The Haunting in My Dreams

don’t know how to explain it, but something… or someone… has been in my head. It started with nightmares, the kind that don’t go away. The kind that feel real.

The first dream was simple—I walked to the gas station late at night to buy a candy bar. On my way back, a woman stood at the bus stop. Her hair was long, jet black, and covered part of her face. I thought nothing of it. But when I sat down on the bus, I turned my head, and she was staring at me—eyes wide, unblinking. Then, right before my stop, she leaned close and whispered, “You’re already dead.” Then the bus went dark. I woke up sweating.

I had that dream five nights in a row.

The next dream was worse. I was running through my neighborhood, but everything was… wrong. The houses were empty, the streetlights flickered, and the air was thick, like I was running through water. I could hear footsteps behind me, but when I turned around, no one was there. Then a voice whispered, “Keep running. It’s right behind you.” I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I had that dream six nights in a row.

Then came the wolf. It wasn’t just a wolf—it walked on two legs, wearing a torn-up suit, its mouth twisted into a grin that stretched too far. It stalked my school, hiding in shadows, waiting for the lights to go out. One by one, my classmates disappeared. I hid under my desk, holding my breath. It found me anyway. I had that dream seven nights in a row.

By then, I was too scared to sleep. But the dreams didn’t care.

The last one was the worst. Shadows crawled along my bedroom walls. Faces, grinning, whispering. I recognized them—they were from a book I read years ago. But now they were real, moving, laughing, reaching for me. I had that dream eight nights in a row.

Then the voices started. “It is coming.” Over and over. Whispering when I was alone. Echoing in my head. My mom said it was just nightmares. But I know the truth.

It stopped when I turned eight. But some nights… when I close my eyes… I still hear the whispers.

“It is coming.”

And I don’t know what “it” is.

But I know it’s real.