The seed will reveal your reality

Date: 11/24/2018

I was a teenage black girl, and I came home to find the door cracked open. Cautiously I stepped inside. It was rainy and windy outside so I wondered if maybe the storm had blown the door open. Still, it didn’t seem right. I step through kitchen to the living room and something just feels off. I hear a noise from what sounds like another room, maybe upstairs. “Mom?” I call out tentatively. There’s no answer. I continue to creep around the house, flicking on a few lights, and then I hear more noise. I take a second to check the kitchen once more and again everything just feels...off. There’s a thing of weird looking tea out—like it doesn’t sound like a real flavor. And there’s a half eaten bowl of cereal just sitting on the counter. The sink is crammed full of dirty dishes which makes no sense because my mom is a neat freak. There’s this uneasy feeling in my gut but I can still hear what sounds like another person in the house every now and again. Nervously, I go back through the dining room and living room and etc which are all around the big staircase in the middle of the house. I can’t bring myself to go upstairs. I keep calling for my mom but she doesn’t answer. There are decorations knocked over and laying on the floor that I have to step around. They’re always weird decorations-stuff I didn’t know we had. A stuffed crow on the living room floor, but it’s head has been broken off. A bowling ball among a pile of dirty clothes by the laundry closet. Part of me tries to be rational and believe it’s just the wind from the open door. But the rest of me knows something else is going on. I stand really still just staring at the dark black of the windows for a moment. The city and the mountains far off, the faint glow of lights. The rain is dumping in sheets, and the wind is howling. I can feel it brushing lightly against my skin, still getting in the house somehow, and it’s like I can feel it going through every hair on my arm. Very hyper-realistic and vivid. “Mom??” I call for the tenth time. Still no answer. I’m circling back to the kitchen, and I jump when I see her standing at the counter. “Mom, what are you doing? Didn’t you hear me calling? I thought someone was in here.” She doesn’t really answer, just shrugs and continues chopping vegetables and root looking things. She’s putting them all in a blender. I ask her about what’s going on and stuff but she just gives me vague answers about the storm and whatnot. I tell her it really seems like someone broke in, but she just responds by saying very ominously, “Honey there’s no one here but us.” “You’re not acting like yourself,” I say, and she seems offended by this. “You shouldn’t talk to me like that.” “Where’s dad?” “Don’t ask me about your father.” That sickened feeling keeps growing. “Why is everything such a mess?” I ask as I step around the small kitchen. “We haven’t even used this many pots and pans.” She acts like I’m just being judgmental or something. I open up a cupboard. “Mom, why did you buy the pink crusty cereal? You know I don’t like it, and I’m the only one who eats cereal. What’s going on with you?” She seems annoyed that I keep pushing this point and impatiently points to the half eaten bowl of cereal. My mind is racing with the question: who else was here? With every disinterested answer I’m convinced that something has happened to my mom. “Mom, seriously, what’s going on here? Why is everything a mess, why are you being weird, where’s dad? Why didn’t you call him about the storm? Why wasn’t the alarm going off when the door was open?” “Sweety, sweety, you need to calm down.” There’s noise from upstairs again and it sends me into a panic. “Mom SERIOUSLY what’s going on! Is that dad up there??” “Your father isn’t home anymore!” She says, almost angrily. Then she reigns herself back in and walks over to the cupboard where there’s a huge tea stash that I don’t ever remember bring there. Except they’re all very weird sounding. They seem more like ingredients for a witches spells than tea. “You just need to relax,” she says and pulls a bag down. The package is opaque other than two eyes illustrated on the label. The tea that shines through where the irises would be is electric blue. “Mom what is that?” “I’ll just make you a cup of tea and you can relax.” “I am not drinking that!” I say backing away. “What’s wrong with you? Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” A voice starts speaking through the air but I can’t tell if it’s just in my head or not. It’s a woman’s voice, speaking some riddle about needing to take the acorn seed if I want to truly see what happened. It sounds as if it’s the wind itself speaking to me. I look at the counter and now there are dark vines growing all across it and amongst its leaves there’s a large acorn the size of my hand. “What’s she talking about?” My heart is pounding now. I wish it would all end. “What does she mean truly see? What happened!” My mother sighs in annoyance and picks up the giant knife she’s been cutting vegetables with. She slowly points it at me and I stumble backwards. “You should’ve just drank your tea.” “Mom, What are you doing!” I shriek, unable to stop the tears now. “What happened to dad!” The wind’s voice whispers to me again—though it almost sounds like it’s coming from the acorn. “Take the seed, and all will be revealed.” I can’t process any of this. The house seems to be getting darker by the minute. And I notice now all the candles my mother has lit. She hates candles—calls them a fire hazard. Nothing she’s doing seems like her—especially the way she’s threatening me with that knife. Something in me snaps and I just fly into action, though I’m sobbing the whole time. She tries to stab me but I duck away. She grabs me and I shove her away, into the cabinets. We struggle a bit by the sink but the acorn is just inches from my grasp. The knife has gone clattering to the tile and as she lunges to retrieve it, I yank the acorn from the vine and pop the top off. Inside is a glowing blue seed. My “mom” stands there with the knife, looking so mad and defeated. I place the seed in my open palm and feel its warmth, it’s consciousness, pouring into me. Calmly and silently my “mom” drops the knife and walks over to her chopped roots and veggies. She moves the vines aside and underneath there’s a bowl and more candles and basically witchy stuff. She pours some “tea” into the bowl and starts chanting like it’s some ritual. “No, no, no, no, no.” I say, but I can’t drop the seed. My “moms” eyes start glowing, but also going dark. I can feel the seed whispering to me but it’s as if it’s another language. We’re surrounded by a kind of haze so I can’t see the rest of the house, but I can just tell that something is changing. She finishes her chanting and as the haze disappears so does she. “You wanted to see, well now your eyes will be forever opened to reality,” she says just before she’s gone. The haze is gone, the seed no longer glows in my hand. I close my fingers around it and all of me is shaking. The first thing I see that’s different is the bowls on the counter. The candles have gone out and they look like they’ve been abandoned there for years. The bowl isn’t filled with strange tea. It’s filled with blood, and what I can only assume is pieces of meat. I look at the cutting board and the knife that’s now bloody. It isn’t carrots. It’s human fingers. The blender looks like...well like what you’d imagine. I throw a hand to my mouth and try not to throw up everywhere. I look at the sink and it’s full of human guts and organs and intestines. That’s where I first begin screaming. I stumble out of the kitchen and around to the living room. There are leaves all over the ground, and I can still feel that bitter cold wind swirling around the room. I look to where the stuffed crow had been, but it’s not a crow. It’s my father’s torso and his head has been detached from it. I scream louder. Tears are streaming down my face and I feel like if I scream any harder I’ll just explode. The house is in even more disarray than I’d thought it was before. Candles have all melted far down, the wax hardened and dusty like they hadn’t been lit in ages. I get back around to the laundry area and I really don’t want to look. I just know what I’m going to see. I look for the bowling ball on top of dirty laundry. There isn’t one. Just my mother’s decapitated and bloody head sitting on top of a bunch of veins/guts/idk nasty crap. I scream so loud and hard it’s as if I can feel my vocal chords ripping apart. I turn around and sprint for the front door. There’s still the sound of someone upstairs. I don’t dare go up there. I grab the door handle and frantically try to turn it. The panic makes it near impossible to control my hands. I can hear them walking down the steps. Plunk. Plunk. Plunk. I’m still shrieking, unable to do anything else, and finally I manage to fling the front door open. It’s still dark, and the storm has subsided some, but not much. There are a bunch of trees in our front yard, but as I bolt away, I find that’s there’s now a ton of underbrush and bushes and whatnot. I get all tangled up in it and stumble to the ground. I see headlights and start screaming frantically for help. I get myself picked up from the thickets but now my arms are all scratched up. Several people come running for me and I’m begging for help. “It’s okay! We’re here now, you’re safe.” I don’t know why, but I just don’t feel I can trust them. They’re all very calm, even though they’re getting stuck in the prickly bushes trying to get me out. I’d been so terrified that I’d run right into the middle of it all before stopping. “You’ll come with us, we can keep you safe,” a girl about my age says, holding out her hand. “Why are you helping me?” Out of the corner of my eye I see a few of them stopped and just staring at the moon. Her friendly smile fades just a bit, but it’s enough for me to notice. “Just give us the seed, and we’ll make sure you’re safe.” I can feel the dormant seed resting in my pocket. I don’t even remember bringing it with me. More than just in my pocket, though, I can feel it within me. I have to protect it. And the only one I can trust is me. I kick the girl in the face and scramble out of the underbrush the opposite way and then just run, and run, and run until I can’t run anymore.

AI generated interpretation This dream could be interpreted as a reflection of your inner conflict and feelings of powerlessness. The storm and the feeling of something being off in the house could symbolise chaos and confusion in your life. You feel like something is wrong and want answers, but your mom is not being forthcoming with information. The decorations around the house are strange and out of place, and the half-eaten bowl of cereal could represent a lack of nourishment and care. Your father's absence could indicate feelings of abandonment and neglect. The vines and acorn could symbolise a hidden truth that your subconscious is trying to reveal. The electric blue seed could be a representation of your inner power to uncover the truth and take back control of your life. The woman's voice, which could be interpreted as your intuition, is prompting you to take the seed and uncover the reality of the situation. The scene in the kitchen reveals the truth of the situation: your mother is not who you thought she was and she was engaging in dark rituals. The bowl of blood and human body parts could represent an underlying fear of violence and death. Your mother's anger and hostility towards you could symbolise an inner fear that authority figures in your life are a threat.