Have you ever been somewhere in a dream that you have never been to in real life? Perhaps inside of a house, where you see details like furniture and trinkets, or even stairs. Yet you know there is no way your mind has a memory of such a place, besides being in your dream?
And, has it every happened, that you forget about said dream? Until one day, perhaps even years later, you are driving (on a road trip etc.) and you spot the house that you dreamt of? You sit in disbelief, stunned at what you see?
How can it really exist?
I experienced just this type of event 10 years ago, with the little blue house, in the woods...
In a forest, 9 hours from my house, sat the eery little place. Exactly as I dreamt it, inside and out.
I had never been there before in my life.
An older woman, dressed in a simple calico dress that was stained and old (covered by a thick man' sweater) came to the door and beckoned us in. She was deaf, and so she ushered us along. Pointing us up some stairs.
Is her house on some sort of tour I wondered? Is she selling something?? It surely wasn't a tour? There were no signs outside. We were just walking in the woods and came upon this place...
I looked at Mister Lovee and asked, why are we doing this? Isn't this strange to you?
Still, up the stairs we went. It was so cold, and so odd. This woman, having us roam around this place...
Part of my thought was that it was a trap, and we'd never escape...
We went into a room upstairs. I told Mister Lovee we should leave...
He tells me to be calm. All is fine. I whisper outloud "ya sure, this is what people do in scary movies, they keep forging on, and then..."
We continue poking along, until we get to little attic stairs. I look at Mister, he says go on... And I say, "okay, just a peek. I mean, we are snooping in this ladie's house..."
Right there in the attic, was the kitchen. How unusual is that?
I decided I really wanted to leave. I march down the stairs, quickly yet quietly. I come around the corner and bump into the woman. Her skin is dark olive, with a grey glow to it.
I smile big. Wonderful house I say, as I nod. She smiles. I don't know if she understands what I am saying. All of a sudden, a loud bell starts ringing. I mean loud. I see a bell attached to the wall to ceiling seam in the living room, with a string attached to it that wraps around the corner and obviously goes far away into the part of the house were were not in. Almost to a basement...
The string is moving, like someone is pulling it. But she doesn't budge, she can't hear it of course.
So, I point to my ears, and then to the bell. She looks up at the bell, and the string going mad, and she does nothing.
Just stands blankly looking at me and smiles.
I go to open the front door. She comes from behind me and closes it.
OMG!!!!!!
She points to a room where you would normally think to find the kitchen and it is full of doors. Hundreds of old victorian doors.
Ohhhhh, maybe she sells these? Yes, that must be it, I say outloud.
While she is showing me the doors in her odd way, Mister goes to the front door, opens it and loudly says, in a very stern voice, DOVE, we're outta here....
That tone & that phrase means somethings up.
So, I turn around, chills all over me (leaving the woman standing amongst the doors), and bolt out.
"What did you see, what happened?" I ask. He doesn't answer.
As both of us are standing outside, she stands about 1 foot inside the front doorway, and points to a shed/house.
Of course, what do we do? We go peek. It is full of treasures.
But we decide it truly is time to get out of there.
I am scared and shakey and wobbly in the knees. We rush through the woods to our car.
It starts. We are safe.
So, we stop at a little cafe about 2 miles down the road, in the middle of nowhere. Everyone turns to look at us as we walk in.
We sit, order coffee and pie. I tell the waitress we were just up at the little blue house in the woods. Her eyebrows raise...
I tell her we went inside, and she puts the coffee put down on our table. Almost stunned.
I tell her we met a nice lady who lives there and she gave us a "tour."
She looks at me blankly. Picks up her coffee pot, and goes and whispers something to another waitresses.
They both stare at us.
We don't feel like eating our pie. We sip some coffee, pay and leave.
We sit silent in the car, until we are sure to be out of those woods and that village.
We never really know what happened. But we know it was all too strange.
We never spoke about it again.
This was a true story. This was not a dream...
