My Second Dream

A recurring nightmare of End Times torture.

My first dream

There was power lines running through the woods next to our house. The woods were dense; walking into the woods was like entering a green cave, with trilliums and violets and sweet Williams blooming. There were sour green gooseberries, blackberries, raspberries, and mulberries. We kids would hunt these up and eat them. I ate the violets; a neighbor Adventist lady taught us which plants were edible--so we would be ready for The End Times.

I drew a map of where the mulberry trees grew, and memorized where the fattest gooseberries grew.

My very very first dream? I dreamed I walked into the woods, under the power lines, tall green trees on both sides of me, and a bird sat on the power lines, talking to me. I don't remember what it said.

My second dream was recurring. At least two or three times a night, from about ages 6-8, I dreamed my family was crushed to death under a steam roller. These were full color dreams, with red blood predominating.

After my parents and siblings were killed in my dream, the steam roller-driving people came to see if I was dead. Just as they approached, I woke up.

Pretty sure the steamroller theme in particular came from seeing Who Framed Roger Rabbit’s steamroller scene at my non-Adventist Cool Aunt’s place. I was not permitted to watch untrue movies, except at Cool Auntie’s place. This kept me very sensitive to even cartoon violence. The steamroller scene terrified me.

Seventh-day Adventists teach that just before Jesus returns, there will be a Time of Trouble that all Adventists will endure. They teach that the Catholic Pope and U. S. president will politically join together, create a global law that all humans must go to church on Sunday or be killed.

Ellen White, the Adventist prophet, wrote that the Time of Trouble will be worse than anyone can imagine. So, naturally, I tried hard to imagine things worse than I could imagine.

There was a pastor at church, tall and slim with white hair, a touch of a European accent, very self-confident. He would preach sermons on End Times events, now whispering, now shouting, now demanding if we were SURE that we were saved.

I hid under the pew with fingers in my ears.

I was taught how I would be tortured during The Time of Trouble. How it would be worse for girls and women who had children. How any non-Adventist friends will enjoy turning us into authorities. How Catholic churches have hidden torture chambers to be used for torturing Adventists.

Shouty Pastor dated my Grandma. Then she dumped him, so he came over to our house on the regular. He'd tell us how awesome our Grandma was. He'd eat Mom's food, sometimes without asking, second and third helpings of pies and cake and cookies.

He once bought honey from my tween brother's bee hive. The whole house was sticky from honey extraction. Shouty Pastor insisted on spooning freshly extracted honey into a Mason jar by himself "just to help!", then demanded a discount "because he put it into the jar himself".

And nearly every Sabbath, Shouty Pastor would yell about future torture, lost salvation, being burned to death in hell, and I believed it.

And thus my second dream, when I was very young, was of my family being murdered via steam roller a la Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

During those nightmares, I'd wake and run into my parents' bedroom. There was always a big pile of unfolded clothes on the floor. I would burrow into that pile for warmth, and security of nearness to my parents, then fall asleep and dream horrors again.