Visions of the Paranormal

I woke up at 4am this morning, sweating profusely, and reaching for the flashlight under my pillow. My first reaction after opening my eyes was that there was something somewhere in the room with me! And, I wanted to get a good look at it before it got me. I don't know why, but the dream I had was profoundly scary, by far one of the most disturbing ones I've had in the longest while. However, I'll let you be the judge of that. Here goes...

I'm at home, here in Sri Vilas, and the day is going by normally. When I say normally, however, I intend to imply that the routines of the individuals present carry on as they always have - crossing paths as infrequently as possible, while maintaining their own pace, much as they always have. In between all this regular, day-to-day living that's going on, I happen to notice a little girl standing around, crying. I can't recognize her, but she's most upset. Even when she stops crying, the frown on her face indicates that she's not in the least bit amused. She doesn't seem to pay much attention to the goings-on around her, and nobody else seems to notice that she's there. So, I decide to do something about it.

I ask my uncle, as he's going up the stairs, if he sees the little girl. He says no! I point to an area right near him, less than a foot away, where I can see her crying, and ask again with a little more exasperation. But he still doesn't see her! Shocked, and kind of spooked, I decide to ask my mother and my grandmother the same thing. But, I get the same response. No one can see her, except me, and I'm obviously supposed to do something about it but I can't figure out what that might be.

Just as I am on the verge of the now famous "I see dead people" revelation, I notice something even more bizarre. The little girl has disappeared, and in her place is a little, wailing kitten! WHAT? Yet, strange-as-all-hell as this may seem, I decide to ask the people at home if they see the little, lost-and-forlorn feline, guessing that they'll probably say yes...judging by how many cats we have around the house (in reality). But no! They don't see or hear anything. And that's when I finally lose it and freak out!

I couldn't get back to bed for another couple of hours, and all the while, for most of today in fact, I've been trying to figure out what this means. Mind-boggled, tired, and a little creeped-out, I'm going to give this a rest and see what my subconscious can throw together for me another day. Well, at least I'm going to try and give it a rest...

The Depressing Case of The Dog in The Pen

We appeared to be at a farm. "We" seemed to include a bunch of people, both family and friends, but I could only catch half glances of their faces, so I'm not very sure who was there. Anyway, we seemed to be getting a guided tour of a breeding facility of some kind. It was well laid out; acre upon acre of rolling meadows, a cluster of trees here and there for those necessary patches of shade, and a nice, cozy farmhouse with a barn and a few animal pens nearby. I couldn't see who the guide was, or even hear what he was saying, but it looked as if our tour was now taking us to these holding pens.

Many of the pens were empty. They were very clean, with fresh hay having been neatly arranged at the bottom in anticipation of new occupants, and the walls of these pens were only waist high. I had no clue what sort of animals these were meant for, and I suppose I should have been paying attention to what the tour guide was saying because I'm sure he mentioned it.

As my eyes kept searching for a clue about the nature of the animals housed here, I caught a glimpse of a dog in one of the pens. It was a fat, little miniature Labrador retriever wearing a snug, full length, pale blue dog sweater. The light blue stood in effective eye-catching contrast to her short, black fur. He or she was by far the cutest thing I had seen in a long while, and so I went over to pet him. The dog was happy to see me, but there was an element of the terribly subdued about this happiness. She was wagging her tail, but you could tell that there was apprehension in her eyes.

I continued to pet the dog, until something caught my eye. I noticed a label on the sweater, about the size of half an average human palm, and white in color, that read, "This fur will be used to make towels." I was horrified! I didn't stop to think about whether or not they would shear the dog of its fur to produce said towels, or if this production of towels involved something far more sinister. The empty pens, however, seemed to answer this question. It was too much to bear. I crouched down, kind of next to the pen, and reached over to pet the dog. I was wailing, sobbing as loudly as I had ever done in my life., but it was a dry wailing; there were no tears to accompany the overall anguish I was experiencing. It was just pure pain, and I had no idea how to deal with it, except to sit there, crouched and petting the dog. But the more I did that, the more she stared back at me with an expressionless stare, half curious, and half not there.

That's how this dream ended. I was petting this cute, rotund little canine, crying my heart out, and she was staring back at me, lost between this world and the next. It was so hard to deal with that I woke up three hours ago, and haven't been able to get back to sleep!