The Black and White Village

I had a lot of weird dreams when I was little, but one, in particular, I remember very clearly. I'm not entirely sure if it was a dream or not, it seemed so real. Then again, doesn't every dream seem like that to a three-year-old? Now, I know what you're thinking, you can't remember anything before you were three, especially not dreams. I'm here to tell you that theory is a lie. Any dream you can't categorize, can't remember when you dreamt it, but remember it in full detail, was probably dreamt up or imagined when you were three or younger. I want you to know this story is entirely true. Not joking. I know most of the stuff on here is made up or a legend one can't prove, but this pasta in particular, actually happened.

Like I said, I was about three or so when it happened. I remember waking up, realizing I was in a dream, but I couldn't make anything of it. All I could see was a village, entirely black and white. The houses were these hut sort-of things, like I guess the Native Americans lived in. The village was full of black and white doctors. The kind of doctors that walked around in the time of the bubonic plague. It was terrifying. Being three and having no idea what the bubonic plague was, the masks they wore back then, can you imagine the terror running through my mind? There were small children wearing the masks and walking around in robes. As were men and women. They were all just walking around, minding their business like they had no idea I was there. There was no sound whatsoever...until that one popped up, but we'll get to that in a minute. The villagers were shopping and other stuff. The only thing I remember they could shop from though was a fruit stand. Or maybe they were in the middle of a farmer's market. I don't know.

Eventually, a few of them started to notice me. One looked over at me and that started a chain of events. I can't remember all that happened, but it was terrifying. The last I remember was a man standing right in front of me and laughing. This evil maniacal laughter that was most terrifying sound a three-year-old could hear. Then I woke up. It was morning of course. I didn't wake up in the middle of the night. I remember seeing my dad ironing his clothes, my mom somewhere in the room, and my dog, Nakita, running under the bed. Being the curious toddler I was, I decided to follow her. I didn't go under the bed of course, that was too scary. I might've had I not seen the eyes. The glowing red, traumatizing eyes that I will never be able to get out of my head. The same maniacal laughter followed suit and I don't remember anything after that point.

It was quite strange. I won't forget it. I don't think I will ever be able to. The laughter, the face, and the eyes are burned into my memory, never to leave. I'm not sure why I remember it so clearly. Never have been able to remember something so clearly, not even what I had for dinner. I never had a memory so clear. The creepy thing is it was a dream, right? A dream that felt all too real. If it even was a dream.