I had the weirdest dream last night. A part of me wants to deconstruct it. The relentlessly curious (kaypoh) side. But the other part is afraid to because it involves my family and it’s morbid.
It’s completely bizarre and I swear I haven’t even been reading or watching anything close to macabre lately.
Disclaimer: This would be a confusing read not because I’m incoherent from the trauma but because it was a dream and my dreams are always hazy and disjointed.
I’m taking the lift up to my flat from the first level. Instead of going up, the lift goes down and this horrifies me for obvious reasons. It takes me underground and when the lift door opens, something hazy comes into the lift, it probably also has a human form. The hazy thing is trying to speak to me but all I hear are ‘ghost’ and ‘stroke’. I am screaming like a desperate lunatic. Somehow, my Creative Zen stone is in my hand and it’s on recording mode (the lousy device has died on me today). This is a rather important piece of information.
The lift starts functioning again and manages to get me back home. I calm down and begin recounting the lift incident to my parents. As I do so, what the ghost was trying to tell me starts coming through more coherently and I sort of begin to understand what’s going to happen next. But just as I do, it happens. My father falls to the floor in some sort of a seizure. The Grim Reaper appears to collect his soul and I actually see my dad’s soul rising. At this point, the hazy thing flashes in between my dad’s soul and the Grim Reaper. GR collects the ghost instead of my dad’s soul.
As my dad awakes with my mom fussing over him, I play the recording. At first, nothing other than the commotion can be heard. But as I turn up the volume, I hear a thin, whispered voice: “I am a ghost. Blah blah your father blah blah stroke blah blah blah. Help me.” The thinking me who’s watching the dream doesn’t get the complete message but I comprehend it.
The ghost is saying that somehow, when he died, the Grim Reaper didn’t collect his soul and now he’s just a wandering soul with no place to go. He knows my dad is going to get a stroke and the Grim Reaper will be there to collect his soul. He can help me by letting the GR collect his soul instead of my dad’s. I’m supposed to help…I don’t know how…but in the end, he managed on his own. So, he saved my dad by saving himself!
Chilled my bones when I woke up this morning. But I get the recording part. That’s from The Sixth Sense, when Bruce Willis listened to the recording of his session with the first boy he didn’t cure. Yikes. How did a story like this get into my subconscious?! It’s almost too complex for a dream. Even mine. Normally, my dreams have no distinct plot, they’re just dark and morbid, kafkaesque type.
A dream is just a dream, right?