From: (J. Vera)
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
Subject: Re: Haunted Dream- Non-fiction Story
Date: 13 Jul 1995 03:35:47 GMT

Dear Deep:

I read with interest your story about the dream about your mother. I had a similar dream about my brother, about two years after he had died. He died at 16 in 1980 from an auto accident, and we were exceptionally close as brother and sister (I was ten years older and I was like his mother and close friend combined). I never got to see him in an open coffin, and used to have horrible dreams where I dug him up just to see him. These suddenly stopped after the dream I mentioned above. In this dream we were sitting under a tree together, and he was so close to me and so real I could smell his skin–talk about a realistic dream! He told me that I could stop worrying about him, he was fine, and that he loved me. When I woke up I felt like I had been with him again, and although I still grieve, it is not as bad as it was before this dream 13 years ago.

A scarier eposide that involved my brother happened the day after I returned with my husband and children to our home after my brother was buried. My husband (now ex) went to take a nap upstairs. He came down an hour later, as white as a sheet. He told me that he had been lying in bed, not sleeping, but thinking about how terrible it had been that my brother died.

All of a sudden he noticed a small white cloud up in the far corner of the bedroom. In this cloud my brother appeared, from his head to about his knees. He told my husband to tell me not to worry about him, that he was all right. Then he faded away. My husband was scared to death, but decided to tell me as he thought it would make me feel better. It didn’t, it scared the pants off of me. He quickly tried to make believe it didn’t happen, but I knew by the look on his face when he came down that it did. I finally got him to tell me again, and I asked him what Kenny was wearing. My husband told me that Kenny had on a pair of jeans and an orange colored t-shirt that said “Addidas”. Now Kenny lived a state away, and I saw him every few months, so neither of us knew his wardrobe except for the school clothes I had helped him pick out a few months before his death. I was in such a state after this story, I had trouble sleeping for days, afraid to close my eyes because Kenny might haunt me. I was irrational.

A few days later when my dad called, he started to tell me that he had received the few remnants of Kens clothes from the funeral director. He had been badly injured in the accident, so his clothes had to be cut off of him in the hospital while they were trying to save him. But his boots, belt and buckle, and jacket had been returned. My dad then proceeded to tell me that he and my mother went through Ken’s closet to find out what he had been wearing that night, what was missing, and they determined that it had been a pair of jeans and his orange Addidas t-Shirt. This is honestely true, I didn’t even ask him, he was relating one of the many sad stories of the duties one has to go through after someone dies. My dad talked to me because he knew how attached I was to Kenny, like was my child too. After he told me about Ken’s clothes, I was in more of a terrified state than before, and told my Dad what had happened. He said to me that obviously Kenny knew I was scared of ghosts and dead things, and if he did decide to come back to give me a message, he would give the message to someone close to me so I would not be scared out of my mind. This calmed me down when I realized he was probably right, and I never did see Ken, nor did anyone of us, until I saw him in that incredible dream two years later. Now I very seldom dream of him at all, even though I think of him every day.


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