#1
This dream came to me twice when I was a small boy. When exactly I'm not sure, I only know that it happened twice and I was still young enough to still be deathly afraid of the dark. In fact, fear of the dark seems to play an integral part in the dream.
I am in bed with the sheets pulled up and tucked tightly around my neck. Only my head is visible. The light is on, and I'm trying to fall asleep in the dream. There is a man who enters my room, he carries an axe (this is a common image in my dreams as a child). He is there to take my head, but sees that someone has already taken my body, and so he leaves (I have fooled him with the sheets). My room is painted red, as it is in reality, and in the far corner, where the ceiling meets the wall, a large head is floating. It is the head of an animal or a demon, perhaps both. I scream for my father to come, but nothing comes out of my mouth. The head laughs at me and teases me as it gets bigger and more menacing. I continue to yell for help, but there is no sound. At this time I am sure it is a demon, maybe even the devil himself. As soon as I realize this the head screams. There is a rush of feet down the stairs just outside of my room. Somehow, I am still in bed (to leave it would bring back the axeman who is looking from room to room, and occasionally peering back into my room) while I am simultaneously looking down the stairs at the rest of my family--father, mother, one brother, sister, and grandmother--going out onto the front porch. My oldest brother is missing. They are all wearing very wide smiles. I return to the room and I run to the window. Outside is a crowd of people. It feels as if everyone in the world is outside in the street. They are dancing and singing, and their faces are painted. They begin to morph into stereotypical portrayals of early cinematic tribal natives--imagine the island people in King Kong. They are carrying a throne above their heads. On it sits my oldest brother. He appears to be very frightened. He sees me in the window and calls to me, but I can't hear him. I turn back to the head in my room. It is gone. I look back toward the street, and the crowd, who now seem to be worshipping my brother, are putting a large mask on my brother's head that appears to be the same demon-face previously hovering in my room. I see my family proudly looking on the whole scene. The dream ususally ends here with sound finally coming from my mouth, desparately trying to explain the situation to my family, while they continue to look away smiling.