A Dream

I had a dream the other night, a few nights ago I think. Though I do not know if it bears any significance, I feel I should write it down, for every once in a while I have dreams of darkness, as I like to call them. It was pretty sudden, and it was not long after I had fallen asleep. I found myself blown down by a rushing wind, and I was in the house I grew up in, in the room that my brother and I shared. I was in the middle of the room on the floor, next to my dresser. Now that I think on it, it is astonishing that the room in my dream is just as I remember it in real life, when most of my dreams distort a lot of the details. There was malice in the wind that pushed me down, and I couldn't move and I could barely speak, and I could feel the darkness around me. As usually happens when I feel this, a kind of righteous anger brought my spirit awake, or at least that is what it seems happened, for I have no way of really defining it. I grunted through the dark wind that kept my mouth shut, but managed to mumble angrily, "Get out!" The darkness receded under my bed and back by the wall that I was facing and I saw a black image like a cat rush under my bed. But it did not leave. I stuggled to force commands out of my mouth, telling it to leave in the name of Jesus. When I finally managed to do so, for it took some time, I woke up, shaken, and it still took some effort of will to move my limbs around in my bed. That was it. I don't know if it means anything. If it was really a spiritual attack, I don't know why it was done, nor if it accomplished anything for anyone involved. If it was just a dream, I still don't know what brought it on. But I needed to write it down. So here it is. It was only about an hour since I had first went to sleep, and I thought that strange at the time, too.