Back to Dreams

When I was very young, the scariest thing I could imagine was losing my mom or dad. I would pray every night that they would live forever. I probably even promised to always be good. That's what kids do!

When I was about twelve, I began having dreams/nightmares in which I was flying in a dark mist. I knew my brother was dead in the dream and I would cry and cry and refuse to believe it. I was flying frantically back and forth in the dark mist to find him and bring him home. I could feel my parents sadness, it was a terrible dream. I would wake covered in perspiration and short of breath from sobbing. My pillow would literally be wet from my crying and I would sneak to my brother's room to make sure he was okay.

I had this dream for years. I never told anyone because I was afraid telling it would make it come true. I even had this dream after I grew up and was married with children of my own. I prayed hard for my brother. Every day that he went to work, every time he was going out of town or some place new I would ask God to protect him.

My brother and I were very close growing up. We weren't just brother and sister, we were best friends. I would protect him and watch over him and he would do the same for me.

I was always afraid that the military would be the cause of my dream coming true. He had a big heart and he was too willing to play the hero. He was a big guy, 6' 5" tall with a heart and spirit to match. When he wasn't interested in a military pursuit and no wars happened when he was nearing eighteen, I was so relieved.

When he reached the age of 22, I started having the dream every couple of weeks, then several times a week, finally every night. I talked to him and begged him to be careful. He scoffed and brushed off my concerns. It was just his over-protective big sister. I got mad at him and finally told him about my dream and again begged him to be very careful.

He didn't listen. Two weeks later, he was gone. He died driving two friends on a foggy, wet night because they were too intoxicated to drive. He didn't want to be there, but he didn't want anything to happen to them. One of them made it, my brother did not.

After his death, I saw the accident over and over again when I closed my eyes. I had never seen the road he was on or the boys he was with, but I saw everything as if I was there with him. I don't know if it was my brother trying to show me what happened or not.

If it was, then the boy that survived is the one that caused the accident. He jerked the steering wheel from my brother's hand. I saw it. The boy laughed because he was very intoxicated. My brother was very angry and tried without success to bring his truck back under control.

I can't prove anything from a vision. I couldn't stop anything from a dream. I know I miss him terribly. I miss all the years I should have had with him. I miss the sister-in-law I should have had and the nieces and nephews that would have been like my own children.

I've never had another premonition of this kind and neither do I want one because it did absolutely no good. If the boy that survived the accident caused it, my only hope is that he wasn't too intoxicated to remember what he caused. I hope it haunts him every day of his life.