So, last week I talked about the first “weird” dream I remember having, this time I am going to talk about the first dream I ever remember having. This was a reoccurring nightmare that took place from a very young age until I was about seven.
In the dream, I would walk into my parent’s bedroom. I was dark and the room was filled with a sense of overwhelming dread that radiated from the closet. In the dream, there was a hole in the floor of my dad’s side of the closet. Even though I was terrified, I would still find myself walking towards the hole, then the hole would suck me in and I would fall straight down.
I would land in a world that had a dark sky and a flat, grey ground. There was nothing there, only a small, shabby looking house. Then I would hear a loud cackle that emanated from everywhere. I would start running away from the house, knowing that the witch lived there. I would run and run, sometimes catching quick glances of her horrid, green face, but most of the time it was her spine-chilling laughter that followed me. I would always wake up from these dreams in a panic, and ironically, go to my parents room and hop into their bed.
Dream Score: 0/10. First real nightmare. It will never be forgotten.