Unfinished

3. Marlen Defoe

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been having strange and unexplainable dreams. A lot of them I have forgotten over the time, but some still linger in my mind as if it all happened just yesterday. Being a child and having horror dreams about witches and wizards, I guessed it was natural for everyone; after all, children are known to have a wild imagination and I was no exception. I remember I would cover myself with my duvet and believe that no evil could see me or find me there. When I got too scared, I would sit up in bed and start screaming for my grandmother. It wouldn’t take long for her to come. She always stayed with me until I fell asleep and then quietly leave the room. Sometimes I’d wake up and start calling her again so the same process followed. She rarely stayed with me the whole night. I didn’t understand it back them, but I do now; it was probably her way of letting me get used to being alone and not afraid of the darkness.

The fear being in the dark didn’t leave me, until I turned eleven. That was the time when my dreams stopped and for some time I didn’t dream at all. I didn’t pay attention, but after some time, they came back. That’s when I’ve started wondering...was it a gift? My dreams were like movies, like books, like perfection pictures. Something I have never seen or heard of before. Perhaps they were memories of my past life? Whatever they were and are, does not matter anymore, I am about to put them down on the paper and tell the world about the dreams of Marlene Defoe.

Story 1:

I shall start off with the dream I had when I was very, very little. I cannot remember exactly how old I was, but I was still in the kindergarten. The dream that haunted me for many sleepless nights consisted of:

“I was walking down a small hill to my great grandmother’s house when I saw an electricity pole right next to her neighbour’s house and under the pole there was an old woman. She was leaning on it. Sleeping. Soundlessly. She had long curly and frizzy grey hair that was spread over her shoulders and fell on her face. Her nose was crooked and her lips were thin. The tone of her skin was pale grey with some yellowness. She was terrifying. I could see the crows resting near her and above her. I’ve tried my best to walk as quietly as possible, but when I was just passing by, she opened her eyes and looked at me. Straight into my own eyes. I was frozen. Her lips moved as the words escaped her them, but I couldn’t hear a word. All I could see were her eyes that pierced me and summoned me to come closer. I wanted to run. As if reading my mind she stood up and raised her arms in the air; that moment the crows flew to me...” and I woke up.

I had that dream so often that I slowly got used to it. Not very fun if you are a child. When in every shadow in your room you see skeletons or green, green eyes that are watching your every move. Now when I look back at that time I realise how silly I was. My interpretation of this dream is:

“The crows symbolize enemies [people, rumours]. Women in dreams symbolise rumours, not of a good subject. So, people have been talking about me and sending rumours into my direction; while being a child I couldn’t do anything, because I didn’t understand [this is symbolised by my inability to move when the crows flew in my direction.]”

 Story 2: [unfinished]

One of our greatest fears is to lose the one we cherish the most. Mother, father, grandmother, grandfather, aunt, friend, loved one...anyone who has a special place in our hearts. One of the dreams that affected me the most was the disappearance of my mother.

“In the small room of the flat we used to live in, we had a wardrobe made of dark wood. It was covered with polish on top, but it still looked ver...