The Dream

I wake up screaming, someone is trying to calm me down. I open my eyes and they are above me. A familiar face turns to bones and blood. It rips my body open and fills my mind with the screams of an animal. Louder screams wake me up in my own bed. It is dark. I was dreaming. I go to walk down the hallway. I stop as I feel the presence of heat behind me. I spin around to find nothing. The hallway is quiet and dark and cold. I feel the heat again, this time in the form of breath on my arm. I turn around slowly, but am cut short by a strong force. It slams me against the wall. My face is in the wall as it shreds my back with teeth and claw. I yell for help through my impossible screaming only to find I am once again back in my bed. The clock on the wall is ticking in an otherwise silent room. I don’t have a clock.

The Desperation

I am restless. I have been awake for nearly eight hours. My eyes itch. My body aches. I tremble as I look out the window and see nothing. It doesn’t surprise me how quickly I adjust to the same scene every day…. it slowly fades to white. It fades more and more every hour. The desperate feeling in my gut fills every faded space for emotion. The desperation fills the evening with sadness. And sadness will turn into misery.

The Beauty

A spindly vortex of colors waves over head. The splendor of it leaves me weak in the knees and my eyes bejeweled with light. This rainbow weaves in and out of clouds that are equally stunning and bright. It curls inches in front of my face. I can almost taste the translucent color butter. The grass beneath me is pulsing and vibrant green. I look to the horizon and take place before a wondrous sky full of all shades imaginable, my body leaning with the earth. It tilts slowly and steadily, giving me enough time to grab hold of the glowing earth. I hold on as the plane beneath me is almost vertical. Wind whips the clouds pushing the woven rainbow around my body. It is warm and it fills me with ecstasy.

The Terror

I feel it breathing on me. Its hot breath vaporizes my neck hairs as its needle teeth just barely prick the sensitive skin. I know it will bite down if I move. I know it doesn’t have eyes, but a muscular body and large jaw. A jaw full of teeth, full of razor blades on my neck just waiting for me to move. I won’t move until it goes away. I am in a dark room, and the only light that shines comes from the crack in the door from where this creature entered. It found me all the way atop an extremely large bureau. It climbed up to wrap its strong mouth around my fragile neck. It intimidates me with its aggressive breathing. I can’t move.

The Past

When I was young, I dreamed every night. Most of these dreams would be nightmares, and not the luxurious night terrors some get and are granted to forget. No. These dreadful dreams burned scars in my tender, flexible brain meat. The scars deepened into sordid pock marks as my adult brain grew around the defective flesh. Crooked wormholes, that allow even more unfathomable evil to slip through to my vulnerable soul, make it possible for adult-sized monstrosities to occupy my dreaming mind. I cannot deny that they will not occur on a nightly basis. The young nightmares were simple. They mostly consisted of feelings of being chased with light paralysis. They developed into something horrendous.

The Known

A heaviness in my body makes it hard to get out of bed. I can feel the yellow warmth of the sunbeams hitting my sleep swollen face. Mornings are getting harder. It seems as though I have been somewhere else for years, and it is hard to account for that time as I begin to feel every muscle and bone awaken. I am of stiff body and mind. Trying to recollect the past dream’s events are clouded and daunting. There was a scene. A neon glaze in the sky illuminating larger than normal planets and celestials. The skies are always larger and more uniquely proportioned in my dreams than in waking life. As always with these sky scenes looms the possibility of catastrophe and doom. Perhaps the planets closeness warns of an impending collision, explosive and fatal. I know it was a dream. I am sitting up in my bed and the glow of the morning becomes snuffed out by incoming clouds. They are a saturated slate gray that boasts of stormy hours, but I know better. The anticipation of the storm in my mind dissipates as no such storm comes to fruition. I am sad.

The Provocation

The irritation overwhelms my nerves at times so greatly, that I cannot move. A fire spreads its feathery hot spikes through my veins, turning my blood into red molten lava as it spurts out of my pores. There is days of this torture with no relief. Red blood turns black as it cools in my veins, leaving my frame a skeleton of dark crust. An inexplicable calm wave sometimes follows these angry combustions, which I welcome but don’t trust. I know, looming underneath my translucent flesh, there are countless receptors waiting to be provoked by this consuming force of pain and hopelessness. I just have to wait for relief.

The Void

The Void

There is an emptying of life that happens to me on occasion, a sickness that spreads in my heart and hollows out my insides with sharp teeth and acid tongue. The end result is a shell. Inside is an icy darkness and infinitely collapses onto itself, further sucking any light that may have previously resided. It’s worse than fear. It is nothing. The void can consume you at anytime. Wherever you are, it is lurking in the synapses of your brain waiting for an opportunity. When it senses vulnerability it attacks with velocity, sucking you in its cold vacuum. Like a black hole, it forces you out into a different dimension as a different being. You can’t remember who you were as a person. There are only the senses left. The only memory of you as a human is a shadowy dream.

The Solemn Day

The last day I remember being awake was oppressive and dark. My mind was in one state. It was a prison of thoughts, with a running wheel to perpetuate the cycle of worry and a place to dump the waste in the corner. My days before that had been not unlike my last, dull and unsatisfying. With each hour saturated in passive energy, I could feel myself begin to slip into a slumber. My days began to stretch for shorter amounts of time, as my nightly slumber hours increased. These tricky slumbers could sometimes feel so lucid that my memories of dreams and reality streamed together in my consciousness. I closed my mind one solemn day. And for the last time I closed my eyes on one pivotal night, shutting out my old reality and waking up inside the vortex of my mind.

The Familiar Fragrance

A flowering tree in the distance illuminates the surrounding trees. It is so crooked and beautiful. The flowers have brilliant magenta petals and quiver in the gentle breeze. The air is warm, but the wind is cool on the skin. The closer I approach the tree, the more aware I am of a radical scent in the air. I bend my head close to one of the flowers; it seems to be emitting heat as well as fragrance from its golden center. Clouds gather on the horizon. This electricity fragrance confuses me. I quiver like the flowers as the wind forces onto me. Thunder booms in the distance. The meadow grasses rustle with excitement. The beautiful tree, unaware of the fast approaching storm, sits in its radiant splendor. It glows with a rare luminescence. There isn’t any substantial shelter for miles and miles. I am secluded. Rain drops splash on my scalp and exposed skin. They are warm with change. The sky is a dark slate grey. I run in the direction of the wind to gain momentum after I take one last glance at the bejeweled tree. The rain now soaks me to my core, and the thunder intimidates my mind. There is a small patch of woods now in my sight. I sprint towards them. Lightening strikes directly behind me! A clap of thunder nearly knocks me onto my knees, but I keep running.
I am inside the woods. The smell in here is earthy and pungent. The storm is less vicious under the shelter of the pines. Whatever wildlife inhabits this area are in secret hiding spaces. I am wondering where I am. I am not scared. The unusual fragrance of the flowers reminds me of something familiar. The roaring wind rips through the tops of the trees and sticks and pine cones pelt my body. Covering my head, I close my eyes and try to remember how I got here. . .