Is it true that when you die in your dreams you die in real life?
Yes, it's true. And how do I know? Because I was that girl.
Wait. I've missed a bit.
Hello everybody, my name is David. I like counting things and I have six toes on each foot. When I count things I use my feet because I can get to higher digits using my extra toes instead of using the fingers and thumbs on my hands. But that's enough about me. Well, it's almost enough, because I actually want to tell you about a scary dream I had that may or may not have ended in my death. Oh, and forget what I mentioned about my toes. It's not going to come up again and I'm quite sensitive about it.
"Goodnight, Barbara. I'm going to sleep now." I said one evening to my wife, Barbara.
"Goodnight, David. Be careful not to dream won't you, because I've heard that if you die in your dreams then you also die in real life and those are your only two options at not being dead."
"That sounds like absolute nonsense Barbara. It sounds like utter trash." I said to calm my wife, but truth be told, her words had caused an intense, ice like fear to grip the very core of my being.
If I died in my dreams, I would be fucked.
I lay my head down on my pillow the same way I did every night and eventually I drifted off into the dream realm. There, just like always, I was the spoon being used to eat the head of ice-cream Barbara Streisand. My dreams were categorically erotic, but this time, once ice-cream Barbara Streisand had been eaten, rather than waking up in a pool of my own filth, I was still a spoon. I looked up to see my daughter Janey putting me face down into the dishwasher.
"No Janey! Noo. I'll drown in the dishwasher and if I die in my dream I'll die out of my dream too!"
Janey simply replied "Knife and fork. Spoon to the moon."
Not thinking, I whipped upwards and slashed Janey's throat open and spooned out both of her eyes.
This is when I woke up with a sudden jolt.
"Thank god!" I said aloud. "I almost died in my dream."
Barbara was now sleeping in the bed beside me. I went to check on Janey in her room, still disturbed from what had happened.
"Sorry for slashing your throat open in my dream, Janey" I said as I slowly pushed open the bedroom door.
But, to my horror, I noticed that Janey wasn't sleeping, she was in fact dead! A giant spoon had been rammed straight through her head.
Ohhhh, shit.
It wasn't my dream. It was Janey's dream. That's why she had the massive spoon stuck through her head. Oh fuck.
So yeah, don't die in your dreams. Don't die when you're awake either because it works both ways.
Credited to koalazeus
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