Tell Me Your Dreams Novels & Stories

"I've been having these dreams... about the Dragon Kingdom. They feel so real, like memories rather than dreams." Alexander frowned slightly, leaning forward. "Tell me more. What are these dreams about?" I recounted the vivid scenes, the dragons soaring in the starry sky, the powerful scent of ancient magic, and finally, my mother appearing in the dreams, urging me to remember something crucial. Each word seemed to carry the weight of the dream world as it spilled from my lips. Alexander listened intently, his expression shifting from concern. "The dreams might be more than just manifestations of your stress," he said finally. "Given your heritage, they could be a sign—a message from your mo

“So, Knight Blackwell, how’s the firm?” “Fine. I just went there to check the first quarter report. Boring stuff.” “Hmm.” “Nirvana, can I ask you something?” “Of course, Zarah.” “Do you believe in dreams?” “Um.” I dabbed my lips before answering. “I think it has something to do with our subconsciousness and brain activity. Why?” “Have you had weird dreams lately?” I laughed softly. “Funny you asked. I just had a weird dream last night. I was in the middle of the woods. It was dark and chilly. I was barefooted, and I saw a gray wolf—”

Let’s go have fun” His dad ushered him to move along. “Dad, can I ask you a question?” “Yeah, sure son. What is it?” His dad responded. “I’ve been having these bad dreams lately. Why am I having these scary dreams?” shyly, he asked. His father stopped walking and fell silent. Melo turned his head up and looked at him. “Hmm. I am not sure how to answer your question, son. Dreams just appear out of nowhere, you know? They are just pigments of our imagination. A form of way to remind us that the brain never stops working even as we close our eyes” His dad answered.

I don’t like that she is not telling me everything. "Yes, I saw it," she replied, her voice a soothing murmur tinged with curiosity. "It was unexpected, to say the least." A sense of unease tugged at the edges of my consciousness as I pondered the significance of the dream. "What do you think it means?" I ventured, seeking guidance from my wise and steadfast companion. Eva's response was measured, her words imbued with a sense of contemplation. "Dreams often carry messages from the depths of our subconscious," she explained. "Perhaps it symbolizes a new beginning, or a hidden desire within your heart."

"I guess you didn't know that." "You...make dreams?" My brows narrowed. "Tell me about that," I said.

After using tissues to wipe my eyes and blow my nose, I cleared my throat. "We're still friends though and I know that should be enough. But it's not... Like I had a dream about her and I woke up so sad," I continued with my narration. "In the video, Dad says something about dreams mimicking reality. And I always thought that quote of his meant I need to do everything to make my dreams come true, but I think I got it mixed up."

Would he be disappointed upon hearing it didn't? "No...And I don't think they're returning anytime soon..." "What makes you think that?" I haven't experienced any flashbacks, nor have I had any dreams since I woke up. Dreams can symbolize fleeting memories or ideals, narrate stories of aspirations, and occasionally invoke fear. Over the recent nights, I didn't encounter any vibrant visual experiences during sleep. I believed my slumber was simply genuinely tranquil, but what if that assumption is incorrect? What if I lack the ability to dream? It's possible that I'm overanalyzing, or maybe my focus on this notion was too intense.

I stop waiting him ta say something. "You can't figure what?" He asks. "The dreams are approximately the same but it's strange." "What do you mean by strange?" "When I have that dream, I wake up in the same our 03:10 am." "And I can guess that, it is different from your past, right?" He says. "No relationship........Except...." "All ears" He encourages me to continue.

"It's your night. You have to figure it out." "I've been trying for two hours. She's hysterical. Something's wrong." I take her. She clings to me. Sobbing. "What's wrong, baby? What happened?" "The person. From the window. They're in my dreams. They keep trying to tell me something." "What are they trying to tell you?" "I don't know. I can't understand them. But they're so sad. So lonely. They need help." This again. The mysterious watcher. "Mira, dreams aren't real. It's just your imagination."

As much as I wanted to believe his words, I found myself unable to. It was just too good to be true. It felt like the easy way out of my problems. "I can't believe you, Nathan," I told him the truth. My lips continued to tremble and tears finally gave way. "I've been having strange dreams," I blurted out in a tiny voice. "I shouldn't even call them dreams but they feel so real, like I'm actually there and I keep seeing a dark version of myself wanting to be released. . ." I revealed as my entire body began to tremble.