Last night I had a dream. It was deliciously scary, and not the 'off-the-wall' kind of scary either. But it had a bit of a terrifying end to it, and since I haven't posted here in a while, I thought it would be the best place to muse on it.
In the dream I was at home with my Dad and cats as usual. I think my Mam was here too, but it's not unusual for me to dream that. For some reason we knew that there was going to be a lot of activity that night, spirits and ghosts etc. and we had accepted this. There had been some small incidences throughout the evening - knocking sounds, lights flicking on, doors open where they should have been closed - but it was all taken in our stride.
Later on in the night I was lying in bed and the boiler in the kitchen started to thump. This is a common occurrence in our house, at any time of day. We just need to adjust the thermostat in the boiler press for a few seconds and it regulates itself.
I get up to sort it out, hoping it wouldn't wake anyone. As I'm bent over with my head stuck in the closet, Daddy shows up in the doorway, all scruffy and bleary with sleep.
"You can almost feel them touching you," he said.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"The spirits, they're everywhere. The place is thick with them."
A chill ran down my spine, and I told him to stop. We were arguing back and forth when right in front of us, a chair started to move across the room, hovering just inches above the floor. It was understood that things like this were going to happen that night, but this time it was different, this time it was right before our eyes.
The argument was quickly forgotten, and we hurried to our rooms. A little later on I heard some noises. I use earplugs, so I couldn't pinpoint exactly what they were, but I figured it was probably my Dad up again. Then this awful pressure seemed to engulf the room. A drumroll of sounds like a stampede of footsteps started up in the hall outside my bedroom door, getting faster and faster, closer and closer. When they reached my door I woke with a jerk as my handbag fell off the hook on the back of the door.
Now, I've always believed in the power of the mind. It's not the first time something like this has happened - dreaming of the phone ringing only to wake up and the phone starts to ring - but I'm also quite rational and try to make sense of or explain these things. I know that perhaps the phone was already ringing, which caused me to dream about it ringing. But this time it was the opposite - the sound was in my dream, outside my bedroom door... can it be coincidence that my bag fell right at that moment? Or was it the power of the mind?
If I was to take my usual view, I would have to admit that the sound was actually happening outside my door and the vibrations caused the bag to fall, but this is just not logical; there's nothing in the house that could have made sounds and tremors so strong as to make something fall off its hook. Earthquake? In Ireland? I hardly think so. Besides, there's been nothing on the news to corroborate this.
I don't know, and though I spent a long time lying in the dark with my heart racing, I sure hope it continues; this kinda shit makes for damn good writing material!