In the first dream last night, I cried. Even in a half-conscious situation, I could feel the tears streaking on my cheeks.
I was in a family, a very intimate family. In a talk with the mother, however, I was taken aback. I was told that because they couldn’t support such a big family (I don’t know how many children they have), she had decided to kill the youngest son, who, being so lovely and innocent that I liked the most. And in the course she kept smiling. How could she shoot smile at me on such an unbilevable issue? I wonder. And, most surprising, I found I stifled the yougest to dead finally. Before he took the last breath, he still wore his usual grin. What’s wrong with me? I wonder.
So vague, the dream. Somehow in the following part I met the same situation where the youngest son had been placed in. Because of some ridiculous charges, I was sentenced to something dreaful. I argued, I defenced, I objected but in vain. Then just at that point, here came the youngest son’s voice: you had done the same unjustified thing to me, remember? Just for such a ridiculous reason…
Then I cried, both in the dream, and in reality. What’s wrong with me?
P.S.:
The second dream was supposed to be an excited one, however, under the influence of the dream above, everything couldn’t cheer me up. So let me just end it with a few sentences: being an English major, from the first day we entered the campus, professors told us WE HAVE TO DREAM IN ENGLISH. And from then on, I always long to have such a dream. And in the second dream, it gives me a little light. I met Yam, an foreign teacher from Philippines. And in the rest of the dream, I kept talking in English with her. That’s all.
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Dreams · Helen · Strange Dreams · Stupid Helen
