Younger Dreams Novels & Stories

Hands grip my knees and gently part them. Wide. Wider. Until I’m completely exposed, my most private parts on display for four sets of hungry eyes in the darkness of my childhood bedroom. “She’s so wet,” Tyler whispers. “Look – it’s on her thighs. It’s fucking everywhere. She was definitely dreaming about something.” You, I think, fighting to keep my breathing steady. I was dreaming about you. About all of you. About exactly this. “Spread her more,” Jack breathes. “I want to see everything.”

Will there be anything left of me when everything comes out? Sleep eventually comes, and I dream about a four-year-old with no face. Ava.

At that moment, I suddenly realized that when he smiled, there was something clean and boyish in his face. He was already in his twenties, yet he still looked like a kid who had never quite grown up. I looked away and handed him a document. “Sign these.” “What are they?” “Equity agreements.” Miles took them and was about to sign without even reading. “Aren’t you going to look at the terms?” “No need.” He shook his head and was already looking for a pen. “You wouldn’t hurt me.” I watched him write his name crookedly across the agreement, and something in my chest softened.

, I heard someone sobbing. I went to look around and then saw a boy sitting beneath a nearby tree. His face was hidden in his arms but I felt familiar with him. I stepped towards him. Then a girl appeared. "Huh... That's me..." That was the younger me, I saw in my previous dreams. She went close to him and sat close to him. The younger me calmed him down and put a bandage on his wound. The boy soon stopped crying. They both introduced themselves to each other.

My eyes started to close, the room spinning just a little from the wine. And then I slipped into a dream. --- I was running. My feet slapped against sun-warmed pavement, the sound mixing with the wind and laughter. I was younger. Maybe seven or eight. My hair was in messy pigtails, flying behind me like streamers. The park was huge in my dream. Bigger than it had ever been. The sky was blue, the trees full and green, and the sound of children’s laughter filled the air. Arya chased after me, panting, laughing.

"The nightmares, do they happen a lot?" "Sometimes." I admit. "I have been having them since I was nine. They get worse with years." I hear muffled sounds from the phone and I suspect that he's probably moving, perhaps sitting up straight in bed. "What are they about?" I don't remember a time when I confided to anyone else other than Riley about my dreams well nightmares. "Well it's different. When I was younger i would dream about burning everything including myself and sometimes it would be about drowning. I would wake up with a strong urge to hurt myself."

“Alright, looks like I need to scare the crap out of our Luna’s pup. He’s skipping out from under his bodyguard’s presence. That’s dangerous as fuck with the Fae so close. Gods, I hope he’s staying out of the Dream Realm.” “I thought he was too young for that. Or at least I got the impression he was too young to do that.” “He’s a character with freakish ways. One of which is he can enter the Dream Realm too early in life.” “Is that really a problem?” “For one, who’s going to protect him if he meets up with a presence that thinks he looks tasty? Another problem is understanding the difference between this realm and the Dream Realm. Look at it this way. A child allowed to play video games too

Lucas shrugs them off. What if Trenton told me was true? Since I was in middle school, I kept having dreams of an unknown person who looked like a girl at first. Then, I saw him running towards me while crying as I died. Every time the dream ended, that guy kept saying that wait for him in our next life.

It was fresh and invigorating, and it felt like the winds of change were blowing, as though bigger and better things were only a gust away. I was just another 18-year-old in twelfth grade. Unsurprisingly, that also meant I had teenage hormones that raged constantly, and I was always giving in to them. Aside from any pictures or videos I could have found on the internet, there were scores of pretty girls I found quite appealing at school. The combination of the two caused me to fabricate an endless array of fantasies in my head.

I don't know how. I don’t know how I make the visions happen or control when they do.' She pouts petulantly, looking so much younger than her seventeen years. 'Sometimes I have dreams, about people I don't know, sometimes I see things inside my head I don't understand. But I don't know how to do it on request, or how to do it for specific things.' She scrunches up her nose, a sheer look of despair on her face. A sense of disappointment that she won’t be able to bargain with me if she can’t do it.