I think most dreams are interesting. It’s difficult for me to say that any one dream is more interesting than another. However, I do find it unusually interesting when dreams are recurring.
When I was younger, probably eight or nine, I had a dream that someone broke into my house while I was sleeping. The intruder proceeded to slaughter my family in my house. The slaughtering was anything but quiet and woke me (in my dream). In a panic and flushed with fear, I ran out of my house and hid under our car parked in the cul-de-sac where we lived. I crouched under the car with a pool of viscous oil soaking my pajamas, the brisk air cooling my fevered terror, and the foggy night air confining the yellow glow of the street lights. I stayed under the car until all the screams stopped and then I waited longer, never daring to move a muscle. After what seemed an eternity, the intruder walked out the front door and looked around as if he knew something had escaped; I knew he was looking for me. He slowly walked toward the car, cautiously surveying the cul-de-sac for movement. He walked right up to the car and stopped, bent over, saw me and gave me an evil grin. And that’s when I woke up.
This dream was so vivid and frightening that I suspect it influenced other dreams of the same nature. I never had the exact same dream, per-se, but I have had several dreams with the same scenes, characters, atmospheres, plots, and feelings. Every time one of the aspects of this dream shows up in another dream, I am reminded of the originally dream which has stuck in my memory, vividly, since I was a child.
I’ve noticed a trend that the themes of this dream slowly occur less and less as I get older, but they still occasionally creep into my subconscious and remind me of one of the most horrific dreams of my childhood.
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