Footnote: I usually remember my dreams, and keep them to myself. But I've been getting suggestions that I should write them down, so here it goes.
I'm not sure if this one was a dream, it might have been a vision. My mind is... "gifted", and I don't want to sound like I'm bragging or something, but I tend to have precognitive dreams, visions, and flashes. And it literally runs in the family.

The weather was perfect, well, my kind of perfect. Though I was outside, it felt about room temperature, no humididty. It was about an hour after dawn, but it was hard to tell, dense fog was all around me, hindering my vision to twenty feet, and massive, grey clouds blanketed overhead, blocking out the sun. I was standing on a old dirt road, surrounded by a lush forest, I scanned around, not a soul in sight. Absolutely perfect. It was quiet like grave, and I was content. Finally, a dream with no dead, screaming faces, I thought to myself.
The silence and the slight breeze gave me goosebumps, I shut my eyes, savoring the moment, and sighed, relieved that I would get at least one night of actual sleep.
A minute passed, I felt the breeze quicken. I opened my eyes, instead of just standing on the road, I was now traveling down it at about five miles per hour. I looked down, I wasn't moving my feet, and this pace was at least a slow jog. It felt awkward, so I started to walk. Of course, the ground was moving faster than my pace allowed, but it was better than just standing like a ghost, and I couldn't seem to stop myself anyway.
Over the next minute, the speed quickened to ten miles an hour, and I was still walking. Where was I going? I had no intended destination. And even if I did, why was it so important? It annoyed me.
I sighed again, this time out of frustration. And not one second after I exhaled, I stopped.
I looked up, and I could just make out a fork in the road, no, a driveway, rather. It extended out of sight to the right of the main road.
Though annoyed, I wanted to find out what was going on. I turned to walk down the driveway, but, instead of my own pace, the awkward speed came in to play.
This time, I was more vigilent, I obviously had a destination now. I noticed that the fog was waning, but fortunately not too much. And the trees closed in, growing taller and closer spaced as the forest consumed me. A few heartbeats later, the driveway ended, and a clearing appeared. In the center, thirty feet from me, was a tiny, white house. I stared at it, curiously. This wasn't here before.
I heard a Raven caw, I looked in it's direction, surprised by the sudden break in silence. I couldn't find it. I jumped, and shifted my gaze back to the house. The front door creaked loudly open, and a short, dark haired man appeared. He seemed to be in his twenties, and he wore a teal polo and faded denim pants.
"Ah, 'bout time you got here. Come on in," he invited in a friendly voice.
I frowned in confusion, unsure. I think I was supposed to be here.
I hesitently stepped forward.