I’ve had many nightmare’s over the years, more than my share, but I always believed that sleeping should be peaceful and free of any demons or monsters from ever entering our dreams, but that has never been the case for me. Since I was a little boy, they always seems to find a way to hide inside my dreams and when ready, make their presence known.
Now it’s not like they are actually monsters and creatures of any kind chasing me down long endless hallways, but instead, would be in the form of moments in my childhood that haunts me even to this day. From reliving the beatings I received as a little boy to watching the death of people very close to me, always seemed to take place in the house that I grew to despise growing up.
For the life of me, I can not imagine what I did that was so bad as a child to deserve these nightmares. One of my recurring dreams that I’ve had for many years seemed to be multiple TORNADOES forming outside my bedroom window where I slept as a young boy. There’s’ always this one big tornado, surrounded by small ones, and would tear right through the garage and head straight towards my window with such loud force, the house would shake from its powerful breath.
Just as cracks would form on my window beside my bed, I wake up. To this day, I still have this dream. The creepy part of this dream is the color of the tornado. It’s always a dark navy blue…like the color of my foster-father’s work uniform he wore every day to work. He sometimes wore them even on his day off. I did go on-line a few times to interpret the meanings of some of my dreams.
What I learned about this one is only one thing…I feared my foster-father growing up….and I fear tornado’s just as much. This other dream I get once in a while started about 25 years ago. I am sharing a bedroom up in the attic with my foster-sister Sandy with a see through curtain dividing us. Her side had a bed and a dresser with a lamp on top of it with no shade, but couldn’t look directly at it because it was so bright.
I would be standing by the curtain talking with Sandy when she would than say to me she’s going to sleep and she would turn off the light. I would walk over to my side of the room in the dark and reach over to turn on the lamp on my end table only to find my bed looked like it was rotting away right before my eyes. I can see that I was no longer in the attic but inside my bedroom instead.
The radiator in front of the window felt very cold as the walls started to crumble apart landing on my bed, followed by a smell forming inside the bedroom as if something was rotting close by. I would look out the window only to see a distorted face looking back up at me. As I would turn away from it, I see a little boy laying in my bed under the covers rocking back and forth, but can never make out his face….I think the little boy is me.