Strange Dreams

Though it has been quite some time since my last post, I decided to post the dream I had last night…January 18th/19th

Strange Dream – “The Return”


I walk into a very large victorian mansion after years of being away.  No one is familiar, though at this point I have seen no one.  I am dimly aware of the fact that I am not well liked by my family, though this doesn’t seem to bother me.  I’m not home to stay, but am home out of obligation or temporary need.  The house is not a sprawling affair as much as it is tall with lots of small rooms and cramped hallways.  The living areas have large windows and many balconies.  I walk upstairs with my bag of essentials, it is like an old doctor’s bag, but bigger made of leather with the top that opens when you pry the jaws apart.  My mother or aunt is cooking in the kitchen and gives me a cursory glance and no actual greeting.  I walk past and round a corner that leads to my old room.  I think I pass two sisters or cousins who make some sarcastic remark about my return.  I don’t remember what they said though.


I open the door to my room and realize that it is not so much the room I slept in as a child as much as it the room I last slept in.  It is small and the walls are white.  The colorful bedspread is rumpled as if it had been left undisturbed since my last visit.  There are several papers scattered about the room as if someone had knocked them off of a high shelf and left them where they fell.  For some reason I have a thought related to my brother Chris.  He used to live here or stay here, but no longer does.  I don’t know if he left or died, but I do know that it has been a long time since he was here.  I felt compelled to go to his room, or more specifically the last place he slept when he lived here.


I follow the hallways and stairs until I come to a doorway that opens onto a steep and narrow staircase that I have to practically crawl up.  As I get to the top of the stairs I can see everything in a dim grey light that is coming from around the corner.  Initially the floor is just beams, but gradually the beams are covered by some material I am unfamiliar with.  I turn to the caretaker, who has apparently followed me up to this high ceilinged attic.  I tell him to watch his step and to stick to the beams, but the comment is pointless now.  As I turn the next corner (left again) I am facing the direction of the front of the house and am in a huge room like something out of a Lovecraft story.  Their are no “walls” as much as the high ceiling slopes down from above.  There is very little light, but I can see over in the far corner a mattress and some bits and pieces of furniture with an assortment of “bedroom” items scattered around the area.  Some books, a glass of water and a reading lamp with the bulb naked is all that I really remember.  The caretaker follows me over and I remember that I left my bag over by the top of the stairs.  As I return to get it, I decide (bizarrely, in retrospect)  that I am going to stay here.  THIS is where I am going to sleep.  Amongst the spiders and exposed beams and gray darkness and memories that are not mine.  The caretaker says that it is a bad idea, and I begin to stroll over towards him.  He is standing at the head of the mattress and I walk past him to a large opening that leads to a huge balcony that presumably looks out over the front lawn.  Again, the caretaker warns me against going out there, but I do anyway.  There are no doors or windows leading out to the balcony, just a large opening in the wall maybe fifteen feet wide and twenty feet high (which should give you an idea of how high the ceiling was).


As I make my way out onto the balcony I realize that the floor seems to be made of balsa wood and is cracking under my weight.  I gingerly retreat to the attic where I notice a large picture or dirty mirror hanging on the wall behind where the caretaker is standing.  He mentions something about my now being cursed to see myself hanging from the rafters above the balcony I just stood on, and it is at that moment that I notice a reflection in the glass of the picture behind him.  It is of me with my back to the balcony and over my shoulder I can clearly see a body hanging from the beams, swinging in the wind.  I point to the reflection in horror and the caretaker turns and looks, crying out in dismay about this curse.  For some reason I feel compelled to turn around, believing all the while that the curse applied only to the picture frame or mirror, but to my dismay and shock there was indeed a body hanging from the rafters on the balcony that had not been there a moment before.

The last thing I remember is trying to turn on the reading lamp by the mattress and it not working.  The darkness became more oppressive and I woke up.