I can recall a few good ones that recurred during my childhood. Each one kind of spurred by the one before it, like some sort of episodic nightmare. This is what one of those dreams eventually became in my mind.
The dream starts with me sitting in the backseat of my mother's car, which at the time it was a late 80's model Honda Accord, painted a nice deep gray color, like the color of dusk. I sit in the backseat dawdling at the outside world as only a 7 year old can, being for lack of a better word a helpless visitor to the realm of adulthood. She was driving me to my daycare at the YMCA on Indian School, more or less a block or two away from my house, maybe a mile from my doorstep in total. It was a perfectly normal Albuquerque day when out of nowhere the ground bursts into a massive pit of fire, and a surge of lava bursts out of the ground like hot molten orange vomit. The ground bursts upward as a massive volcano erupts and destroys the entire area, the office buildings and the residential area around it. The car that we were in was thrown headlong into the fire pit by what I recall as unknown forces to this day. Thankfully though we were thrown close enough to escape the vehicle and the lava that was engulfing the thing.
I'm pretty sure I wake up after doing that, I don't recall anything after that but I know for certain that I escaped. No idea what it could have possibly meant but it was one of the scariest things a 7 or 8 year old can deal with. Which is probably why I still remember it.
