I had another strange dream last night involving a house. In this dream , Robert and I were living in a house that was very old. It was huge and very drab in color.
The house was not familiar to me; it was as if we had just moved in. I wasn't familiar with the area either. I have no idea where we were supposed to be, but it had the feel of some of the towns I've been to in Mexico.
Robert and I were volunteering at a local hospital, and we walked there each day across a field and down a town road about a block. There were usually kids playing soccer in the field when we walked by, and every day they would kick their soccer ball across the field to me, and every day I would kick it perfectly back to them.
One day, they kicked the ball a little high. I almost headed it back to them, but I had waited too late to try and it missed me. Robert told me not to worry; I'd be ready for it and head it next time.
We had to deal with a lot of wounds and injuries at the hospital where we were volunteering.
On the way home one day, Robert and I were discussing the house. Robert was telling me that it needed a lot of work to make it more livable. He told me that there was an electrician at the house at that time trying to fix the wiring since the lights were always turning on and off at random moments. I told him that I thought the house was haunted. I always had a bad feeling when we were in it.
When we got back to the house, we found the electrician on the floor. His breathing was very shallow and he had burns on his hands. We managed to wake him, and he started talking very rapidly in Spanish. I don't remember much Spanish anymore, but I understood the words "malo" and "casa." He was telling us that the house was bad.
I don't know what happened after that because I woke up.