As a kid I always had these nightmares where I would be walking down a hallway or some other long pathway. Then suddenly, I would stop. I would scream to the top of my lungs and say, “COME AND GET ME!” And the monster or whatever being would run in a sort of weird deformed way.
I used to wake up with my body sweaty and me gasping for air. But I never called my parents in, for I never knew if I was actually awake. And I was scared to say anything, so I eventually went back to sleep. Now, before I tell you anything else I must put one thing out there. I suffer from a thing called sleep paralysis. If you don’t know what that is, it is where you have awoken but cannot move, or in “paralysis”.
So one night when my mom kissed me to sleep I went into my room. I prayed to God about watching over me and keeping me safe etc. I started to lose hope in God at that age. I was only 9. I got in bed and laid there. Inspecting the area as I drifted to sleep.
This specific event changed dreams for me forever and hopefully it does for you too. Dreams are something that uses your imagination and can twist it in any way possible. Dreams can sometimes form into nightmares. Like ying and yang you need them both. Like a balance. When I had this specific dream, I was being born. Yes I could see my birth. And like most dreams it felt real. It looked real. Too real to the fact that I lived every second of it. It didn’t go fast like a normal dream. It was odd.
Then a figure was shadowing me and my mom. The figure, lurking and staring down at me. This dream suddenly fell into a nightmare. As the doctors pushed me towards the figure as he then took me out of the ER. My mom was crying. But not a usual cry, like baby crying and screaming. I wondered why my dad wasn’t there. He was in every dream I had surprisingly.
I woke up. But in sleep paralysis. I tried to move and struggle but no use. The figure came in my room. I tried to scream. The only words that came out of my mouth were, “come and get me,” the figure didn’t move. Only staring. I got a good look at it, it didn’t have a torso or any other limbs. Just a face with black smoke under it. I said, “come and get me,” louder than before. The figure wouldn’t move. He only stood there.
My mom came bursting in the door with my brother and grabbed me. She kept blabbering about my father. I wanted to tell her about the figure. She was crying. She said that my father’s body was found.
At the back of our old house. He died in a fire. For I now know to this day. My father was in the dream. Just not who he was supposed to be. It’s funny because every dream I have of me saying come and get me, I woke up to my mom saying we have to go to a funeral or something.
These dreams can’t drift into nightmares because there is nobody else in my family to kill but me. But I will always know that my guardian angels will come, and they will get me.
