Tell Me Your Dreams Novels & Stories

Peter asked Derek as he reentered the room, pouring his friend more water and then a glass for himself. "Fine, I broke my fever thankfully," Derek said before taking a sip. Peter sighed in relief. Taking a drink himself, Peter then asked "Do you think dreams try to tell us something?" "Dreams?" he asked and Peter nodded. "Well... my dreams show me what I want. For example, I have a recurring dream about being surrounded by beautiful women falling over themselves for me." He said with his chin up. "But my dream wasn't what I wanted." Peter shook his head.

he said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, “there’s something bothering you. Won’t you please tell us? We just might be able to help.” “Well,” I said hesitantly while refusing to look at anything other than the cup of tea I held in my lap, “it’s just that every so often… not a lot, mind you, but every so often I have these dreams… about… err…Luthias.” “What type of dreams?” grandfather asked. After a long hesitation, I said, “Romantic.”

I take his desk chair as he sits on his bed. “We could go for a walk if that feels better for you? I wouldn't want rumours about us starting if you are seen going in or coming out of my room.” I contemplate, “No, everyone knows that we’re just friends and I’d rather have rumours than that people over hear what I want to ask you. “For a couple of months I’ve been having dreams that show me snippets of events. Usually the dreams warn me of something that’s going to happen so I can prepare myself and keep myself and others safe,” I gauge his reaction.

“Do you have any idea what could cause something like that?” “No,” he said, quickly. “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone else, though. I didn’t feel like I should say anything to anyone, but then, it sort of slipped out here today. Most of the dreams were just your regular daily activities, walking through the forest, a day at the zoo, picnic in the park…. All of my dreams are vivid, but the ones with you seemed so real. It’s all really weird.”

Without any dreams, good or bad ones. /

What did he know that I didn't? “Please, I need to understand. Why do these dreams seem so real? Who are you? Where did you come from?” I drop our hands down, taking a step away from him. “Why am I so… connected to you.” I whisper the last part, clenching and unclenching my hands desperately.

I want to get to know you more. Fairytale_Dream: What would you like to know? I’m an open book. White.Wolf_Knight: Everything. I want to know everything I can about you. Fairytale_Dream: Well, you know I’m an only child and that it’s just me and my dad as my mom passed away a few years ago and you know my interests. Is there anything in particular you would like to know about me? And don’t forget our agreement from our last conversation you ask one question I ask one in return.

“I’m less scared when you’re here. That’s the honest truth.” Something in my chest softened quietly. “You’re scared?” “Yes.” He said simply. No performance in it. He pulled me back to the bed and we sat facing each other, close enough that our knees almost touched. “Tell me.” I said. He exhaled. “I’ve been having dreams. The same one, more than once. It’s been keeping me out of myself.” A dream that would put someone in that state? “What kind of dream?” I asked. “A woman. I can’t see her face. Just her outline. Her voice.” He turned the information over like he was still trying to make sense of it himself. “She told me if I want to know who she is, I should ask my father.”

"Because every day you look worse." "I appreciate your honesty." "You never appreciated honesty before." That made me pause as I looked at her. "How would you know?" Maya closed her laptop slowly. "Because I knew you before all this." Again answers that say something without saying anything and I was getting tired of it. I took a sip of coffee before speaking. "I keep having dreams." Her face changed slightly. "What kind?" I shrugged. "I don't know." Maya frowned. "You always say that."

I routinely slapped a pain-relief patch onto my wrist before packing my things to head back to the dorms. The conductor approached me. “Naomi, we have a change of plans. Someone is taking your place. “I’m afraid you won’t be joining us for the performance next week.” … My mind went blank. From the age of seven to twenty-one, I went through fourteen years of tough seasons, just to gain this opportunity. I was just one step away from realizing my dream and fulfilling my mother’s dying wish. Yet now… Gritting my teeth, I asked heart-wrenchingly, “Sir, may I know who has been given my role?”