I had the most unusual dream about a week ago.
Usually when I have dreams about ghosts or the supernatural, they contain people I've never met before, but this one had my brother in it. Not just a generic "brother" substitute--his actual face, body, attitude, etc. Most unusual.
Also, (but not as unique) my mother was part of my dream, too, but distantly.
Now, it's odd, because in my dreams, the layout of houses, towns, rooms, etc. don't look like anything I've ever seen, especially in real life but here, here in this dream, everything looked exactly like it does in the town I live in.
Most of it is lost in the Oblivion where most of my dreams go, but I do remember the end of it--quite vividly. Is it possible that I remember just this one part because it's so... so shocking and unexpected? Or is it because the images that I saw are a subconscious realization of my brother's abilities--though he tries desperately to deny their existence? I wonder...
I suppose that is a long enough introduction/backstory, so I'll get into the whole point of this entry.
I was at the store, getting groceries for dinner. While I was entering the store, I saw Brian, and asked him what he was doing there. He told me that he had had Rascle (our missing kitty) in his car, but when he got out to get something to drink, Rascle escaped. He was asking people if they had seen him and was showing them a picture he held of Rascle.
When I left the store, Brian was still standing out there, showing shoppers the picture of Rascle. I was the last car to leave--I had plenty of groceries to pack away. As I'm driving out of the parking lot, and down the street, I see my brother standing in the lot, talking to an elderly woman. In shock, I recognized her as our maid that had gone missing about two months earlier. (We by then--in the dream, remember!--had gotten a new maid, a much younger girl with honey-blonde hair.) Her long, thin, dark brown hair was twisted smartly up in a bun at the back of her head. Her sharp eagle-like eyes stared straight ahead, gazing into an open (and empty) field across the road. They were standing about 10 feet away from the soda machines that lined the store's outer brick wall.
I knew immediately what had happened, and turned the car around to explain the situation to him. I could sense his frustration growing. I pulled up and parked not too far from him. When I walked up to him, he turned and said, "She won't tell me if she's seen Rascle! She won't even look at me! What's her problem!?"
I sighed and replied, "Brian, she can't see you. I'm blown away that you can see her."
"What do you mean, "you can see her"? Of course, I can see her! She's RIGHT THERE!" He turned, his arm raising to point his finger at her. His jaw dropped in shock, and his arm froze. "Wh-where'd she go?"
"Brian, in a sense, she was never here."
"What do you mean? I was just talking to her!"
"I know who she is, Brian, and I don't think she's alive."
"What are you talking about?"
"The woman you were just trying to get a response from worked for Mom and I, helping around the house. She disappeared a couple of months ago, and I haven't seen her since. Up until now, that is. Brian, I think she's dead."
"She can't be dead, I was just looking at her!"
"Her ghost. You could see her, but she couldn't see you."
"I can't see dead people!" he declared, turning white.
I almost laughed. "Well, you just did." I eyed him for a moment, musing. "Brian, don't be so shocked, it runs in the family. I've been seeing ghosts most of my life, and Mom since she was a baby." I told him.
He glanced at me with the widest eyes I'd ever seen.
"Don't you remember the stories she's told? And remember Mikel?"
"The man you 'saw' once in the doorway upstairs, and you were so scared you flew all the way down them?"
"How do you know his name?"
"Because, Brian, I've been seeing him for nearly two decades. I first saw him when we were two."
"How do you know his name?" he repeated.
"He told me."
With that last statement, and his terrified & bewildered expression, my dream began to fade away.
Moments later, I woke up, thinking, "Whoa..." Since when have my dreams ever been as real, yet, as not real as that? What I mean by that statement is that my dreams, well, they're always a mystery (in origin). Very rarely do I have dreams that have any immediate and obvious relation to things I've seen or experienced in real life. Usually, they occur in places unknown, with people unknown. So, to have my actual brother and mother in a dream (especially together) is out of this world--so to speak.