The Dream of Murder, Justice and Psychology

Last night, I had one of the most vivid dreams of my life — a dream so layered it felt like a thriller movie, with twists, betrayals, and even a dream within a dream.

It started simply. I was sitting with a friend in an open room, casually talking. Suddenly, a group of people appeared, carrying a corpse. They scolded me — “Why didn’t you attend the cremation? Why weren’t you at the morning gathering?”

Confused, I began guessing which friend might have died. None of my guesses were right. Then came the shocking truth: Aarav — one of my good friends — was gone. I couldn’t believe it.

And then something strange happened. I “woke up” — but still inside the dream. It became a dream within a dream. This time, I wasn’t just mourning. I was investigating.

I discovered the truth: two of my friends, Karan and Raghav, had planned to kill Ishaan out of jealousy, because he was good at studies and other things. But when Aarav tried to defend him, they killed Aarav instead. Ishaan barely survived and was hospitalized.

I couldn’t accept it. So I tried to change things. I went back to class before it all happened, warned Aarav to stay in his room, and confronted Raghav directly. I tried to guilt him, to stop him. But while I was buying time, Karan attacked. Ishaan escaped, Aarav fought back, and chaos broke out.

I rushed in at the last moment, saved Aarav from being stabbed, and recorded everything with a microphone I had planted. In the end, they were exposed. We were wounded, exhausted, but somehow laughing at how insane it all was.

When I finally woke up — for real this time — the dream stayed with me.

This is not the first time I’ve had such a dream. Sometimes, I see myself hunting down people who are rotten to society — those who hurt others, spread cruelty, or destroy lives. In those dreams, I don’t just fight them, I make them suffer the way they made others suffer, actually more.

Reflection

I think dreams like this aren’t random. They reveal parts of us we rarely admit.

This dream revealed my fascination with a harsher kind of justice — the kind that doesn’t forgive those who destroy others’ lives. In my heart, I know I’d never be the “clean” hero. If I had to choose, I’d rather be the villain to villains, and a hero to the good.

Maybe that’s why my subconscious writes stories for me at night. Stories where I’m not just a witness, but an investigator, protector, and sometimes even an executioner of justice.

Closing Thought

Perhaps our dreams know us better than we do — the hero, the villain, and everything in between. And after all, there is a strange satisfaction in imagining evil being destroyed. Because some crimes are so hideous, the only true justice is to strip them of every breath, every limb, every chance — the instant they commit it, they lose the right to walk this earth.