Like most dreams
I can remember, I only recall everything from the second half
on. There was this large room, like the gymnasium
I used to attend Boy Scout
meetings in, and I was in a dome tent
facing toward the gymnasium entrance. Another similar tent was between me and the entrance, its door facing mine; my brother
were in it.
Why we were there, I don't know. But I was in a panic because Death was coming for me. No, not the skeletal one with a scythe, nor the cute perky goth chick from "The Sandman". When my death manifested itself, it was a roaring, burning vacuum behind my tent, like some kind of miniature B5 jumpgate lit afire.
Each time I knew it was coming, I resolved myself to accept it when it arrived. And each time it did (two or three times), I was in a terrified panic, holding on to the tent entrance as long as I could and farewell-ing to my siblings in front of me. Then the burning portal would disappear, and I was temporarily relieved.
I haven't had a nightmare in my life, at least not the scream-yourself-awake sort. But this may well be the closest to one I can ever remember. Very disconcerting.