This post may contain some affiliate links for your convenience. Read the full disclosure here.

June 12


Last night I had a dream. No, it wasn’t prolific, but it did freak me out, so I figured I would tell you about it. It was a ghost story of sorts and the main thing that had me up at 4:30 in the morning was the realness of the dream. I could feel the old woman grasping my hands and my breathing grow ever more frantic until I finally bolted upright in bed. It took me several minutes just to calm down and convince myself that it was all just a dream. The thing is, it wasn’t me in the dream at all but a woman my dream made up. So here’s how the dream went.

She and her three-year-old son had arrived back in her hometown. A guy she had grown up with was giving them a ride to her family home and she was pointing out sights to her son along the way. They had already made a couple of stops and were on the road leading to her homestead when they came upon an old boarded up house. The local guy stopped the car and she explained to her son that she lived there when he was born but only lived there for a short period of time and moved to where ever they had been living for the last several years right after the son had been born.

While she was telling her tale the son opened the door and ran into the house. She pursued and hence the creepiness began. Inside, the house was bare and the paint was all peeling. She called for her son without him answering so she resorted to searching the house for him. Finally, she found him in a bedroom upstairs. She ran to him sinking down to her knees.

“Why would you run off like that? This house is dangerous. We shouldn’t be in here.”

“He was calling to me.” The boy pointed toward the corner and the woman’s eyes widened. She looked to where he pointed but didn’t see anything. (I would like to point out here that I am eternally grateful my unconscious brain didn’t think up a super wretched ghost image right here.) She took her son’s hand and led him out of the house and back into the backseat of the car. The local guy, who had been waiting outside for them, got into the driver’s seat.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. He thought he heard someone calling him.”

He caught her eye in the rear view mirror. “Alfred?”

She nodded before taking one last look at the house that had haunted her memories. Before she could turn and shut the door an old woman quickly floated down the steps to her. She grabbed her hands in a death grip which I remember thinking was odd for such a frail looking woman. She appeared to be in her eighties and couldn’t have weighted more than a hundred pounds but her hands were firm on the young woman in the car. The old lady’s eyes bored into hers as she gave her ominous warning.

“Through you I shall find the end. Even I must chose a door eventually.”

I could feel an energy transfer and then the old woman’s eyes were all the young woman could see. That’s when I woke up. I got the impression the old lady was planning to hitch a ride with the young one somehow. I also knew it that the door the woman spoke of was referring to heaven and hell. What relationship the old woman had to the ghost named Alfred I don’t know. It was an odd dream to say the least and has the makings of a good book but it just freaked me out too much to write a full novel about.

But, there is a book I’m going to start soon that is based on a dream. I’ve updated my “coming soon” page to reflect this new book so check it out for more info.

Have a great Thursday and I wish you many great dreams!

Spread the Word!


Hi! I'm author S. L. Gavyn. I've written over a dozen books and I want to help you reach your writing goals. Check out my writing tips to make the most of your writing career.

This post may contain some affiliate links for your convenience. Read the full disclosure here.