A dream. Christmas eve/morning. My family was staying at my aunt and uncle's house for the holidays.
I was standing at a check-out register (at the library? grocery store?) At another register across from me, there was another kid. His looks reminded me of a kid I knew back in second grade, Stephen Sweten. The kid had pale, olive-greenish skin, like he was really sick. Someone whose face I couldn't see (the register-operator?) was talking to him, or, at least talking in his direction. His face occasionally changed, from something like a pitiful puppy-dog face to beaming, to puzzled, each change happening in an instant. He reminds me of the kid I knew, Stephen from second grade, in that he seems somewhat of a class clown, making insincere faces and gestures just to get attention. The kid in my dream had pale brown, slightly larger than normal eyes that bulged just a little. His hair was messy, like he'd just gotten out of bed.
What I saw on his right wrist was what really got my attention. It looked like a small cut at first, that seemed to open a bit when he moved his hand and forearm. But when he raised his hand to scratch his head, what looked like a cut on his wrist opened into a mouth, a mouth with crooked brownish teeth and a dry looking tongue. When the mouth opened and began to talk, that's when I woke up.
It gets even stranger. I woke up from the dream laying awkwardly on my deflating air mattress. The house was filled with darkness. It must have been about 3:30 AM and everything was completely silent. I found myself repeating the name Tommy Gates in my head over and over again. After a few moments I thought, why do I keep repeating this name? Who in the world is Tommy Gates? I don't know anyone, and don't think I ever knew anyone by that name, but it repeated strongly in my head as if it were definitely the name of someone. When I realized that (perhaps) Tommy Gates was the name of the kid in my dream, I got the chills.
A slight pinch below the equator told me I had to go to the restroom. I DID NOT want to get up and walk through the dark to the bathroom, not with some creepy name repeating in my head and after having that dream. My stupid imagination began to wonder if there had been someone who had lived (and died) in the house named Tommy Gates. Maybe the ghost of Tommy Gates (whoever he is/was) was trying to get my attention. Maybe....well, I don't know, but it was enough to freak me out.
Ugh. I'm getting the chills just thinking about it. I'm glad to be home again, that's for sure, hoping that's the last time I have a dream like that.
What do you think? Anyone out there ever had a brush with the supernatural or at least had a coincidence disturbing enough to make you wonder...?