Dream Someone Crying Novels & Stories

It was like the visit and hug were real. "Your longing manifested into a dream. You must have been missing her so much." Helen commented. Well, I couldn't deny it as it was true. It was just a rare occurrence for me to cry in my dream, and that dream also turned into reality. Usually, the cries occurred in my dream, or I would pour tears on my bed before sleeping or after waking up from a sad dream. That brought me to question her for a similar experience. She said it never happened to her.

He seemed to be fading. “I’ll see you again, Jennah.” The buzzing grew louder. Jennah opened her eyes. Her alarm clock was going off. She reached over and slapped a hand on the snooze button and then focused to make sure she was in her room. She blew out a breath and tried to shake the fog from her mind. That explained a few things. The dream was so real, but not at the same time. Too bad, really. That man, Dominic, her mind had invented was quite nice to look at. No more chocolate caramel popcorn for you before bed, she thought as she slowly sat up.

What’s more horrifying about the dream is the possibility of something like that happening. “I. . . .,” I try to speak amidst crying. “I had a bad dream.” I broke out again. My hands sink into my hair, roughening it as I try to get the image of my battered face out of my head. There was so much blood. . . My blood. I think I’m going crazy. “In my dream I died!” I sob. “Brutally and I don’t want to-“ Just then, warm arms envelop my body, pulling me into an embrace.

She is describing what happened to her in our past life, that means she is also reborn but also that of all the things that happened to her in her past life, the betrayal that came from Vivian crushed her the most. She had unconsciously not let go of her relationship with Vivian and now whatever happened in her office made her finally let go and she is grieving what could have been. I take off my coat and shoes and climb into bed with her. She immediately curls her body towards me and continues to silently cry. After a while she wakes up hiccuping. " You are okay sweetheart. I promise." she nods. " Have I been crying in my sleep?" I nod. " I think you were woken up by your hiccups, but its n

She smiles sadly at me. I jolt awake from my dream. Sweat is covering my body and I am breathing heavily. I reach out to touch her but I only find an empty bed. I can’t help but cry, I know I am an Alpha but I cry myself to sleep every night, well if I don’t drink until I pass out. Then I usually wake up crying from some dream that I wish were reality.

If he ever stands in front of a mirror and hates himself the way I sometimes do. I don’t cry anymore. Not really. The tears dried up somewhere between my third rejection email and the night I couldn’t sleep because the apartment was too quiet. But I dream. And in my dreams, we’re back in that shitty walk-up apartment, burning pasta on the stove and laughing until it hurt. Those dreams are the worst kind—sweet and sharp, like a knife wrapped in silk. I wake up from them gasping, aching, and furious all over again.

It was unusual for Haze to leave their room unlocked, especially considering the importance they placed on personal space. There, in the dimly lit room, I saw Haze on her bed, her body trembling and tears streaming down her face. It was evident that she was having a terrible nightmare. She was crying out in her dreams, her voice filled with desperation, 'Don't die, Ricky. Please don't leave me alone.' For a brief moment, I wondered who Ricky was, a flicker of jealousy arising within me, but I quickly pushed it aside. I called out, 'Haze, wake up, Haze,' as I shook her body, trying to wake her from the grips of her terrifying dream.

Shock and disbelief grip me as I collapse to my knees, releasing a heartbreaking cry. Suddenly, I'm jolted awake by someone shaking me. Arnold's concerned face comes into focus, and I can't help but leap into his arms. Between broken sobs, I whisper, “Ryan is your son.” Arnold nods, but doubt lingers in his eyes, intensifying the ache in my heart. Overwhelmed by the vivid emotions of the dream, I cry until exhaustion pulls me back into a restless sleep. The night unfolds with a haunting blend of reality and nightmares, leaving us grappling with uncertainties and unspoken truths.

I screamed. My eyes fluttered opened, I was breathing heavily, I could hear my own heart pounding against my chest, I slowly looked around. I am in my room... So it was just a nightmare? Tears welled up in my eyes as I remembered what happened in the nightmare, since the day my mom died I usually dream about her, but there were all sweet dreams, of the Good moments we had together. Why is this one a bad dream? I blinked back the tears that were threatening to roll down from my eyes, crying won't bring back my mother, Crying won't stop the pain I am feeling, crying won't solve anything.

angry. "None of you cared, alright?!" And that's me again. But I sound... like I was crying. My eyes flew open and I quickly took a few deep breaths. I wiped away my tears, sat up and dialed the one person I know can help me. "Brayden?" "Yeah?" He replied. He sounds so much awake. "I just had a bad dream. I- I can't remember what's it about but it's really bad." "Was it scary?" He asks.