My Dream Tried To Warn Me, And I Could Have Saved Him

Gina Clingan
7 min readAug 30, 2022
Photo by Zachary Kadolph on Unsplash

Dad laughed at me last night when I told him that I just wanted to spend my first day off in two weeks sleeping, at least until noon. Between our loudmouth neighbors and the arrogant sunlight intruding through my bedroom window that I couldn’t afford curtains for, I guess sleeping in really was a ridiculous expectation. The strange dream I just had probably didn’t help matters either, judging by my tank top that is now soaked in sweat. I wish I could remember what the dream had been about. I glance at the clock on my bedside table, and it’s only 7:30. Dad was right.

I really believed that if I picked up extra hours at the shop, I’d be able to save up enough money to get us out of this dump by summer. Again, Dad knew better. Of course, if he would put down the bottle and pick up a pen and start filling out that job application I picked up for him a few months ago, things might be different right now. Maybe we would actually be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment so he wouldn’t have to sleep in the living room anymore. Maybe we could afford a place with actual air conditioning and walls thick enough to filter out our obnoxious neighbors. We might even be able to afford a place where the neighbors actually have some kind of consideration for each other. To be honest, if we were ever fortunate enough to end up in a place as decent as any of that, Dad and I would most likely end up being the obnoxious neighbors.

With the way we’ve been fighting lately, we probably already are. At least Dad and I just yell at each other on occasion. We’ve never gotten into anything physical, unlike the people in the apartment next to us. Seems like by now they would have run out of dishes to break and furniture to throw at each other. Dad says that God always seems to give the loudest voices to the dumbest people because he knows that nobody would listen to them otherwise. This Sunday morning is no exception.

The neighbor’s bedroom is on the other side of the wall, right next to mine. Already, I can hear him screaming at her.

“Get up and make me some goddamn breakfast, you useless whore!”

I would never talk to my girlfriend that way.

Surprised by the silence that follows his disrespectful demand, I roll over and face the wall…

Gina Clingan

Instagram: @gina_clingan Some of my other writings can be found on thoughtcatalog