Strange Dream on the 4th February 2023

Boy at the window

The dream came to me in the early hours of the morning. I found myself standing in an apartment, tasked with clearing an evil entity. A younger woman was with me, my student. She wasn’t my only student, though. There was another, a young man, whom I had left outside.

It soon became clear that the young man had taken it upon himself to confront a haunted building across the street. As I finished the clearing I had set out to do, his face suddenly appeared at the window. He was smiling, but something in his expression sent a ripple of unease through me I knew we had a problem.

I walked to the window and opened it, though I was three stories up. Looking down, I saw him standing on the ground, holding a glass box in his hand. The box, rectangular like a brick, bore intricate carvings that seemed to hum with an ominous energy. A wave of concern washed over me.

Without hesitation, I grabbed a broom and knocked the box from his hand. As it hit the ground and shattered into shards, something remarkable happened. The young man, whose size had somehow been distorted, immediately shrank back to normal. From above, I watched him now standing unharmed on the pavement below.

An instinct overtook me to gather the shards of glass and dispose of them in a special container to contain the energy they had emitted. Other than a firm scolding I gave the boy, he was unharmed and would be alright.

The scene shifted abruptly. I was now with a woman older than myself, my superior and mentor. Our shared purpose was clear: to rid the world of an infestation of malevolent beings. We circled the area where we sensed their presence, drawing closer with every turn.

As we moved, we talked. She confessed with a smile that she enjoyed modern clothes as much as any other woman. Then, she told me something profound. “We will always work together,” she said, “just as we have since you were young.”

As her words settled, a vision unfurled before me. I saw her standing at a desk surrounded by children boys and girls of various ages. Among them, I recognized my younger self, a wide-eyed six-year-old, hanging onto her every word.

The vision shifted again. All the other children remained around the desk, but I stood apart, leaning against the wall with something clutched in my hands.

She turned to look at me, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “I knew it had to be you,” she said. “The moment I saw you sneak off to the wall to eat sweets, I knew. You had all the knowledge one could ever have an old soul in a young body. That’s when I chose you.”

Her voice softened as she added, “And from that moment on, we’ve been together.”

Even as the dream unfolded, I felt an overwhelming bond with this woman so deep and profound that it seemed we were one and the same, two facets of a single being.

Irene Allen Block