Chat
05-18-2014, 10:30 PM
I have a lot of dreams where I have to "fight" weird entities. Ghosts I guess? Whatever they are, they are bad things and physical objects do absolutely NO good.
In this dream, I had visited my parents house... (I did that ALOT before the house burned down). I had my boys with me and as I was talking to them, my son started waving towards the front door. I paused and looked to see a very old, mean-looking man in the windows by the door. He had greyish skin and an old fashioned black top hat and an old button-up coat. He had an evil face with a grotesque smile and he motioned for my oldest son to come to him and open the door. He never spoke a word, but he didn't have to... I knew, and I'm sure my son knew, what he wanted. My son began to walk forward and I grabbed his arm and pushed him behind me. Even so, my son kept trying to worm his way around me, so I shoved him back, and stepped closer to the door. I tried to scream at the man to "get out"... but the words wouldn't come out. I took another step closer and tried again and again... and nothing would come out. Not peep, squeak, or grunt. There is no way to describe what was going on inside me at the time... imagine if your insides, your spirit I guess, were doing some sort of physical labor and it became tired. I was getting tired, or rather my spirit was... but I kept trying until I managed to whisper the words. When they came out, I tried again and even harder and my voice grew louder. I did it over and over again until I was yelling as hard as I or anyone could... and the man disappeared.
In this dream, I had visited my parents house... (I did that ALOT before the house burned down). I had my boys with me and as I was talking to them, my son started waving towards the front door. I paused and looked to see a very old, mean-looking man in the windows by the door. He had greyish skin and an old fashioned black top hat and an old button-up coat. He had an evil face with a grotesque smile and he motioned for my oldest son to come to him and open the door. He never spoke a word, but he didn't have to... I knew, and I'm sure my son knew, what he wanted. My son began to walk forward and I grabbed his arm and pushed him behind me. Even so, my son kept trying to worm his way around me, so I shoved him back, and stepped closer to the door. I tried to scream at the man to "get out"... but the words wouldn't come out. I took another step closer and tried again and again... and nothing would come out. Not peep, squeak, or grunt. There is no way to describe what was going on inside me at the time... imagine if your insides, your spirit I guess, were doing some sort of physical labor and it became tired. I was getting tired, or rather my spirit was... but I kept trying until I managed to whisper the words. When they came out, I tried again and even harder and my voice grew louder. I did it over and over again until I was yelling as hard as I or anyone could... and the man disappeared.