The red ghost and other childhood dreams
Witch hunt
I remember a vivid dream from my childhood in which I found myself tied up in a barn. A girl of similar age, a friend, sister or cousin perhaps, felt pity on me, sneaked in to the barn and motioning me to whisper, set me free. We ran through fields of wheat or similar crop down stream along a river. We saw an angry mob searching for us with pitch forks and other farm tools. Signs of modernity were conspicuous only by their absense.
A confrontation with death
One of the delights of my childhood included watching the cine-film silent movies made mostly by my father. And so it came as no surprise to find myself dreaming of them one night. I was in a small dark room with the white screen illuminated by the movie projector. The film was of my grandfathers house, my mothers childhood home. My grandfather still lived there at the time of the dream, and did so until his actual death some fifteen years later.
However in this dream I saw him dead, projected onto the screen, sitting in a rocking chair, filmed in stunning monochrome. The dream did not end there. Next, in full colour, I saw myself at my own home playing with some building blocks by the coal fire. My viewpoint was from outside of myself panning backwards. The view went outside of the room I was in and into the corridor, where a skelleton stood marching on the spot.
I admit that this was a slightly terrifying visage, especially for my seven or eight year old self to take in. It was also intensely satisfying and I delighted in telling people this dream at any and every opportunity.
Resurrection
In another dream my friend at school was unearthing a body from the grassy area beside the school playground. The body, presumably ancient appears to be in incredibly good condition. It is, in fact myself, although much darker skinned and covered in strange body paint. I come to life, much to everyones surprise. I recognise my friend and reasure them not to be afraid.
This dream was so strange I told my friend about it and even pointed out the area where it happened. I held a fascination for dreams rarely shared by other people in my life however, friends and family, children and adults alike.
The red ghost
I had many strange dreams throughout the primary school years of my childhood, but perhaps none quite as profoundly unsettling to my sense of reality and division between dreaming and waking as my encounter with the red ghost.
In the dream I was at my primary school, only instead of people there were 'black ghosts' moving around. I had not heard of 'shadow people' back then, but they fit the general description. They looked like three dimensional animated shadows, with poorly defined edges. They didn't bother me, in fact they hardly noticed my presence and seemed concerned only to go about their own business.
Then there were the 'white ghosts', as I called them in the dream. These were similar except made of light. They were fierce and angry and were actively looking for me. I had the sense, I know not from whence it came, that they meant me harm. I ran from the playground to hide in one of the school cloakrooms but one saw me and called other white ghosts to pursue me.
However, in the cloakroom I found a third type of being. Completely red. At first I was a little afraid of them, but they reasured me and told me they could teach me to become invisible to the white ghosts. We huddled together as the white ghosts came through the cloakroom looking for me. We remained unseen, the red ghost, as I came to call my protector had fulfilled their promise.
And into the waking realm
Strange dream this would have remained if my eight year old self hadn't been completely convinced that this was more than just an ordinary dream and reflected something real. I became convinced that the black ghosts were all around us all the time, just that we couldn't see them. I also felt that I could sense them. I was not afraid of them. I had the red ghost as my ally and protector. Besides it was the white ghosts that bothered me.
I told my brothers and friends about these ghosts and for a while they played along with me, as a game. I would repeatedly tell them however that 'it is not a game, it is real.' Well it was real to me. It became clear however that it was not real to anyone else, and even as young as eight I began to worry about my own sanity.
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