I had a dream I was on a plane. A totally normal flight. Going in for a landing when things went wrong at the last minute. I swear I could feel the heat of the flames as I saw them coming through the fuselage as the plane is breaking up around me. I woke up on my feet beside my bed sweating. I’ve never had a dream like that before or since. I’ve never done drugs or other vices. That was over a decade ago and I can still remember it like it was a real event in my life. Like it was landing in Denver, I was sitting a few rows from the front on the left isle on the emergency exit row.
Two! Both when I was between 10 and 13 or so.
The first I had walked down the street to my friend’s house, knocked on the door, his mom answered and I woke myself up because I spoke out loud “can Shane come out to play?” The sound of my own voice woke me up because I was talking in my sleep.
The second was more or less the same. I left my house intending to go down to Shane’s house, but I tripped off the curb and woke up.
I’ve also had a recurring dream since I was a child that I would wake up in the middle of the night, fall out of bed and instead of simply hitting the floor I fell miles and miles through dirt and rock until I landed in a weird prison carved into dirt. I would be deposited into a dark hallway I couldn’t see the end to in any direction, an along one side of the wall were jail doors of cells. I could hear moaning and screaming and felt intense fear. But I would always wake up there and never “explore.” Not really realistic, but I still sometimes visit this dream prison and it still creeps me the fuck out cuz I don’t know what it means or why it’s always the same except for the place my bed may be.