Hello my little Autumn leaves,
I’m delighted to report that the weather has been both cold and wet here. I found myself once again staring out of the window watching the rain and feeling hypnotised. And I’m already on the look out for pumpkins in the shops, ready to purchase one and spend Halloween carving it out before vegging in front of the TV with spooky films.
I’ve been thinking about nightmares and bad dreams, and how it is these that we tend to remember more. Perhaps because they often wake us with a start, breathless, our eyes wide as we look around the room to make sure nothing from the nightmare has spilled over into the comfort of our room.
As a child and through my teen years, I had a recurring nightmare. It’s one of the reasons why now, as an adult, I don’t like their being any blinds or gaps in curtains in the downstairs of my house. The dream always started the same…
I’d be in an old classroom from Primary School, surrounded by other children. I’d walk to the library tucked into the corner of the classroom to put a book away but when I turned round, everyone had gone. The silence would press down on me and I remember a distinct feeling of unease wash through me. I’d walk to the door and leave the classroom and realise that the school was empty. I was the only one left.
There would be cups of milk abandoned, the sand and water table abandoned, its blue plastic water mill still spinning from the last child who poured water on it. The weather outside was always foggy and the sky was the colour of a bruise. I’d walk through the school, opening and closing classroom doors looking for someone, anyone. It was then that the tapping sound would start at the windows.
Not the pleasant tap-tapping of rain, but of long, slim fingers with knotted knuckles. A husky voice would sing-song my name and ask me to open the blinds. My blood would run cold and no matter where I went inside the school, the faceless person would always know which room I was in and tap on the window, saying my name.
In the dream, I would always press myself to the wall, my eyes wandering up the window as I held my breath. The tapping would grow louder and the voice would sound more sinister as it urged me to open the blinds. I could hear the smile in his voice, it was wicked and cold. And as quickly as the tapping had started, it ended abruptly, leaving me wondering if the sound of my heart could be heard by the man outside.
I’d stand up thinking it was over, but one of the blinds didn’t quite reach the bottom of the window sill and that’s when I’d see a pair of wide, lifeless eyes staring at me through the gap.
A piercing shriek would fill the air and I’d start running…This is where I’d usually wake up.
I haven’t had this dream for so long but to this day, I still don’t like gaps in curtains or blinds when it turns to night. I never knew the thing that was stalking me, I never saw its face but it scared me. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if it had caught me? Probably best not to dwell.
Did you have any regular bad dreams as a child? Or perhaps you have a theory as to what my dream meant? Either way, why not comment below?
Now go and brew some Valerian root tea and fall into a nightmare free sleep.
Stay spooky!
👻LWG👻
☽ SpookyGee ☾ 