Thread: need help interpreting this really odd dream. warning for slightly disturbing images ?

Hello, all. So I'm brand new here; I registered just after having a very strange dream the other night. I found this forum and figured that there might be someone that could help me interpret this dream -- it may not actually mean anything, but it was so off and so odd that I can't stop thinking about it, and I can't help but shake the feeling that there is some sort of meaning to it.

Some background on me at the moment, if it's needed -- I'm eighteen years old and female, and I'm currently having a lot of stress with financial situations and family situations, not to mention the scares of just starting college soon. The friends that I'm going to mention in this dream won't have names, but if needed I'll give them; these people have been my friends since elementary school, so suffice it to say that we're very close and can hardly do anything without each other. If more information is needed, I'll be more than happy to give it.

The dream starts off in Manhattan, which is relatively normal. I live in a busy part of New York, and I visit Manhattan frequently. It's an average day so far -- the weather is just as it has been in the last week: a bit cloudy, as though the sky is threatening to make it rain on all the people. I'm with my close - knit group of friends -- counting myself, there are six of us -- and we're doing what we usually do when we go to Manhattan. That is, goofing around, looking through stores; things that are expected of teenagers, I guess. I made a note of how crowded it was in my dream. Being that it's Manhattan, it's naturally bustling and busy, but in my dream it was even moreso, to the point that it was getting hard to breathe and making me claustrophobic. I didn't voice anything about that, though.

The five of us are walking down the busy street, chattering about something or other -- I think it was about some new show that was on TV. After a few minutes, I find that I stop dead in my tracks; my friends, however, keep on walking, as though I'm still walking along with them. I try to call out to them, tell them to wait up, but I can't seem to make the words come out -- my throat feels closed, and my body starts to feel very heavy. In my mind, I tell myself, "I have to catch up to them. If I don't start moving now, I'll lose them and it'll take me forever to find them". Even so, my feet refuse to move. No matter how hard I push myself or will myself to move, I stay glued to that same spot. This goes on for what feels like forever, but I'll say it was a matter of minutes; things always feel slower when you're standing still. At least, I think so.

Anyway, at some point or another, my body starts to feel lighter, and I somehow know that it's okay to walk and that if I try to take a step, I'll be moving myself forward. There's a sense of relief washing over me, but at the same time, I feel uneasy, as though I should just stand still as I have been. However, that can't be because I have to get moving and get back to my friends. So I take a step -- and as soon as I do, there's blood gushing from my abdomen. I can't explain why this has happened. I wasn't injured in any way, not at all. There was also no pain when the blood started to come out, not even after I was aware of the wound. It was only after a minute of standing and pretty much staring at my stomach, that the pain started -- and it was sharp, extremely sharp. My eyes widened, and my heart started to race; at one point, I fell to my knees on the sidewalk and started screaming at the top of my lungs. The strange part about all this was that, even though the street was so crowded as I'd mentioned earlier, no one stopped to see if I was alright. Everyone walked past me as though I wasn't there -- I think that, maybe, one or two people may have even walked through or over me.

Then, there came one person who could see me. However, I couldn't see him -- most of him, at least. I could only see him from the waist down; he wore, if I remember right, black, formal pants. I don't remember the shoes. He stopped in front of me and I remember looking up at him, extremely hopeful that he would take me to a hospital and the pain would stop. I doubted that when I heard him laugh. He gave one chuckle and then said, "I told you. I told you this was going to happen if you didn't. I told you." He never specified what "this" was; he only kept repeating those sentences over and over. Then, everything went black. I heard a click, and I felt something less than an inch away from my forehead; I couldn't see it, but I assume that it was a gun or something to that effect.

There was a flash of bright light after that, and suddenly, I'm in the countryside. I'm in the countryside and there's no explanation as to how I got there. I find this odd because where I live, there's nothing like that. The crowds are gone, the man who spoke to me was gone, my friends were gone. It's just me, shuddering and standing at the side of the road. I noted that the weather was different now -- it was day while I was in Manhattan, now it's night. The sky is clear, and there's a full moon shining brightly above me.

I'm hugging myself, trying to stay warm. There's some kind of breeze, apparently, and I'm only wearing a white t-shirt and what looks like the bottom of a clown's uniform: the puffy, polka - dotted pants that they wear. They're blue. My hair looks messy and matted, and upon closer inspection, I see blood on me. There's blood on my arms, blood on my t-shirt, blood on my hands. I vividly remember reaching one hand up and wiping my face with it, getting blood on my face in the process. I remember this so well because it disgusted me so much; the blood was wiped across my mouth, across my right cheek. The dream me, however, wasn't affected by it. It seemed like it was normal.

Behind me, there is a pen -- like a pig pen, closed off with a wooden picket fence that isn't very high. And inside of the pen .. .. there was a pile of dead bodies. A pile of dead, grotesque - looking bodies. Some were missing limbs. Others were just bloody and disfigured. Again, I wasn't affected by it. I know I was aware of what was behind me, but I didn't seem to think much of it. To the right of the pen was an axe, perfectly clean. To the left of the pen was a butter knife. I don't know what it was doing there.

At some point, a cop car comes by. They pull over and stop before me. One of the cops steps out of the car -- He looked like an older man, with brown hair, sunglasses ( even though it was night time ), and a brown, bushy mustache. He looks at me and asks me if I'm alright, and what, exactly, was a "pretty young lady" doing out this late at night. His partner, still in the car, looks over at the pen. He looks disinterested, like he doesn't make much of it, he doesn't care. I tell the older man that I don't know what's going on. I tell him that I don't know how I got here, and that I just want to go home. The man tells me that I can take his and his partners' car and drive myself home because there's another squad car coming this way sometime soon. Take note that I do not have my driver's license in actuality. In any case, I took the car and nodded and thanked him. Then I drove off, and that's when I woke up.

I understand that this dream is odd and it may not mean anything at all, but that's just why it's bothering me. I also remembered this all so well because when I woke up I wrote down a lot of it.

If there's any more that you need to know, don't hesitate to ask; I will tell you what you need to know. Thank you very much for helping me. (: