Daily Thoughts

Reads: 156  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
For a summer reading ass. I was instructed to write in a spiral notebook commentary on my world, and to be philosophical. This entry was written about a dream I had.

Submitted: June 13, 2007

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 13, 2007



Rain is falling from the empty, colorless sky. The gray in the seems to have spread over everything with color. It is a steady rain fall, with only low rumbles of thunder, and very little flashes of lightning. Calming to the soul.

I awoke this morning first at 5 A.M. because of, yes I will say it, a nightmare. My dream took place years from now, and my boyfriend and I were in it, only we were older. Early twenties, I would say... the main part of the dream was receiving the letters. On the stationary in a faded gray was "Saw IV."

It was the beginning of September, from what I could gather, and we had just gotten done eating at Carrabas. We reached the parking lot and noticed our car, a Mercedes Benz (which is really the exact same car his mother drives today, but in the dream it was ours), was stolen. Then, after our panic, like a movie it cut to the next scene. Somehow we had gotten home, we were tired, and angry. There were two sealed envelopes on our table in the kitchen awaiting us.

The letters both said exactly the same thing except mine was addressed to me, and his to him. It told us our car had been stolen (obviously) and if we ever wanted it back, we'd have to obey the instuctions in that letter. So we read on.

The letter spoke of a plane leaving on September 11, 2011 (the year we were in). It said the out right that the plane would have terrorists in it and that it was scheduled to crash into the White House, or some other American building of importance. "Think of it as Jury Duty," I remember reading out loud. "You are being called to go on that plane, and you will die.

If you do not arrive at the airport at these specific times on Sept. 11, I will have your son Gabriel, and he will not live. Good luck."

We were petrified. We could not let our son die.

"I can't believe we're dieing..." JJ said to me.

"At least I am dieing with you, by your side." I took his hand, and I began to cry. I woke up. I still cannot understand why in the world he took our car, because we were never going to get it back if we were going to die on that plane. But dreams are surreal. Not everything makes sense in them.

If you've ever seen Saw, the movies, the gory cruel-minded movies, you'd know that the victims are taken for a reason. In my dream, my boyfriend, who was my husband in the dream, and I were choosen not because of something we did, but because others envied us. Maybe it was meant to be a lesson... but I found that unfair. My imagination can soar into depths I had never even thought existed. Maybe that is how Steven King gets his horrifying twisted plots... by his dreams.

Ironically enough, however, yesterday my boyfriend and I celebrated our two year anniversary at Carrabas, and to get there we took his mother's Benz. What a night!

© Copyright 2018 Dove Hanshew. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Booksie 2018 Poetry Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Dove Hanshew


Short Story / Literary Fiction


Poem / Literary Fiction

Popular Tags