My Two Past Lives

From: 
Story type: Past Life Experience
Location: I was asleep
Source: Form Submission
Date submitted: Mon Jul 18 07:00:07 2011

I've read quite a bit about past lives and believe that it's possible for reincarnation to exist. To be clear, I am an 18 year old woman who was born in Kansas and currently lives in California. Both times I had past life memories, they were in the forms of dreams but I know they weren't normal dreams because of the vividness. Usually I can't remember much after I wake up, but with these dreams, everything was bright and detailed and I could feel my silk dress or smell the wheat...It was amazing.

The first dream was when I was about 15. It was in first person point of view and I was running through a wheat field - maybe 14 years old. I was white with blonde braids and wearing a plain dress. As I ran I could feel the soil between my toes and feel the wheat whipping across my legs. My breath was heavy as the sun beat down on my back when I heard a name being called (the only thing I can't remember) so I stopped and turned around. Against the horizon were multiple wood structures and a middle aged, brown haired woman beckoning to me. Then I woke up, panting. With a little bit of research, I realized that it must have taken place in America during the colonial times around the early to mid- 1700's.

I had the second dream almost a year ago and it was much scarier than the first. Again, it was in first person, but I was maybe 12 with medium skin and frizzy hair. It starts in a dark room and I'm huddled in the corner, crying and shielding a girl maybe 6 years old who is most likely my sister. I can feel a rivulet of sweat slide down my back and my sister's hair as I smooth it, trying to calm her down. The room reeks of wealth with dark wood flooring, moulding, and panneling. But on the other side of the door, someone is banging on it and yelling. I'm thinking over and over that I have to protect my sister from our step dad, that it can't happen again, when the door bursts open and a black man stumbles in, holding a bottle of scotch and glaring at me. He walks over, rips me away from my sister (Layla?) and pushes me across the room where I hit my head and black out. When I come to, he's getting up off my sister and zipping his pants as she tries not to cry. He grins at me and stumbles out of the room. Next thing I know, I'm sitting on a bench with Layla beside me in a courtroom. Some white lady is talking to what seems to be the judge and I'm trying to act calm even though my step dad is only a few feet away. I look down at my dress and smooth the dark green silk and then hold Layla's hand for support. I glance over at my step dad and he turns around and gives my that seedy smirk that chills me to the very bone.

When I woke up I researched the fashion that I witnessed on my "step dad," "sister," attorney in the courtroom, and myself, and came to the conclusion that it must be somewhere around the 1960's. Also, I've always had a pull toward ancient egypt, 1700's France, and the 1920's America without really knowing why, but I haven't had any dreams that prove I lived in those times.