0
0 Comments

Last night’s dream was… odd. I was at a sleepover at a friend’s house, but this friend was someone I actually haven’t spoken to in years. We were close in middle school, but when high school started, we ended up hating each other. We haven’t talked since.

In the dream, though, we were friends again. She lived in a **huge mansion—**on the outside, it looked like a normal two-story house, but on the inside, it was massive and filled with hidden staircases, secret tunnels, and concealed levers that revealed more rooms. She kept asking me to follow her upstairs, but each time, I had to navigate obstacles to get there.

Later that night, she hosted a small party with people from our middle and high school days. The room where we gathered was full of cushions and pillows, making it feel like a cozy, dreamlike space. At some point, I accidentally broke her phone charger while trying to use it and immediately apologized. She wasn’t upset and simply said we could sort out payment later.

Then, I needed to use the bathroom and asked her mom (who, in real life, hates me) for directions. She told me to go to the guest bedroom and open the closet.

The closet door unzipped instead of opening normally, revealing a dark tunnel filled with cushions and stuffed animals. I followed it inside but ended up at a dead end. When I looked up, I saw someone sitting in a mesh seatabove me. Suddenly, they started peeing down on me.

My next memory was back in the main party room, where one of our old middle school friends punched a glass wall that led outside. Everyone screamed. I ran out to check on him and saw his hand was completely mangled, covered in blood. I rushed to grab towels, but when I returned, someone else had already brought them. So instead, I went to find purified water.

Then, I entered a room filled with people from different times in my life who had struggled with addiction.

One of them was explaining the difficulties of the second step in recovery, and as they spoke, I nodded in understanding. Another person asked me, “How long have you been sober?” I explained that I wasn’t in the program, but that my dad had been sober for almost six years. They still wanted to hear my story, so I shared my experience—watching my father fade into alcoholism, nearly die, and then get sober and rebuild his life.

Right after, my alarm went off, waking me up.

Oneirly Answered question January 19, 2025