I don't remember much of what happened in this dream, except from the last scene. I remember that the whole dream was taking place underwater, because our ship had sunk and I, a middle-aged man and my brother, who was here my little son, had survived. At first I saw, that my other son was dead and so I assumed the same for my daughter. Therefor I found a cabin under the water and sat to write there. I wanted to leave a note in a journal about my daughter, since my now lonley son didn't remeber her and I didn't want to upset him more with another death to think about. The next night I woke up next to my little boy and I noticed a pale hand coming out of the wooden back of the bed. The hand reached out for my little son and he, with out thinking or turning around, pushed it back behind the bed. I stood there schoked and once this strange event was over, I told my son about it. He seemed pretty upset. For some reason that moment I thought, that this had something to do with my little daughter so I told my son about her. At this the part I started getting scared so I woke up.