Meaning of Dream

I didn’t sleep much last night and have this dream coming back into my head. I experienced it when I was around six years old.

I am in a room; it is dark and musty. Looking over I see walls on all sides but in the center sits a pedestal. Resting there are beautiful flowers of all colors–red, blue, white, yellow, and pink. I turn away from them and try to find a way out. In the corner of my ear, I hear whispering. It is faint and frightening and grows louder.

Soon, all I can hear is a indistinguishable whispering. Several voices going on about nonsense in my head.

I look back at the flowers and notice the white one is bending over in a sickly fashion. The others follow suit turning slow shades of brown. Of all the voices, I make sense of one now.

“Help us” it whispers. “Help us.” I can’t. I can’t do anything. I stand there and watch them–watch them wither away into dust. The dust we all become upon death. The kind that gusts in the wind and stains our tables.

Still, I stand there young and failed. I could not save them. The flowers were all dead, but the whispers continued.

"Save us, save us, save us " they say in a hallowed out voice. It is aired and brings me discomforting chills. Looking at the dead petals, I realize something. I could not save them. I had failed.

I awoke soon after and ran to my mother’s room in fear. She told me to go back to bed. I experienced the dream once more. This time instead of “save us” they chanted “help us.” Again, I could not help them. I failed a second time.

Several times in my life this dream has revisited. It torments with my mind and jests with my emotions. I am not free of it, and I always fail. It visited me last night to remind me that I strive in vain. I do not stop though. I know that this next time, I will not fail.


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I am deeply sorry you had to watch that happen to your mother. I wish you well. In the end, I guess we are all like the flowers. Even when withered and gone they still hold beauty, though.

Take care.

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Dreams are my passion when it comes to the mind.

My guess would be that your mind was sending a call for help even at that age. Often the sub conscious mind, in the form of dreams, asks for help by teling you to help ‘us’ or ‘them’. This is something i base off what others have talked about, the subconscious mind seems to like speaking in empirical terms.