I used to be able to remember my dreams. Then sometime in high-school, I played that game where you bend over and hyper-ventilate, then stand up really quick and one of your friends presses on your chest and you pass out. It feels like you've been asleep for days when in all acuality, it's only been like 8 seconds. Now I rarely remember my dreams longer than it takes to brush my teeth in the morning.
One of the last dreams I remember vividly was when my brothers and I were playing in the attic. My littlest brother was deathly afraid of the water and would never go past wading depth at the beach.
In the attic, we had that faux wood paneling that makes it look even darker. In the middle of the floor protruded the top of a well. Curiously it was missing the bucket and pulley system to raise and lower said bucket. For the dream reason, though, I did not question why we had a well in the attic, nor the reason it was filled nearly to the top with water.
What did suprise me was the fact that my little brother felt the need to go swimming in it. Knowing he did not like to swim I run to the side just in time to see him take his last breath and sink under. I could still see him as he went down so I plunged my hand in to grab his, and I held it trying to pull him up for a little bit. (His hand didn't immediately slip out.) Finally he slipped away and I couldn't see him anymore.
I then turned to look at my other brother who only stood there wide-eyed in disbelief. I could only think about what I was going to tell my mom, I woke up when he tore off down the stairs.