DREAM ONE, before I leave Illinois: Monday night about midnight, he shows up in my dream town. Not a place I recognize, but I am supposed to be there. I am in a grocery store and something sets off my internal alarm. Nothing specific, no noise, no drama. The hair stands up on the back of my neck and I have a feeling of being watched, a feeling of dread, of terror. I quickly finish picking out my groceries and check out. I keep my eyes open, search shadows, see nothing out of the ordinary. I just feel with gut wrenching certainty that I am about to be undone. Walk out of the store to my dream car, get in, drive to my dream house (?). It is a white, clapboard, cottage-y type place. Small yard, similar homes on either side, both dark. Get chills and real fear, lousy in my gut. Feeling I am IN FOR IT. Decide I am being silly. Right? Look around, study the darkness, see nothing. Force myself to get out of the car, walk determinedly to the door, open it, close it behind me. Should I lock it? What if he is inside the house, not outside? No, don't lock it. What if that is his thinking, that I won't lock it and he can let himself in quietly behind me? Fuck. Lock it. Turn on lights. ALL lights. Unpack groceries. Look in every room, every closet, heart in my throat. Think about calling the police... to tell them no one is in my house but I feel funny?? The basement. The basement door is closed and I cannot go to bed until it has been opened and I cannot do it. Call 911 and say, "I think there is someone in my house. I am home alone, and there is someone in my house. Please help me." I hang up before they can ask questions and determine I am making it all up.
The police arrive quickly, quietly. Blue lights are flashing, there are no sirens. I meet them at the door, heart still pounding, sure they will think I am crazy. Tell them my mad story and ask them to look upstairs and down. I follow them upstairs, the search seems halfhearted to me. They poke around; open the shower curtain halfway, cursory look in closets, no under the bed at all! I am standing back in a hallway watching, not feeling any better, don't want them to leave me here.
"The basement, please?" I ask. They roll their eyes, but open the door and go down the stairs. I say I will turn on the lights, they shush me. They do down in the dark, flashlights rolling back and forth, cones of yellow not enough to find this evil hiding in the corner. I hear them talking and wonder if they are letting the Bad Man in the basement know that I am out of my mind. They mess around down there (I have never been in my dream basement) and come back up and tell me it is all clear, that I can relax. I say thank you, but my stomach drops and I know I am in trouble when they leave. I see them to the front door and then turn around. I walk back to the basement door, reach in and turn on the damn light. Close the door, jam a chair under the knob. Check all the doors, all the windows, all are locked. I am nuts, shaking, sure I am dead.
I go upstairs, change into PJs real fast and get into bed. I keep my lamp on bright, try to read a light story. Wonder why I don't have a cat in this house? Finally, exhaustion sets in and there has not been a sound so I surrender to sleep. A bit later, I awaken sure in the knowledge there is a Bad Man in my room. And there is. I cannot talk, scream, move, breathe, anything. But I see him in the shadows, menacing, threatening me by being there, know he is glaring at me, filled with hatred only the psychotic enjoys. I cannot move, but tears start running from the outer corners of my eyes, down the sides of my face into my hair where they get caught.
As suddenly as he appeared, he is gone. No sound, no footsteps, no doors opening or closing. Just a change in the air and I can move and breathe and sit up. My pulse must be 170 and my chest heaves with each breath like my lungs are catching up and I might live after all. I get up and look out the window by peeling up a side of the shade, just a tiny hair, not enough to be seen, careful. In the pool of the streetlight below I see him and he is looking up at me and smiling. He is wearing a tank top, dark jeans, and has an orange Mohawk. He is middle aged, fit, wide shoulders and narrow waist, vibrates meanness. He has several silver hoop earrings shining, too many for one ear, it's weird. He is smiling up at me and I see his mouth move "I will be back." It looks like he is laughing, he smiles again, turns, fades away into the dark.
I wake up I cannot talk, scream, move, breathe, anything. I am at home in my own bed, two cats, John is beside me and I know it was a dream. After an hour or so I talk myself down to a normal pulse rate. Finally drift off to sleep.
He is back within the hour....
No comments:
Post a Comment