Thursday
This is a recurring dream that I've had several times over the past ten years.
No idea what it means.
Would I really want to?
It’s always the same dream:
It’s nighttime and I’m driving up the short gravel hill that leads to the backyard. Something doesn’t feel quite right because the lighting is all wrong.
The top of the driveway is dimly lit; an impossibility because the softly glowing porch lights are too far away and it’s a new moon.
When I see the house, a shiver runs down my spine, tiny fingers of ice dance on the nape of my neck; the house is in total darkness and all the windows are wide open.
The curtains are blowing freely outside the windows, diaphanous hands waving for help but there’s no wind to make them move.
I step out of my truck as the first wave of whispers caress my ears.
Thousands of voices speaking words, childish phrases, calls for help…possibly just calling. I run down the red brick walkway that gives way to the open backdoor which is as I knew it would be, waiting.
I’m afraid to go in but I do as my heart begins to pound in my ears.
I stand in the midst of the kitchen and listen to the house breathe in and out.
I call, ‘Hello!’ to no one in particular.
There’s no one here and somehow I know that.
No wife, no kids, no animals—just me.
But something is in the house with me and I can feel it.
Something, not someone.
I turn to my right and see a shadow move across the living room.
I run in the direction of the living room sure that there’s something in there; some dark memory from my past coming back to let me know it’s still alive and well.
I close all the windows and find myself staring at dancing shadows on the wall but the lights are still off, another odd impossibility. The shadows dance a macabre routine as I watch, helpless to stop it.
I hear a faint squeaking coming from one of the bedrooms upstairs.
Everyone should be sleeping, I say to myself.
No, I’m alone, remember?
I listen to the rhythm of the sound and envision something (or someone?) swinging from (a ceiling hook?)( a broken curtain rod?)
My mind won’t let me believe otherwise.
I try to turn and leave but instinct tells me to walk upstairs and see for myself the source of the noise. I reach the top of the stairs and find all the doors are locked.
It’s then that I hear a faint dripping sound and it’s growing louder.
The dream dissolves into dawning lucidity and the only telltale sign of it is the sound of raindrops plip-plopping on the air conditioner outside my window.
The dream is over…for now.
No warm and fuzzies here.
~m
ps. Check out Supernatural.
It's a haunting and fascinating website.
A great read after this post…
You have a gift with words. This is a truly a bizarre dream. Try sleeping with an axe maybe then you can bust through the locked doors.
Pure-
"Here's Johhny!"
~m
Yikes, that was a creepy dream. I think you should use it for a short story.
Carn-
I've already filed it away for future use.
Unfortunately, not a happy short. It can't end well…
I like it though.
~m
Here We Go A’Blogrolling, A’Blogrolling We Go
As we bid a fond farewell to our featured writer, Liz Strauss, here’s one last set of Successful-Blog-approved links.Over at california is a recipe for a black hole, a blogger named mojo shivers delivers thoughtful essays mixed with YouTube…
I'm still thinking about your dream (after reading about it last night) and wondering what's going on behind that door. I've never had recurring dreams, although I had a series of dreams with the same theme that scared the hell out of me.
BTW, thanks for the plug for Supernatural.
I'm still wondering too, Deb.
You're welcome for the plug.
It's a great site people SHOULD VISIT!
~m
Spooky entry! I found your blog via Liz Strauss, and I really like what I see. I had a lot of fun reading the quotes scrolling down the side of your blog–God bless good old Faulkner's orders to "read, read, read."
I'll keep reading.
Thanks for the visit, Jason. (and the link)
I love new visitors. Especially ones that leave comments…
later,
~m