The dawning sun sent an orange glow through my bedroom window, brightening the curtains. I’d opened my eyes on the day in good spirits, having had a dreamless night. My gratitude for that reprieve catapulted me into a familiar anxiety. For I can’t pass by my parents’ bedroom without thinking of the dreams, a nagging compulsion replacing the fear I felt passing that door. Although I doubt I would have had the courage to enter that room if it were not for the dream. Lying on my side taking in the sun’s warm glow I decided Mother and Father were sending me a message. In the first dream I was in the room, standing over their bed. But in the second dream I was in the hallway outside and the door was locked. It was obvious they wanted me to unlock that door. There could be no other explanation.
