Dream Journal Oct 2011 - Jan 2013

Snarling at Little Kids (10/19/11)
I was outside my house, not a place I've ever lived but possibly similar to one of the places my aunt, uncle, and cousin have lived at. The houses and streets were bigger than they are at my current place.

My dad had bought me a new car, some kind of big red clunky looking brand. I was out with it in the driveway cleaning it and looking at it when I heard some kids approaching on the sidewalk. They were probably no older than 12. They were talking about how much they liked to mess up cars. They put graffiti on my neighbor's car, but I was too lazy to do anything to make them stop. When they were done they came over to my car and opened the trunk to steal stuff. I heard this and raced over to them, snarling like a rabid wolf. They freaked out and ran across the street out of sight. I felt quite pleased with myself for scaring them and defending my property.

Werewolves are People Too (2/7/12)
It was a time where werewolves had recently become public knowledge, and everyone had to decide what to do about this. I was known as a human werewolf sympathizer, or maybe some people even thought I was a werewolf.

I was at church, and one of the elders approached me and asked if I could star in a play he had written to present to the church. It was one of those obvious morality tales, with a message something along the lines of "werewolves are people too." I was a bit annoyed, as I have only ever acted once and am not too good at it, but I agreed since he said he needed me so much. It was really rushed, since he wanted me to get dressed and read from a script right away. My costume was black clothing, and I was supposed to be some kind of medical professional who showed support for werewolves. He told me to have some kind of nervous tick, so I improvised chewing on my nails and saying "hmmm…" a lot.

Wendigo Wannabe (8/2/12)
The setting was some kind of camp for children. I was either a younger version of myself, or some younger girl who wasn't me. I was still older than the children.

There was a sense that there may have been many relatives there, but the only person I remember was my father. There was another man who I don't know. He was like a priest or church elder, maybe a Catholic priest. He spoke in an old fashioned way, maybe with an accent.

I didn't have anything to do at the camp. No job, so I don't know what I was doing there. I had decided to start killing some of the children by leaving traps for them. I think I was planning on butchering, grilling, and eating them afterward, but I never had a chance to. Several died, but someone always found them before I got to them.

The children were like robots. They never reacted to anything with any sort of emotion. If they got trapped, they just stood there and didn't make a sound. People were trying to figure out what was happening, and even though I was acting very suspicious they were slow to catch on. I was nervous about being caught, but never stopped.

Several times the priest spoke to me and I sensed he felt evil intentions in me. He would ask me religious questions and analyze the answers. It felt like the plots in some movies or books, where the killer shows that something is not right in their head for a while before anyone figures out they are guilty. The only specific one I can remember was a time he talked to me while I was walking on a log. I was balancing with my arms held out and my back to him, somewhat bored and refusing to look at him. I answered his questions honestly. I still considered myself a Christian, despite becoming a serial killer. I didn't feel very strongly about God or guilty about what I'd done, but I did believe in Him.

The priest asked something like, "Do you believe that, if everyone in the world stopped sinning, no one would get bug bites anymore?"

I replied with something like, "No, bugs would still bite us."

This was considered a very suspicious thing to say. Maybe not blasphemous, but definitely wrong. I didn't understand why, and didn't care.

The next scene I remember was in an area with a lot of people gathered around, though I think it was still outdoors like the rest of the dream. It felt more claustrophobic, which my dreams rarely do. I was near my dad, and people were talking about the child deaths. There was a trap there, like a little house or fort, with a girl inside. My dad saw her and started talking to her as he opened the trap. He was talking with exaggerated friendliness, as if he worried she must be very scared. She was just as robotic as the others though, and walked out of the trap without paying any attention to him.

There was a grill nearby, and I sense I had set it up to begin cooking the girl before she was discovered. I was nervous now, and annoyed that I had never been able to complete my plans with any of the victims.

Someone said something about the last two deaths, about how the children had left some kind of medication behind. They told a teenage boy or young man to take it somewhere. He was dressed like a football player and seemed to have a meek personality. I think I had hidden the medication by the grill, and when he took it that brought attention to it. I sensed people were closing in on me, figuring things out. My dad called for the young man to be brought back, because the medication could be a clue. I was worried what he would think about me being the killer, but mostly just afraid of being caught. I started thinking of ways to escape. I really wanted to keep on killing.

Love, Loss, and Shapeshifting Dog Ghosts (1/4/13)
I am a mother with two young children, a boy and a girl. I am middle-aged looking and wear my hair in a bun, so I don't think the dream character is based on any specific person I know in real life. I see the events of the dream in a mixture of first person experience and omniscient perspective.

The dream starts with the children making friends with a dog which looks like a German Shepherd Dog. Later on it is revealed that the dog is really a strange type of ghost. When a person becomes this kind of ghost their appearance changes back and forth between that of a human and a dog. They start out haunting a place at or near where they died, but if someone finds them and interacts with them they are given freedom to move around more.

The children find the dog in the basement of our house. He rarely shows any signs of being a ghost, and the children accept the strangeness of his shapeshifting. They play with him for a while before I discover him and reluctantly allow them to keep him. I don't think I am a person who gets along well with animals in this dream, so I had never intended to let them get a dog.

He seems to be more likely to become human during the daytime, though he still spends most of the time looking like a dog. When I discover a strange man in the house I do not understand his connection to the dog and am terrified. The ghost wears the clothing he died in, something professional looking like a brown business suit. He acts somewhat like a dog or a child- friendly, but a bit naive and uncertain. I think he has some understanding of being dead but does not talk about it or act like it bothers him.

I rush the children into the basement to keep them safe while I deal with the stranger. He talks to me in a casual sort of way, either asking simple questions or telling me about fun things he wants to do. I get him out of the house and I think this is when I first see him transform and realize that my children have connected with a very strange being. I am very scared of him and decide to get rid of him before I go back inside.

My memory of the dream gets fuzzier here. I think I get into my car and run him over in his dog form, which causes him to disappear. I go back inside and find my children have also vanished.

I search around my property for them, distraught. It is a large house, with a field nearby. I see a pair of German Shepherd-like dogs running in the field, and somehow I understand these are my dead children. I weep and chase them, calling to them. At first they avoid me, but when I grab one of them they seem to recognize me and calm down. The first ghost dog appears and he is very playful, as if he is happier than ever.

I get a vague sense that I somehow got us all killed. Maybe there was something dangerous in the basement and I shouldn't have sent the kids down there. Maybe I got the three of us killed in a car accident. Whatever the cause, I accept that I am dead now too. I don't become a dog shapeshifter, but I do get to haunt the field and play with the ghost dogs for the rest of my existence.