TigerLilly

(5/14/11)

First of all, when I first woke up I remembered sooo much more of this dream. Unfortunately I was too lazy to get up and take notes on it like I usually try to do and by the time I got out of bed a lot of it was gone =/ Here is whats left:


This dream started out inside a memory belonging to dream-me (it was playing like a movie). The memory was showing that years ago a boy in England (not sure if dream-me had a personal connection to him) was touring a haunted castle. He slid away a hidden bookshelf and... **At this point I didn’t actually see anything else, but he was apparently attacked, sexually assaulted, and killed by a ghost** My friends and I were discussing traveling to England to solve the mystery of exactly what happened to him.

**There was a lot between this part and the next part but I only remember vague details like we were at a hotel arguing and we were in a really big British cab thing to get to the castle**


When we got to the room where the kid had pulled open the bookcase and let out the ghost, someone noticed something under the corner of the carpet. We pulled it up to find an object. We kept pulling and found that all around the edges of the carpet there were hundreds of things stashed. (Really cant remember what they were but they had significance. They proved that the ghost was an old teacher at the school which apparently used to be in the haunted castle and that he frequently sexually abused his male students.) When we were tearing up the carpet which was held down by staples I remember pricking my finger a few times on the staples and kinda feeling the pain I think.

At this point my like 10 friends that were there with me (I only remember one to be a kid named Phil G that I dated a looong time ago in highschool) decided they were done for the day and wanted to leave but I kept insisting I would not leave until the mystery was solved. I talked with them a bit about how to get a cab back to the hotel and they gave me the phone number then left. I remember worrying briefly if I would have the money for it.


After my friends left I walked down the stairs at the other end of the room to take a break from searching. I walked into some sort of cafeteria. It was a small room with castle-like stone walls, a low ceiling, and stone pillars throughout. There were people at small tables on one end of the room all facing a make-shift stage sort of thing where a young boy (13-16 years) was reading poetry. I saw, to my disgust that in the front row of tables was the “ghost” that I was looking for but he was still alive! (the ghost looked exactly like Harry's fat uncle in the Harry Potter movies). He was creeping me out so much with the way he was watching the boy on stage that I had to leave.


I stormed back upstairs. The carpet was now fixed and there was a long table filled with dirty dishes (as if many people had just eaten there). My dream-self didn't notice though and I simply began to clear off the table as if I was a waitress, bringing the plates over to another little side table and stacking them while I thought about the implications of the “ghost” not being dead.