INTRO:

I’ll start out upfront that I do not know the true integrations of Japanese cultures and ghosts. The dream I had was a subconscious mind interpretation of a myriad of different influences within my life that resulted in the dream to follow. 

Historically dreams in Ancient Egypt were considered prophetic visions. Visions that are meant to assist in healing, cures for illness, or to help guide a major decision of where to wage war. Ancient Egyptians were so invested in dream interpretation that a “book of dreams” was discovered in a library for Scribe Kenhirkhopeshef’s (ken-heer-koh-pes-hefs). I honestly could be mispronouncing that.

This is the same scribe whom was in charge of keeping a work journal for the tomb building of the Great Ramses. He recorded how deep digging was achieved, the number of wicks used for candlelight during work. We know he oversaw the building on a day to day basis because a niche of rock-cut above the tomb. And it had the scratched words into the rock “Sitting place of the scribe”  I may be oversimplifying this in my amusement, but he had a day job very similar to my own of crunching numbers and recording daily operations, and at night wrote about other things that interested him. Although religious or mysterious beliefs intermixing with everyday life was not uncommon during this era. He even made sure to write down differentiating dreams of bad in and a good dream in different ink colors. Good dreams were written in black. The bad were written down in bright red ink.

Some of the dream passages he wrote may seem very odd to a modern audience. Dreams like “If you see yourself eating crocodile flesh, this is a good dream.” You’re acting as an officious leader among your people. The other odd one I found was “If a man sees himself in a mirror, this is bad. It means a new life.”

There are many other examples of history that tie into dream interpretations, and as we explore more episodes of dreams and their outcomes, or worse, cliff hangers, we will seek out their meanings together.

I’m Tasha Wheelhouse and this is Copper Shock.

Warning on this story, while projected as a nightmare and not real. There are subject matters within the story dealing with self-harm, and children’s deaths.

BODY:

I’ll tell this story in the way as though I’d experienced it in real life. Mostly because it had a profound impact on me. Sounds weird right? But so do most nightmares when told out loud.

I had applied to go to study abroad in Japan. I was very excited to go. The city I was sent too was more of a mini-city. Not a village exactly, it had more industrialized buildings, and streets but the name conveyed an unknown town closer to the countryside in Japan. 

I remember standing outside of a five-story high building that had a yard with a chain link fence. The front of the building was cement with long rectangular windows in the front. You couldn’t quite see inside. The wall was tinted a brownish-orange color that stood in contrast to the gray sky above it. Ominous is a bit cliche of a word, but what other logic befalls us when describing a nightmare of disjointed scenes from memory. An experience solely taking place away from the rest of reality.

My classes would be taught totally in English and the classmates I shared were also from America. We had a very small pool of about 15 other students with me sitting in this room waiting to start. I sat down for my first lesson slumping my backpack on the floor. The professor walked in and greeted us. I remember a few details about him. He was tall and stately with a slightly round mid-section.