday. I was too tired to get up, but I was so done with falling back asleep to that nightmare. I lay in bed and let my cat wander lazily over to my chest, where he curled up and purred as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I stayed in that same position, petting him and replaying the dream over in my mind. Every detail felt fresh as I relived the entire thing, trying to make sense of what it all meant.

It stayed with me a few days after, and I continued to search my mind for answers before turning to someone else’s brain to pick at instead. They helped me see things a bit clearer for it, and it doesn’t plague me so much anymore. But I still remember it viscerally and know that it will stick with me for a while longer.

Dreams are fascinating.