The Haunted House

Last night I dreamt of living in a house down from a hill with a family. I don't think this was my own family in waking reality. But in the dream I was part of a family with a mom, dad, sister, brother. I can't remember them very well, or even which one I was. A younger male. Was I dating their daughter? I can't remember.

I do remember this. Atop the hill was a haunted house. In fact, it looked much like the one in the picture above. None of my family dared go near it. We knew it was inhabited by spirits. It was a fearful place. Yet the younger female in this family - was I dating her? - she snuck up to the house. And then, she was not seen anymore. The spirits had imprisoned her. We were all very upset. On the top floor, a door opened, and she stood in the way. There was movement behind her, and communication was not possible. The door closed.

I had to get to her. The house was large. The people who once lived her must have been rich. Somehow I push past my fear and I gain entrance to the house. I see people. Old people. They are lounging casually. I'm confused, moving quickly about the second floor which we are upon.

Then it strikes me. These old people are us. We are the ghosts.