The fist house dream I had when I was 8 years old. I dreamt we were going to my grandmas to pick up my brother who ran away to the house. When we got there, the house was much bigger then it actually is. but in the dream it was my grandmas house and I didn't have any questions as to the size or appearance of it while dreaming about it. I had a doll with me that my other grandma gifted to me. I was holding the doll, standing outside in the snow. My mom and dad went into the house. I was afraid to enter. I had a bad feeling about the house. I placed my doll on a stump where there was supposed to be my grandmas beloved lilac bush. (the lilacs reminded her of her homeland and she loved this bush. Later in actual life, a vengeful neighbor cut down her lilac bush and she was devastated. But, during the time of this dream, the bush was still there in reality, but was a stump in my dream). Anyways, I was nervous and apprehensive about going in. Betty and Wilma from the flinstones walked by and told me I should go in the house. That there is an axe murderer on the loose and it's not safe to be outside. They proceeded to go inside the house to warn my grandma and my parents. I started making my way to the door of the house. Slowly. Cautiously. I was afraid of the axe murder I was just warned about, but I was also scared of the house. Not too long after being warned, I heard woman screams coming from the front bedroom. I saw a flash of a knife in a stabbing motion and, unsure how, I knew that betty and Wilma were just killed. Not sure though who stabbed them. My parents and brother rushed out of the house and ran into the car. They shouted to hurry up, get in! I started running towards our car, and just as I got there, I remembered my doll! I left it on the stump! I instantly felt guilty for forgetting about her. I told my parents I had to get my doll, and ran to the stump and began reaching for her. All of a sudden, a dark shadow fell upon me. I froze. I glanced at the doll, and her eyebrows twitched up and down. I looked up, and a large dark figure of a man was standing in front of me, wielding an axe in a pre-chop motion. The doll giggled lightly. I froze with fear. I closed my eyes, held my breath and fell back into the snow. I figured that if I played dead and stopped breathing, the axe murderer would assume I died and leave me alone. I woke from this dream to my other grandma (not the owner of the house) shaking me violently. She was freaked right out because I was not breathing and my lips were turning blue!
Through out my life, I continued dreaming of this house. I was always afraid of it. But as I got older, my fear began to fade drastically. I was entering the house in my dreams. The furnishings and layout always stayed the same in every dream. They were not anything like my grandma's house in reality but in the dream, they were consistent and hers. Most items were antiques and not real possessions of my grandma. There were, however, a few noteworthy items that were my grandmas in reality and in the dreams. One being a statue of a girl that was in the entrance way of the home in both reality and the dreams. Another was a large gold mirror with cherubs that hung in her living room in both dream and reality worlds.
The dreams I had were always vivid, but never had a point. I always was walking through this house, and knew it as my grandmas. I was always slightly afraid of this house. I was always conscious that a murder took place in that front bedroom a long time ago.
While pregnant for my daughter a couple of years ago, I dreamt of the house. But this time, a man was with me, and I was becoming the owner of this house. I was still afraid of the house and it was still an eerie home to me. But in the dream, I was walking around, examining all the rooms, deciding which rooms my children will sleep in. The man I was with told me I could sell all the furnishings if I wanted to and make a lot of money. This angered me. I told him nothing is ever to leave this house. And right then, decided that, as eerie as the house is, I wanted it untouched and actually appreciated the creepiness of it. Like I grew to love it. The tone of emotion in my dream shifted. I went from feeling apprehensive about taking over my grandmas house and fearing it to being super excited that I would get to live in it. I re-explored all the rooms and was excited while envisioning my children's new bedrooms. I decided that the main front bedroom would be mine (the room I knew that there was a murder in) and I was anxious to live in it. To sleep in that enourmous oversized old wood canopy bed with all the beautiful carvings. I made my way upstairs to the attic of the house (a room I have no recollection of visiting before in my dreams) and, once up there, discovered a secret tunnel in a crawl space. Instantly, I was flooded with fond memories of the tunnels as a kid. I had all these vivid past memories of crawling through these tunnels with my cousins. I saw all these memories, saw them all, many of them, all at once. With Rachel and David, my sibilings. We played all these games. Like a life time of fun in a flash. And I was shaking with excitement. Dream me could not believe I forgot about these tunnels. I started crawling through them and remembered where each one lead. I crawled through one that went underground to the entrance of a public swimming pool. I stood at an observation deck and watched as many swimmers did laps. I could smell chlorine. I felt the sting of chlorine in my eyes. I felt so content knowing that I could visit here anytime I wanted to. When I awoke from this dream, I was so happy. I was excited and emotionally felt healthier then ever before.
I still dream of the house once in a while, and it is still an eerie house, but I now appreciate the feelings. It's as if I've grown to love them. And I also visit the public pool with my kids and family in my dreams.
Now, I've kept the details of these dreams to myself for years. I've never wanted to tell anyone. I'm afraid it will make me sound crazy. I've told bits and pieces to my husband. I told him about the house and pool and some of the things I've just written. But not everything.
Yesterday my youngest brother was over. Out of the blue, he tells me about his most vivid dream. He said he can't stop thinking about it, even though he's had it ages ago. But it haunts him, almost. And he has never had a dream so vivid and real feeling before or after this one. He then goes on to tell me it's about our grandmas house. But it isn't our grandmas house but in the dream it is. He tells me about the layout, the rooms, the furnishings. He tells me about the front bedroom. And the oversized bed. He describes the statue at the front door of the home. (the same from my dream and from actual reality) ALL the things he describes are just like what I dream. He goes on to tell me that, while visiting this house, he hears a woman screaming coming from the front bedroom. He doesn't see it, he is outside of the bedroom and the door is closed. But he sees a flash in his mind. A knife in a stabbing motion. And dark red blood oozes out from the crack of the doorway. He knows, in this dream, that this woman was stabbed and murdered. He stands there, watching the blood pool grow, and glances from the blood to the statue. He wakes up feeling disturbed.
I was speechless and freaked right out that he had dreamt of the house! My house! And all his details of the home correlated with the house I dream of! And we both saw the murder the same way. A flash, a knife. Never saw the knife cut through the victim, never saw the woman get killed, but knew it. He has only had the one dream. But it stands out as the most vivid, disturbing dream he's ever had!
I can't stop thinking about this. How is this possible? can anyone help me to interpret what these dreams could mean and why my little brother dreamt of the EXACT same house too?! I'm right freaked out!
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