The Dream is an alarming story for children about a young lady who has a bad dream wherein she meets a dreadful lady with dark hair and bruised eyes. It depends on a story related by Augustus Hare in his self-portrayal. A rendition of this story showed up in Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.
Lexi Morgan had a fantasy. She was strolling up a dim staircase and when she got to the top, she strolled into a room. The room cover was comprised of enormous squares that resembled trapdoors. What’s more, every one of the windows was attached closed with huge nails that stuck up out of the wood.
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In her fantasy, Lexi rested in the room, however amid the night, a lady with a pale face, bruised eyes and long dark hair slipped quietly into the room. She hung over the bed and murmured, “This is a shrewd spot. Flee while despite everything you can.” Then the dark haired lady snatched her arm. Lexi Morgan woke up with a shout and lay alert the remainder of the night, shuddering and shaking with dread.
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In the first part of the day she revealed to her landowner that she had chosen not to go to Kingston all things considered. “I can’t reveal to you why,” she stated, “however I can’t force myself to go there.”
“At that point for what reason don’t you go to Dorset?” the landowner inquired. “It’s a pretty town, and it isn’t excessively far.”
So Lexi Morgan went to Dorset. Somebody revealed to her she could discover a room in a house at the highest point of the slope. It was a wonderful looking house, and the proprietor there, a stout, protective lady, was pleasant as could be. “How about we take a gander at the room,” she said. “I figure you will like it.”
They strolled up a dull, cut staircase, similar to the one in Lexi’s fantasy. “In these old houses the staircases are all the equivalent,” Lexi thought. Be that as it may, when the landlord opened the way to the room, it was the room in her fantasy, with a similar rug that resembled trapdoors and similar windows attached with huge nails. “This is only a happenstance,” Lexi let herself know.
“How would you like it?” the landlord inquired.
“I don’t know,” Lexi said.
“All things considered, take as much time as necessary,” the landlord said. “I’ll raise some tea while you consider it.”
Lexi sat on the bed gazing at the trapdoors and the huge nails. Before long there was a thump on the entryway. “It’s the proprietor with tea,” she thought.
In any case, it wasn’t the landowner. It was the lady with pale face and the bruised eyes and long dark hair. Lexi Morgan got her things and fled.