Ever since I was young, maybe 9 or so, I kept having this dream. The only thing that really stood out from it was how real it felt. I could recall each detail, the weather, the time of day, the sun on my skin, the breeze, the crunch of the dirt. I could give each detail until they started blending together. The dream went like this: I was outside, always during the day. It was usually fall, so it wasn’t too cold out. I was standing, and in front of me was this old, barely-standing factory building. Broken windows, concrete walls, graffiti adorning it throughout. One of the walls was partially collapsed in. I could just make out the interior from my angle. It was mostly empty aside from some debris and odd bits of trash in piles, the interior was overgrown, with grass sprouting from the mostly pulverized concrete flooring. The dream always ended the same. I took one step forward, then I woke up.
This went on for awhile, until I was around 16, then I stopped having the dream. Then, I had a new one. The same decrepit factory, but now it was night, I wasn’t alone this time. I heard someone, a voice coming from inside the factory. I stepped forward, expecting to wake up, but instead, I got closer. I stepped forward again, and again, and soon I was at the collapsed wall. I could see him now, the source of the voice. A man, a bit older than me, his hair slicked back, squatted over on the factory floor, facing away from me. His hands were up to his face, as if he was covering his mouth. In front of him was this pile of debris and trash, I couldn’t really make it out from my angle. He was staring at it, weeping.
I had this dream for two more years, until around the time I turned 18. It stopped, one day, without a warning, without an explanation. I didn’t really think much of it, maybe some people just have reoccurring dreams, and mine are super weird and off-putting? I soon left for college, and soon after forgot about the dreams. I never told any friends or family about the dreams, mostly because they didn’t really seem to be much of a concern.
A bit into my first year of college, I was with some friends at a beach just outside of campus. We were drinking, someone was playing music, and I was far away from any thoughts about the dreams I had just years prior. One of us suggested we go check out this place he heard about, some popular drinking spot just a bit away. We unanimously agreed and 15 minutes later, we were there.
My blood ran cold when the car stopped. I’m sure you can guess where we were. I just stared, and the old, ran-down factory stared right back. One of my friends asked if I was alright, I said I was just tired. I got out and walked to the rest of the group. Every muscle in my body felt as if it was clenched, ready for anything. How the hell could this place exist. I had never been to the area until college. I couldn’t stop, though, I had to know why, why the dreams, why tonight. We walked toward the factory, it’s collapsed wall mocking me. Then the screams started. I was the third person to the front of the group, the three in front of me let out their own high, guttural screams as the got past the opening of the wall. I just stood there, they ran past me, others ran to the wall to see what was wrong, then they ran past me. What was odd, though, was that as they ran past me, they all looked directly at me, not as if they were urging me to run with them, but in the way someone in a horror movie runs past one zombie to escape the rest of the horde. I heard the car start, then I heard it drive away. I just stood there.
One step, I still didn’t wake up, two steps, three, soon I was at the wall. No weeping man this time. I stepped in. I was almost sick when I saw it. The pile of trash and debris, soaked with blood. The mass under it was unmistakable. Bodies. Human bodies, most covered in old sheets and rags, some face down, half uncovered, all topped with blood. I shook as I stepped forward, leaning down to lift a sheet. I don’t know why I looked, but I just had to, I needed to know.
I couldn’t help but smile as I saw what was underneath, as I remembered that my my hair was wet and slicked back from swimming at the beach, as I saw my own, contorted, bloodied face. I laughed, I laughed so hard it hurt. How could I forget, every time as well? That was the first time I made it as far as college, I may need somewhere else to leave my bodies.