小时候，奶奶总告诉我，梦里见到的路千万别多走，因为有些路再走一遍，灵魂就出不来了。记忆中，奶奶的眼神充满深意，仿佛她自己也见过那些“危险的梦路”。长大后，我渐渐忘了这番话，直到一个叫阿林的朋友，经历了那个噩梦般的夜晚，才让我们再次相信梦境真的不止是幻想那么简单。
阿林是个性格开朗的小伙子，常带着我们几个朋友四处游玩。那年秋天，他却神情憔悴、阴沉寡言，整日像是魂不守舍的样子。起初我们以为他遇到了什么事，直到他忍不住对我讲述了缠绕他的梦境，才知道他是被一个古怪的梦魇困住了。
那晚，他和家人回到老宅，听说要祭拜先祖。吃完晚饭后，阿林便早早睡下。刚入眠不久，他便做了一个奇异的梦。他梦见自己来到了一片苍茫的森林，四周笼罩在灰色的薄雾中，天空昏暗无星，似乎连月亮也被吞没了。他身后跟着几个熟悉的身影，影影绰绰中，他似乎认出是自己的父母和几个长辈。
他们在林间漫无目的地穿行着，阿林听见耳边的风声逐渐急促，空气中似乎有种不安的气息。周围的树影逐渐变得高大而模糊，好像成了沉默的巨人，矗立在黑暗中，仿佛注视着他们的一举一动。
走着走着，家人忽然停下了脚步，低声讨论着什么。阿林凑上前，发现大家都在看向一棵古老的大树，树干粗壮，有人高的树洞中，隐约露出一片红色的布角。阿林心中升起一丝好奇，悄悄向前走近了一些，想看清布角下藏着什么。然而，就在他凝神注视的瞬间，那布角下忽然出现了一双布满血丝的眼睛，正恶狠狠地盯着他。
他惊得连退几步，险些绊倒。就在他反应过来准备跑开时，那个眼睛的主人竟从树洞中缓缓钻出，露出了一张苍白而僵硬的面孔。那人穿着旧时的服饰，浑身散发出一股腐败的气息，眼神空洞，却带着一种诡异的微笑。他张开嘴，声音低沉沙哑，像是在咒骂，又像是呼唤阿林。
阿林吓得拔腿就跑，身后传来那人的脚步声和低声呢喃：“留下来……留下来……”声音越来越近，似乎就贴在他耳边，冰冷的气息让他的心脏几乎要跳出胸口。然而不管他怎么跑，四周的景物都不变，仿佛他一直在原地徘徊。
他跑得上气不接下气，突然间，面前豁然出现一片湖泊。湖水静谧得没有一丝涟漪，宛如一面巨大的黑镜，倒映着一片昏暗的天空。他的心情稍稍平静，低头看了看湖中，发现水中倒映的自己神情憔悴，仿佛失去了血色。但更可怕的是，他发现倒影的背后站着一个熟悉的身影，正是之前从树洞中爬出的那个人！
他还没来得及惊叫，那个倒影竟如鬼影般向他逼近。阿林觉得自己被一种无形的力量牵引着，脚步不由自主地朝湖水中移动。他极力挣扎，但身体似乎不再受他控制。就在他几乎触碰到湖面的瞬间，耳边传来一声熟悉的呼唤，那是奶奶的声音！
这声音像是一道无形的屏障，将他从湖水的牵引中拉了回来。阿林猛地睁开眼，发现自己躺在床上，满身冷汗，心脏跳动得剧烈无比。奶奶坐在他床边，神情复杂地看着他。
“梦见什么了？”奶奶缓缓地问。
阿林不知怎么回答，他只觉得那个梦境似乎不再只是梦，而是真正发生的事。可是他不敢告诉奶奶那个诡异的细节，只是模糊地应付了一句：“只是……一个可怕的梦。”
那天之后，阿林的精神越来越差，每晚入睡都会重复那个梦，仿佛他被困在了那片森林中，而那诡异的湖泊总是在梦境的尽头等待着他。梦中的那个怪人每次都会逼近他，呢喃着“留下来”，并露出那种诡异的微笑。
连续几日的折磨下，阿林甚至在白天也会偶然看到那片梦中的森林，听到耳边似有若无的呢喃声，令他心惊胆战。他尝试去求助村里的老辈人，大家都摇头叹息，似乎知道些什么，却又含糊其词，只反复告诉他：“梦中见到的路，千万别再走。”
阿林的恐惧与日俱增，终于决定寻找奶奶曾经提到过的一位老道士。经过一番辗转，阿林找到了那位道士。道士凝视着阿林的脸，沉默片刻，掏出一张符咒放在他手上，道：“把它放在枕下，睡觉时心中念三遍‘勿扰亡灵’，或许你能避开噩梦。”
那晚，阿林照道士的嘱咐，把符咒放在枕头下，闭上眼睛，心中默念着“勿扰亡灵”。一股淡淡的安宁感包围着他，他仿佛看到自己置身一片阳光明媚的田野，梦中的湖泊和森林不再出现。阿林心中松了口气，终于得以安睡。
然而好景不长，几天后他又梦到了那个地方。这次他试图按照道士所说的“回避梦境中的路径”，但却发现不论怎么走，前路总会回到那个湖泊。他看见湖水中再次浮现出那人的影像，仿佛在等待着他踏入湖中。
阿林开始绝望，觉得自己已经被命运锁住，挣脱无望。他试着大声呼喊，想唤醒自己，然而一切都是徒劳。就在湖水中的倒影向他逼近的瞬间，他忽然想起奶奶的话，急忙闭上眼睛，低声喊道：“梦中见路，不可再走！”
话音刚落，他听见耳边传来一阵模糊的风声，似乎有什么东西正在逐渐退去。他终于睁开眼睛，发现自己站在湖畔，而湖水开始泛起涟漪，那怪人露出诡异的笑容，渐渐隐没在波纹之中。
阿林深吸一口气，意识到自己这一次终于摆脱了梦魇的纠缠。但他的心中依然有一丝不安，梦境中的湖泊和怪人，仿佛并没有完全消失，而是潜伏在某个阴暗的角落，等待着他再次入眠。
自那之后，阿林时常感到后脖颈发冷，偶尔还能听到耳边传来细微的呢喃声，“留下来……”他的睡眠渐渐恢复，但他心中却始终存在一种无法驱散的阴影。
梦境究竟是什么？没人能说清，但阿林隐约明白，有些梦真的不只是梦。
When I was young, my grandmother often warned me, “If you ever see a path in your dreams, don’t keep following it. Some paths, once walked, can trap your soul forever.” Her eyes carried a heavy gaze, as though she had encountered such "dangerous dream paths" herself. As I grew older, I forgot her words—until a friend named Lin experienced a terrifying nightmare, which reminded us that perhaps dreams aren’t always as harmless as they seem.
Lin was a cheerful, lively guy, always inviting us on new adventures. But one autumn, he seemed hollow, haunted, like a shadow of himself. We thought he might be going through something rough, but it wasn’t until he finally opened up that we learned about the nightmare that had ensnared him.
One evening, after a family gathering, Lin went to bed early, tired but content. Soon after falling asleep, he found himself in a strange dream. In it, he wandered through a vast, misty forest, with no light but a muted gray haze filtering through the dense trees. His family trailed behind him—figures he recognized but could barely see.
As they moved deeper into the woods, the air thickened, and the faint wind in the trees turned into a foreboding silence. The trees grew taller, almost like silent giants, casting long shadows that seemed to follow their every move.
After walking for some time, his family stopped, muttering in low tones as they stared at an ancient tree with a hollow in its trunk. Lin noticed a scrap of red cloth poking out of the tree’s hollow, which made him curious. He leaned in, hoping to see what it was hiding. But as he approached, he saw something that froze him in his tracks—peering out from beneath the cloth was a pair of bloodshot eyes glaring back at him.
He gasped and stumbled backward, but before he could run, a figure emerged from the tree—a pale, rigid-faced man dressed in old-fashioned clothes. His vacant, lifeless eyes fixed on Lin with an eerie smile, and he began muttering in a gravelly voice, as though casting some dark curse or calling Lin’s name.
Terrified, Lin turned and ran, but the shadow of the man seemed to trail behind him, whispering, "Stay... stay…" The words grew louder, and it felt as though the man’s cold breath was brushing against his neck. No matter how fast he ran, the landscape never changed, and he felt like he was running in circles, forever trapped.
Finally, he stumbled upon a lake. The water was perfectly still, black and reflective, like a vast mirror showing nothing but a dark sky. He took a shaky breath, thinking he was safe, and glanced down at his reflection. But his relief was short-lived—behind his reflection, he saw the figure from the tree, his bloodshot eyes staring back.
Before he could scream, the reflection leaned closer, as though about to grab him. Lin felt an irresistible pull toward the lake’s surface, as if some force was dragging him in. He struggled, fighting with all his strength, but it was as though his body no longer belonged to him. At that moment, he heard a familiar voice—a soft whisper from his grandmother, calling his name.
The voice broke through the nightmare like a barrier, releasing him from the lake’s grasp. Lin woke up, gasping, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding as though he’d just escaped death. His grandmother sat by his bed, her face pale and serious.
"What did you dream of?” she asked softly.
Lin hesitated, unsure how to explain the horror he had just experienced. He stammered, “Just... a strange, scary dream.”
From that night on, he was haunted by the same nightmare every time he slept. In every dream, he would find himself back in that forest, drawn closer and closer to the lake, as the figure with the bloodshot eyes would whisper to him, "Stay... stay…” The eerie words echoed in his mind, and he felt as though the dream was creeping into his waking life, seeing the trees and hearing faint whispers even when awake.
In desperation, Lin sought out an old village mystic. After listening carefully, the mystic handed him a talisman and said, “Place this under your pillow and recite these words three times before sleep: ‘Do not disturb the dead.’ This may help you avoid that nightmare.”
That night, Lin did as he was told. With the talisman under his pillow, he whispered, “Do not disturb the dead” three times, and a warm calm washed over him. He drifted into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of sunny fields rather than haunted lakes. For the first time in weeks, he awoke feeling safe.
But after a few nights, he found himself back in the dark forest. He tried to avoid the path, as the mystic had advised, but somehow, no matter which way he turned, he ended up by the lake. This time, the bloodshot-eyed figure waited for him on the shore, its voice even louder, calling him to "stay.” As he approached the water’s edge, he felt as though he was powerless to resist.
In despair, Lin tried to shout, hoping to wake himself up. Just as the man from the lake reached out to him, Lin remembered his grandmother’s words and whispered, “If you see a path in a dream, don’t walk it again.”
At once, he felt a cold wind rush past, as though something were retreating. When he opened his eyes, he was standing alone by the lake, and the surface was rippling. The bloodshot-eyed figure was fading away, sinking into the depths with a grim, reluctant smile.
Lin woke with a start, his heart pounding. The nightmare seemed to have ended, but he still felt its shadow lingering. Whenever he closed his eyes, he sensed the faint presence of that lake and could almost hear the whisper, “Stay…”
He continued to sleep better after that, but deep down, he knew that the path he’d walked in his dreams still existed, waiting in some dark corner of his mind. Dreams, he realized, are often more than just dreams.