From a letter, about an experience of mine

Dear Reader,
     Last night I had a repeated dream. It is a nightmare about a house not too far from where I live that has had murders and suicides, and even more terrible things that had occurred in the basement. The problem with this house is that I'm almost convinced it is real even though I completely forgot where exactly its located. The front of the home has a yard that is a normal height for a yard with a hill. The paths that lead into the house drop down three feet below the grass and are cement paths. They branch out and make a window shape. As soon as you enter this shape the world starts transforming and your brain starts becoming infected. The sky tints red. You hear roars and screams at random intervals and the lit portion of the moon appears to be the color of smoldering lava. If you overstay your welcome, you will go insane and likely die. I also think my brother is familiar with this dream because you can only have it if you have been to the house. In this particular version of this dream, I was walking with Alex and my new friend Heather. She obliviously tries to cut through the yard and no matter how much i preached about my bravery and courage to you before, I stayed put. Alex went in and pulled her out and we ran to my house to wait out the infection to our minds. After waking up I figure this house doesn't exist but I also feel like my brother is the only reason I know because he used to play around it when these things first started happening at it. I've had this dream at least three times while I've been in high school and it only happens when I sleep in.
     Now I'll tell you the original story I thought that my brother taught me long ago about this house. It has always looked exactly how I described, the front yard being the most important. One outside entrance to the basement is a barred with a gate while the normal door inside is missing. My brother originally used to play with his friends at this house and mess around. Ten years ago when my brother was fifteen, they were playing at the house and something happened to a girl, one of his friends, and they went missing inside the house and never came out. She was apparently killed, and I don't know who this friend was. I was just always told never to go near the house and never to ask anything about the house. I was never told the details because I was only eight when this first happened. Ever since then, walking near or sometimes around the house while thinking anything of it starts up the infection in your mind. It has this sense of knowing when you think of it, when I was younger I used to find it hard to write or mention anything about it to anyone as its infection would start in my mind as soon as I started thinking about it.
     Sincerely, Bard

I might post more about it if I rediscover the location of this house, but as of right now, I feel like it has disappeared from my world and has only been a figment of my imagination.