Chapter 4: Dream Interpretation Live
Desperate times, right? Fed up, I posted about this strange dream on a forum called Dream Interpretation Live, looking for help.
I was desperate for answers, or maybe just someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy. I typed up my story. Hit post. Then waited.
Comments poured in—faster than I could read.
Some of it was nonsense, but a few replies made me stop and think. People shared their own nightmares, offered advice, tossed out wild theories.
One user—PeachTreeDreamer—asked: “Did you drop something important into that well?”
Had I? I wasn’t sure. The question gave me pause.
Nope. I’ve never even seen that well, so how could I have dropped anything in?
It was just a dream, after all. I hit send, feeling a little silly.
That made my skin crawl. “There definitely is a well. Didn’t you say in your dream it was in Gary Quinn’s backyard?”
It was in my dream. But dreams aren’t real. I hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
I’d never been to his backyard. I couldn’t say for sure if there was a well.
I honestly couldn’t remember. I tried to remember every visit, every time I’d walked past that house. Had I ever seen a well? Or was my mind just filling in the blanks?
He sounded so sure. “There is. You just forgot or didn’t see it.”
It made me uneasy. He was so certain.
Who was this guy, anyway? His confidence unsettled me.
I didn’t expect a real answer. “So what should I do?”
Half-expecting something ridiculous, I asked anyway.
Yeah, right. “Go to that mountain town. Find the well. Your nightmare will end.”
It stuck with me, though. The answer sat there on the screen, simple and direct.
Perfect timing, I guess. I was about to graduate and needed to pick an internship, so I took his advice and volunteered to go to that mountain town.
I packed my bags. Told my family I’d landed a spot at the county office. Hit the road. It felt like fate—or maybe just an excuse to finally face my fears.













