The first time I remember having this dream was when I was about three years old. All I remember from the first experience was that I woke up scared, but yet I was sad that it was over. I don't recall ever telling my parents about the dream, besides they probably would have dismissed it as nonsense. Even though it frightened me I willed the dream to come again.
I never know when I will have the dream, life circumstances and mood give no indicators as a pattern for the dream. The dream has a mind of its own and I have learned to accept it.
The dream always starts with me as a grown woman. I am walking down a dirt road, there are large trees that you find in the southern states lining the long dirt road. All I can see are these trees swaying in the wind leaning over the road. I'm wearing a dress, it's white and blue, a have a bonnet on my head tied with a large blow bow under my chin. In my hands are a wicker basket; I have never been able to tell the contents of the basket due to the fabric that covers it. The fabric has changed from time to time; sometimes it is a terry cloth kitchen towel, sometimes it is a red and white checkered blanket, and sometimes it is a wicker top like you would find on a picnic basket. What I am wearing on my feet has changed over time too; from high heeled boots to bare feet. The weather is same; warm and windy.
Once I am almost to the end of the road the wind pushes the trees backward and I can see a house. It's a large house with lots of windows.
Over the years the dream has for the most part remained unchanged. It starts the same way and it ends the same way. The time of day or night never changes, the scenery never changes, the sequence never changes, on occasion the items in the antique shop change as well as some aspects of conversation.
The house is the key component to this dream. The house was flat across the front, similar to a colonial home, the sides rounded upward in sort of a half circle with a bit of a point on top making the sides of the house appear taller than the front even though they are not. There were windows everywhere, tons and tons of windows. At the peak of the sides is a single round window at the highest point. The siding of the house are wooden slats, but not the typical whitewash you might expect to find. They are dark in color, not painted, just dark wood.
If you have ever seen the Amityville Horror Movie, then you can picture in your mind what the house looks like. Until recently I have stayed away from watching that movie all because of the image of the house. For those of you that have not seen the movie see the image below.
Unlike the popular Amityville Horror house, the sun room addition was attached to the rear of the house. This addition did not seem to be original to the home. It was a sun room adorned with lattice work and screened windows. The other windows never contained screens, only the sun room. The sun room is where we go next.
The sun room is very important because this is where the dream really begins. The dirt road does not lead to the front door, in fact there is never a road or other type of path that leads to the front door. There is an over growth of wild flowers, roses and evergreen bushes along the front of the house. The road travels around the side of the house and around to the back. The road stops at the door that opens to the sun room. Here we find bricks lining the outer edges of the road, wild flowers and roses of all different colors. Sometimes a man would meet me at the front door and other times I would open the door and walk inside.
I am always married in this dream. I talk with this man, but I never know his name or what he looks like. What I find once inside the sun room are antiques. I am an antique dealer and the room has many customers that my husband rings up on the old cash register that chings when you push the sales button. The antiques in the room are from various times and I am never sure what time period I am in. This business not only pays the bills, but I feel means a lot to me because I run it out of my home. When I arrive the last customers make their purchases and I always look around for the door to the main part of the house, but I get distracted by my husband wanting to talk about our day.
We never really talk about anything too important, just chit chat and what he sold that day. My mood is always upbeat and bubbly until I start talking to him, then I turn sort of sour and ready to be by myself again.
I never know how the next part begins. Remember I told you I couldn't find the door to the main house? I must have found it or another way in because now I am in the front parlor. What I do in here changes in the dream. One time I could be reading a book and another staring out one of the many windows. I always decide that I am tired and make my way to the spiral staircase in the front hallway.
As I ascend the stairs the house grows dark. I feel like the house is moving; not moving like swaying back and forth, but shape shifting. The spiral staircase feels like it goes on forever and during the shape shifting the spirals will straighten out or lead me to another part of the house I am unfamiliar with. I always end up on a different floor of the house when I have reached the top of the staircase. Wherever I end up there is always a long hallway.
As I walk down the hallway the air feels heavy, the walls stretch up and then out and then in. I hear wrapped music coming from every direction. An accordion fills the room as the walls mock the instrument. I hear footsteps from behind. They are soft at first, but quickly get louder. I think they are getting closer. Who is it? I take a glance behind me and find no one is there, but the footsteps are coming closer. I begin to run as I look back again. I now hear hissing and the hall is pitch black except every few minutes I see candle light.
The candles are a trip in themselves. I've told you about the walls mimicking an accordion. When the walls would straighten upward the candle light would shine. What the messed up part is the walls in the hallway were large mouths equipped with sharp pointed teeth opening up to say "ah". In the middle of the mouth was the candle.
Where is my bedroom? I begin to wonder. I don't see any doors. I need doors...where are the doors? Just then the hallway calms down and doors align the dimly lit hallway. I cannot remember which door opens to my boudoir so I pull the first knob I come to. It is locked. I try the next, it is locked. And the next, and the next, and the next. None of the doors will open. The footsteps are coming again. The hissing is loud in my ears. The floor drops.
I fall a story or two and end up in another hallway. I'm tired and terrified at this point, but I run as fast as I can. The smell is awful here. I'm still running...
There is daylight. I found a window and as I look outside the sun is shinning bright. I feel at peace, but it is short lived. A storm cloud has stolen my sunshine and the window becomes dark. The foot steps are back.
I start to run down the hallway again and to my surprise there is a staircase just to my right. I look around and find I am at a dead end, there is no other place to go except to the staircase.
I crossover to the right side of the hallway. The staircase is hidden by a heavy wooden door frame with no visible doors. I have to take a step down and then under the door frame to descend the stairs. As I cross over the threshold, pocket doors are coming from both sides of the door frame. They are moving fast. I try to stop them, but they are too heavy to stop. There will be no turning back, I must go down the stairs.
It is dark, I cannot see a thing. Where are the stairs? Where is the door? How do I get out of here? I'm having a severe panic attack. I want to wake up. NO! I want to see what is on the other side! The other side? There are three other sides of four walls one I have just come from. I want to wake up...
I do wake up. Every time. I have willed this dream to come over the years, I have tried to dream up an appropriate ending. It never happens. For over thirty years I have had this dream. Is there meaning to this dream or is my imagination working over time? I hope some day in this lifetime I am able to go beyond the trapped room to see what lies beyond.
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