posted on Jun, 19 2008 @ 10:15 AM
I had a dream when I was about 17 years old, in which I died. Shot through the head.
It was quite vivid - I still remember it footstep for footstep. Where I was when I heard the noise like a gunshot outside (lying on the floor of the
room next to my bedroom). Telling family members to kill the lights and get away from the windows. Going down the stairs to lock the back door.
Telling my father to keep down. Seeing the shooter through the window, and the slow-motion of the bullet fracturing the glass before everything went
I wrote it all down, at the time. Certainly was not getting back to sleep. I wrote down all the detail, because it was so vivid: everything was
different, but it was still the same house. What colour the walls and carpets were, what people were wearing, odd pictures on the walls, everything I
could remember. Told my parents about it the next day, and a couple of other people I knew. Everyone thought it was freaky.
Fast forward about 10 or 12 years.
I was staying back at my parents house for a night. Stretched out on the floor, practicing astral projection. Not in my room - that's a sewing room
or something since I left. Staying in the guest room next door, used to be someone's bedroom before all of us fled the nest. Suddenly a bang, like a
shotgun blast. On my feet, out the door, strangely telling people to get away from the windows and moving through molasses. It hit me, and I said it
out loud: "I dreamed this." The back door is unlocked. Down the stairs (there's dad - keep down) to the back door... and nothing.
I dug through a bunch of my old stuff that night (again, sleep was out of the question), and found the journal I used to write dreams in. Everything -
what people in my family were wearing, how rooms were arranged, what I looked like to me (substantially different).. it was all there, to the letter.
Minus the bullet - and the bit where I said that I'd dreamed it.
That is the strangest thing that has ever happened to me.
I can't explain it, and to be honest I would not likely believe it if someone told me. But there it is. I get an odd feeling writing about it though.