Posted by: catsandfish | October 27, 2011

Things That Haunt My Dreams- Not For The Faint Of Heart

These are a few of my more disturbing recurring dreams. Happy Halloween Week.

I am in Vietnam trying to save a herd of children from the hell around us. I have shell shock from the bombs crashing, but there is one sound I can hear, the screams of a tortured child. I look up and he is there, the tall man thing made of pure shadow. On his back he caries a flame thrower and my herd of children run, but some are not fast enough. I see them burn, the flesh melting off of them. On top of the flame thrower in a basket sits the source of the only noise I can hear- a child of famine, so skinny, but with the bulge of it’s swollen belly sticking out, just screaming, wailing. Not understanding, but accepting. I run at him. I am not sure if I want to kill him or just save the child of famine. I burn.

I am climbing the mountain of stone. My bare hands and feet are bloody and I am cold. I reach a small landing and find the cave. They sit inside, the four of them. No eyes and no tongues, yet they see and speak. The Old Women. They sit around a fire, stitches that will never heal where their eyes and mouths used to be, their gray hair a tangled mass that falls over their bodies. In their dirty hands they hold knitting needles, and I see that they are knitting their own hair into a blanket to cover them. “She is here,” they laugh. “she has climbed all this way. What does she want?” They know what I want, I want to know everything they know. “She doesn’t even know the six.” They laugh some more, like mad women…then they come at me fast with the knitting needles. My eyes, my tongue, my belly.

I am in the forest where I grew up. It is night and I know I shouldn’t be outside. I am confused, afraid. My hair is long again and loose. The trees tear at my dress, the leaves under my bare feet are cold and slick. It must be fall. The air is cold, but I smell smoke from a wood fire, I must be near home. I hear a sick strangled growl emerge from the brush directly behind me. I know what it is. The Half Beast. I run, and it chases. It has two arms with very human hands tipped in razor sharp talons, filthy with blood and dirt. Attached by a pair of narrow muscular shoulders is it’s head, which looks very much like a cat’s skull with the eyes of a snake, solid black, but huge. two small pointed ears, small nostrils, and a lip less over sized grin of huge pointed fangs, constantly gnashing and gasping like a dying animal. Finally there is it’s body. It ends too early in a half healed tangle of intestines. It drags it’s self along with its arms, but fast, madly, because it must eat. I run. It chases.

I am in Willits, standing in the middle of Main Street under the empty Van Hotel. Something is very wrong. All the stores are closed, boarded up besides a few…there has been a war, the bomb has hit. There are bodies that no one has bothered to clean up. Worse than that, there has been poverty. Skinny stray animals and children hide in the alleys. I am wearing a peacock blue corset with matching skirt, shoes, and pillbox hat. They glitter with rhinestones and peacock feathers. I am very pleased to see my reflection as I pass the few non boarded window, all of it matches, and that seems to be very important to me for some reason. I walk down the street heading south. I see an open shop with hippie blankets for windows. I walk in and an old man is cooking something and smoking a pipe. Two other men are arguing over a broken metal statue of a dog, one of them has broken it and the other wants him to pay. I get out before they can involve me, which seems to be about to happen. There is trash and filth everywhere, and no matter how hard I try, it rubs off all over me- all over my pale hands and legs, my matching shoes and outfit. I run, angry that this place is tainting me. On the side of the road I find one of our old cars, a 1954 Lincoln Town Car, suicide doors, dark blue. The keys are inside. I get in and drive south until I see lights. The lights reflect off of the rhinestones I am wearing and suddenly I am clean and safe.

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