Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 10/14/2025
By blucanary
It was late at night. Not the kind that just blankets the earth, but the kind that hums — heavy, living, and watchful. I stood outside a house that wasn’t mine, and yet somehow it was. I knew it to be mine. It was tall— anywhere from three to possibly even seven stories high — and beautiful. White walls framed by moss-green trim, with matching shutters around every window. A dream house, in every sense. The windows stacked like the pages of a holy book. Every floor a chapter, every window, a verse I had once clung to, alone & in the dark. I looked up toward the top floor, my bedroom, and without hesitation, I leapt up and caught hold of one of the shutters. And I began to climb. Not with ladders or light, but with faith-torn hands. Shutter to shutter, window to window, until I reached the upper room — my bedroom, the place of holy solitude & rest. I slipped inside my open bedroom window and quickly shut it behind me, my heart still pounding from the climb. But peace rarely comes without interruption. Someone walked up behind me—a roommate, maybe. Or my sister? I didn’t really know, but in the dream, I felt like I *should* have known. Like she was just familiar enough that she felt as though she belonged there. She came in just as I shut the window, her hands held in front of her, her voice trembling. “What was that noise?” she asked. I froze. *I* was the noise. All that thumping and scraping had been me scaling the side of the house—but I couldn’t tell her that. For some reason, I either *wouldn’t* or *couldn’t* tell her the truth. So I forced a small smile and said, “I don’t know. I’m sure it was nothing. Don’t worry about it. Go back to bed.” She didn’t move. Her fear deepened, and she begged me to check again. “I already did,” I told her. “That’s why I'm at the window — I heard something small and looked to see if maybe it was a cat or something, but there’s nothing out there.” Still, she wouldn’t relent. Her hands trembled as she whispered, “Please. Look again.” With a sigh, I turned back toward the window, half-exasperated, half-amused, fully exhausted —when I saw.... *it*. Staring straight back at me from the darkness was a *thing*. Humanoid in shape, but its skin was brown and appeared slimy, its face shaped like a sucker fish— mouth round and protruding, as if built only for clinging on to something for no other reason than to suck and drain. Its eyes were large, black, and bottomless. And though its body was like that of a pre-pubescent twelve-year-old boy, the figure itself seemed strangely feminine. It was its hair that made it seem feminine; a chin-length brown bob swaying slightly. Then suddenly, there were three of them, right outside the window. Staring in. At me. Watching. Their mouths protruding in and out as though already preparing to suck, to *drain*. My stomach dropped. We were on the top floor—how were they even up here? Were they standing on something? Flying? Floating? I couldn’t tell. And the uncertainty made it worse. Then I heard it — the noise my roommate had been so afraid of. The sound of something climbing the side of the house. Scraping. Pulling. Clawing. Had she really heard me earlier… or had it been them? How close had they been to me when I was out there... A chill crept through me. Through the reflection in the window, I saw my roommate standing behind me — in the reflection, her face looked distorted, but I could clearly see her trembling hands and her short brown bob. Her short. Brown. Bob. Identical to the first thing in the window.. It was then I realized—I didn’t know her at all. My gaze flicked between the reflection in the glass and the faces outside, until I couldn’t tell which side of the window any of us were even on anymore. The air grew thick. My forehead dampened with sweat. The truth pressed down hard and heavy. Some battles climb with you. Some voices you thought were behind you are really the echoes of what’s still trying to get in. The truth that pressed down heaviest, however, was the truth that I was trapped.