Novel & Cerita Dream Stories

My face remained blank with my eyes still locked on yours. "How did nightmares became different with dreams when they both happens in my dream?" You let out a small laugh while I remained silent, seriously waiting for an answer. "Alright. Nightmares are dreams, but bad dreams. And bad dreams never come true. Only the good ones, hm?" "Bad dreams are still dreams. There's a possibility that they may come true as well." "Oh, baby, come on." You let out another chuckle as you pulled me into an another hug. You started to rub my back again, but this time it was a little faster than earlier.

Joana was in a dream world thinking of Maxwell and how they would sleep on the same bed with him. Emma started feeling hot after taking two glasses of red wine.

Conrad starts to open up once they started eating. “Dad, do you think that I’m really that of a mess right now?” Conrad asked. “You know you’re not a mess,” Scott answered. “What made you think that?” He asked. “It’s just that, I can’t think straight anymore,” Conrad answered. “Every night, I kept thinking these unrealistic events that uncertainly won’t happen. Then I kept waking up to the same nightmare over and over again.” He continued. “I’m also afraid that if I hurt someone, they will leave me…”

She assumed that her friend didn't use hair dryer usually, so that he wouldn't recognize the sound 'Work and work,' she sighed Dea put on her usual loose-fitting t-shirt and pajamas, standing in front of the large dressing table. She applied some night cream on her face and closed the tube, getting ready for going to sleep She walked to her bedroom and switched off the light, then lay on the soft bed quietly. The moonlight was still illuminating the room as the window was opened. The smell of jasmine flowers covered the air, right outside there was a little garden front of the condo and it was made by her when she had got vacations time

I've been searching for the so-called library for three days with no results. Aside from that, another thing occupying my thoughts is… my dreams. I still don't get why I keep dreaming about those strange people. I think it's trying to force me to learn something. I look forward to nighttime the most. I want to see what happens next, to figure out the dreams! To make this happen, I need to fall into a deep sleep, one that I won't wake up for a long time until I grasp the meaning of the dreams. Funny enough, the dream always finishes in the same manner — ends in where the lady dies after childbirth, then the man wallows in grief. I guess understanding my dreams is a priority, something I can d

Her skin soft and warm against his, her breath on his chest, her hair smelled of lavender brushed under his chin. "You don't remember anything?" she couldn't imagine what he must've gone through. He shook his head, "I had a dream about it ... I think it was a glimpse of what I saw in that brief time I woke up in that room ..." he rubbed his face to wipe away the nightmare. "I don't want something like that to happen to you ... we can't risk it, your teacher is right, we have to get out of this contract." Charlie paused for a moment, she too had a confession to make. "About my teacher ..."

replied Lee Umji then got up and sat back on the sofa. Ha Mino followed Lee Umji to sit back down. "What kind of dream?" "I ... seemed to see Kim Hana's life. I thought when I first dreamed about a woman named Kim Hana then it was just an ordinary sleeping flower. Then a few nights later I returned to dreaming about it, the name Min Junho also appeared, although Min Junho's face seemed to be covered by it a flash of light, " Lee Umji's story made Ha Mino dumbfounded.

Is that guy going to save me? He was a bit of a practical person and dream was kind of artificial to him sometimes. But it wasn’t that he hated dream in general. There are certain dreams that are just ridiculous. Dream is called as ‘flower of slumber’ after all, as it was a form of imagination for people that was already stressed out in their wake. But there were also dreams that predict the future, and he was leaning on this one for the dream he had last night. Besides, the guy did say about escaping. So it wouldn’t hurt to trust—oh who was he kidding? It wasn’t trust, it was hope.

The longest, loudest yawn she’d ever done. Her eyelids were so heavy now, but how could that be? How could you fall asleep when you were already dreaming? She remembered something they’d covered in school the previous Halloween. About a writer and one of his poems, about dreams within dreams, but she hadn’t really been paying attention and couldn’t for the life of her recall his name.

The entire night was filled with surreal and fragmented dreams—none of them forming a coherent story. In one of the dreams, Miranda cradled a chubby, smiling baby in her arms. Behind her stood a tall, gentle man, softly encircling her waist, quietly reminding her to watch her step. But when she turned to look at him, he vanished. All that remained was an endless field of wild grass, stretching as far as her eyes could see. No trace of the man, no one to turn to.