Nightmare

            by Neoma Moreno

 

            To me a dream is a movie that is played in the back of your head. A dream is supposed to be a beautiful memory that is forever branded in your head. A unique sense of the mind when it is asleep sometimes awake, but then it’s called daydreaming. A dream that a person wish would come true in their daily lives. But then there are dreams that make you feel angry in the morning, that make you look like you haven’t slept in days, which make you worry about the people you love. The ones that aren’t supposed to come true in real life. I call these dreams nightmares. I never understood what my dreams meant nor did my mother try to explain to me what they meant until I grew old enough to understand.

             I don’t remember the dreams I had when I was younger then ten, but I do remember vividly the dreams that came after I turned twelve. The first scary dream I had was like one of those black and white silent movies that you just look at and try to figure out, except this one was in color.

            My mother was driving a little red 1988 Toyota. She was taking us children to the pumpkin patch site up in Pinole, she had to pass hilltop to do that. As we were driving along I suddenly felt the urge to yell at my mother “Watch out!” But it was too late. Our car had hit another one, the impact was so hard that it made our car turn over on its side. Glass was everywhere, I felt hot tears of pain running down my face and felt myself scream, but I didn’t hear a sound come out of my mouth. When I looked around to see if everybody else was okay, I saw only pain. Their faces were cut and bleeding, they looked deformed because they were scrunched up from the pain they were in. Their mouths were wide open, but I still couldn’t hear their screams. I thought I went deaf, but then I heard sirens.

            I woke up, my alarm was going off and my face was wet with salty tears. I just lay there on my bed and thought to myself, every thing is okay it was just another nightmare.  I looked at my clock it was three a.m. and still very dark, I went back to sleep. I woke up again and found my mother making breakfast, my sisters were at the table all ready to eat. I sat down and my mother said she was going to take us somewhere and it was a surprise. As soon as I finished my breakfast I rushed to my room and threw on some clothes. I was ready to go. I waited and waited for my sisters and mother to get ready, but it felt like a hundred years passed when finally they came out and said lets go. I was the first to reach the car, our old, little, red, 1988, Toyota.

            On our way to our surprise destination I began to get a premonition, yet I was not sure. My feeling grew stronger and stronger. When my mom turned the corner I immediately remembered my dream, I wanted to scream “Watch out mommy!” But I didn’t because as we passed the location where in my dream we had the accident, I saw that there was another red car with a family in our place. I heard sirens, I couldn’t get my eyes away from the accident because I knew that I was the one who saw it happen, but in my dream. I empathized with the family who were going through the pain I felt in my dream. I began to cry. My mother heard me crying and asked,

            “Why are you crying Neoma?”

            “Because I saw the accident in my dream last night, only it wasn’t those people,                            it was us in that accident,” I sobbed.

            My mother stopped the car and parked it. She got out, scared that she was going to yell at me for saying what I said I started to cry even more. Instead she opened the door and hugged me. That’s when she told me that my “gift” was not what I thought it was.

            “Its okay Neoma, your dreams just mean that you are connected to the earth.             There is nothing wrong with that, you just have to live with it,” she said.

            “But I don’t want to be psychic,” I told her.

             “Just because you have nightmares it does not mean you’re psychic. Psychics             have dreams or visions all the time. You don’t have them because you weren’t             born with that gift,” she said. I suppose she was right, but I was still afraid.

            My mother still saw the fear in my eyes and told me that she had the same kind of dreams which made me feel a little better, but concerned.

            “You have dreams like this too?” I asked, surprised and worried, wiping the tears             away.

            “Of course only there about shadows dying and being born,” she said.

            “But why do you have dreams like that?” I asked now intrigued than afraid.

            “I’ll explain when we get home. Right now we are going to have fun with your             surprise. Okay?” she said.

            After the trip to our surprise, which turned out to be the pumpkin patch, I forgot about the whole accident and what my mother was supposed to explain to me so I never asked.  Until it happened again, only this time it wasn’t a dream. I woke up in a cold sweat, I looked at my clock it was three in the morning. The room was dark, cold, and empty, but I felt that something or someone else was in the room, something dark. I was too scared to move and go to my mom’s room so I stayed where I was then I felt the presence get closer to my bed. I was freaking out and I didn’t know what to do. I guess my mom felt something because she suddenly appeared in my room and asked if I was okay.

            “No, I’m not okay I felt like somebody was in my room and I couldn’t move to go    to your room!” I shrieked.

            “That was a spirit. They can’t do anything to you if you don’t let them and it’s a               good thing you didn’t especially if their energy is dark,” she said.

            At that moment I wanted to know why I get these dreams and feelings and why my mother got them too. Knowing that my mom was tired, I tried to ask her one question, but I wanted to know more.

            “Why do I have these dreams and feelings?”

            “I’m not sure, but it means that you have a light that spirits are attracted to and             will try to reach to you,” she said.

            “But how do they know,” I asked.

            “I don’t know, but I’ve noticed that they come to you when you are emotionally             vulnerable,” she said.

            “They do?” I asked, kind of taken aback.

            “Yes, and they come to you at 3:00am too,” she continued.

            “What does that mean?” I asked.

            “It just means that you are vulnerable at that time,” she said.

            As I grew older I learned to deal with the spirits and dreams that come to me, mainly because my mom helped me interpret them.  We would talk for hours, but I still

get scared when I have nightmares especially the recurring ones. A recent recurring nightmare I had was so scary I thought it was going to happen in real life, fortunately it didn’t.

            “What’s going on? Why are all these people around our truck?” My sister cried.

            “I don’t know, we never should have come here!” I yelled.

 

            My sister and I were scared out of our minds. It all started with us going home from a party. It was 3:30 in the morning and I was driving my mom’s truck. We were just driving around the city and as we were driving past an empty parking lot with stacks of large metal canisters, my sister saw something that intrigued her and wanted to check it out. So I drove the truck into the parking lot and as soon as we got in we were surrounded by dark hooded figures. The figures didn’t look human; they were like shadows that rose from the ground into 3-D form. They seem to glide instead of walked and their hands were so pale they almost looked transparent. The figures scratched the windows and the body of the truck. Their eyes were glowing red with fire as they looked through the windows at us as though we were their prey.

            I remember hearing dogs howling at the full moon. While the figures circled us, I kept pressing the gas of the truck so that I can get through them and get the hell out of there, but the truck wouldn’t budge and neither would the figures. Their force around us was too strong. The screeching noise from their nails against our windows was so piercing that my ears were on the verge of bleeding. My sister was hysterical, and crying, wanting to get out of there as much as I wanted to, but I couldn’t. The gas was running out quickly. We were trapped; at this point I gave up trying to push through them.  I started to debate with myself whether what was happening was a nightmare or a reality and asking myself why I let my sister talk me into driving into the parking lot.

            During the time I started to talk to myself I heard my sister’s cell phone ringing, but the ring was unusual it sounded like the annoying beeping sound of an alarm clock. Looking for the phone to shut it off, because my sister was in a state of panic shock. My eyes felt as though they were enveloping into the darkness that was my consciousnesses.  I was looking for my sister, but I couldn’t find her. I started to cry. I was scared, the figures had already taken my sister away, and I was next. The phone was still ringing, I found it. I was trying to reach for it when suddenly I felt someone pull on my leg I closed my eyes and screamed.

            I woke up in a cold sweat and darkness all around; I was lost not knowing where I was or when it was. It only took me five seconds to find the source of the annoying beeping sound and shut it off. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness I realized that I was in my own home, in my room, and in my bed. I looked at my alarm clock to see what time it was, it was 3:30 in the morning. My head was throbbing in pain; I felt that my face was wet. I had been crying in my sleep. When it hit me that I had a nightmare and that I remembered what happened in it. I got up and went to my sister’s room to check if she was still asleep: she was. I walked to the kitchen window to check if my moms’ truck was still there: it was. I thought to myself, it was only a nightmare Neoma, why are you checking if everything is alright. I already knew the answer to the question and answered myself by thinking, because you never know if it will happen in real life.

            For as long as I can remember, I thought this way when I had a nightmare and I go around checking if everybody is okay. I get extra cautious of my surroundings because for some apparent reason most of my dreams or nightmares actually come true at some point and it’s scary. I haven’t had my recurring dreams lately nor have I had any real life dreams either. All I know is that because of my dreams I am more cautious around my surroundings even if I don’t appear to be aware. I constantly tell my friends to be careful when they are walking home or when they are about to do something of that nature. I am more careful of what I do in school. I just don’t show it. Because of my dreams I am less reckless, but I still live by my motto: “Live life like there is no tomorrow!”