Last night, I had a dream. Most people dream, of course, but I'm not looking to state the obvious. It was a peculiar and strange dream. It was almost very much like a lucid dream, but somehow in an uncontrolled state. The dream's entire detail was a bit watery, but I managed to remember the most vivid parts only.
Dreams tap into our subconscious. But sometimes, they could just be omens or wildly odd but accurate predictions of the future.
In my dream, I was a mother. A young mother to be precise. I was probably at the age of 15 (I'll be turning 15 in November) or any other age that can be considered as a teenager. This part was bit weird, but being motherly in nature it was something I may handle. I remember being in a room which looked very much like an office cubicle, with many other cubicles or rather, rooms adjoining from all sides of the cubicle-like room. People were also there, some in corporate attire, others in hospital wear. They all stared at me with warm yet seemingly cold, stale smiles, as if I were a slab of meat for hungry predators.
It would have already sufficed as the strangest sight I have seen, until I discovered something else.
In my arms was a young child; a boy who looked like my little brother with some slight adjustments. He was unusually large for his supposed age (but in my family, it's normal) and he stared at me with large, unknowing eyes. I felt sad for some reason. As if I were longing for something to fill the huge gap in my already aching heart. Some twisted turn of fate told me that this child in front of me wouldn't be my only child. Confession time: I've always wanted a daughter because someone had become my pseudo-daughter in the past, and my dream must have incorporated my desire to fulfill that aspiration by telling me that I'd have another child. A girl this time.
With all my strength I cradled the baby in my arms and took him around the room, searching for an exit. The strange people smiled coldly at us and grinned with their sharp fangs. Some were mindlessly blabbing away like old friends while others reached out for me and congratulated me with empty words. I wanted to pull away and get out of that prison cell. Everything just seemed so dead and cold inside that room. I glanced down at the mystery child in my arms then a sudden onset of depression struck me hard, as if all the burdens of the world was contained in this boy. Though I felt a sad smile grow on my face, and with that I kept on walking, not a care whether my life will be challenged with the birth of this boy.
My dream ends abruptly there.
It makes me wonder how my subconscious could concoct something ever so mystifying like this. There are so many things to wonder about. Who was that child? Was he really my son? Why was I a young mother? Who were those people? Where was I?
And yet again I face the mystery of another parallel universe.
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