Old Myspace Post

Monday, December 04, 2006 9:03 AM

My Nightmare...
Current mood: contemplative

Last night, I had a panic/anxiety attack. When I finally went to sleep (thanks), I had what I would deem as a nightmare (defined as: 1. a terrifying dream in which the dreamer experiences feelings of helplessness, extreme anxiety, sorrow, etc.) until further inspection of the dream. It is still completely clear in my mind..almost hauntingly so. On with the dream description I suppose...

I was in bed taking a nap in my old bedroom in Mississippi (this is where i actually was sleeping when the dream took place, except it is very much changed now), and it looked exactly as if it had been untouched since the day I moved out. I woke to lots of voices in the living room and kitchen. I distinctly heard my grandfather say "she won't help me". I roused, and walked into the mass of people standing in the doorway that leads from the kitchen to the living room. They were strangers for the most part, but I somehow knew they were family. I informed them sarcastically "Yea, I refuse to help him, I'm a cold hearted bitch". They chuckled at me, which I thought was odd. I turned to return to my bedroom when I saw my grandfather's girlfriend, Lela, sitting at the kitchen table. She smiled and said "Do you want to see something amazing?". I shrugged at her, and was going to continue on my way, when suddenly she cackled and rolled a wheelchair out of nowhere in front of me, there was someone sitting in it, and in all honesty I was terrified to look. I closed my eyes tight and knew she was turning the wheel chair around to face me. A woman cleared her throat, and my eyes snapped open. Lela exclaimed "doesn't she look JUST look your grandmother?". My knees buckled and I hit the floor in front of the wheelchair. I stared up at a woman who looked exactly like my grandmother who died 10 years ago. She had all the same handicaps, the same face, the same hair, the same voice when she managed to form words, the same throat clearing that meant pay attention. I couldn't breathe for a moment, and then the woman who looked like my grandmother laughed at me. I jumped to my feet and darted for my bedroom. Behind me, everyone gathered around the wheelchair and began to talk and laugh almost merrily.

I decided I had to tell Kathy what was going on. I hadn't told her about the dream I had when my grandmother died. My grandmother came to me in a dream and told me she was in hell. I had always kept that to myself, but now I was afraid I had died and gone to hell or the dead were walking the earth or who knows..the only thing I KNEW I must do was find my mom (Kathy) and tell her about this dire situation.

I rounded the corner to walk down the hall to my bedroom and it was suddenly darker and longer than it should be. Kathy was also in a wheelchair, which struck me as odd as well, in the hall. I ran to her, and she smiled and welcomed me with a hug. I threw my arms around her as though I hadn't seen her in years upon years, which once again struck an odd feeling in the back of my mind. I didn't understand what was going on, and I didn't comprehend why I felt a longing ease upon seeing her. I took a second glance at her face, and the flood of realization was torrential. I held in my gasp and, instead, looked at her puzzled and asked what she was doing here.

She seemed confused why I would ask her such a question. Kathy then told me she wa sick, and needed me to take care of her more. Even knowing what I knew, that my mother was very dead, I couldn't refuse her. I helped her into the bed, and she wanted to change her clothes. She insisted they were quite dirty. I helped her undress, and I noticed her body was strange. She had said she felt sick to her stomach, and now she seemed misshapen. Her stomach just didn't look right, it seemed larger or bloated. I told her I would check on it once I got her clean clothes out of the closet.

I returned to find her lying on the bed, watching tv, naked, still looking misshapen. Kathy smiled at me, as if she felt better and nothing was wrong. I felt compelled to tell her repeatedly that I love her. I did say "I love you." and she said "I love you too shanny, and I'm so sorry." I tried to tell her there was nothing to be sorry about, but she insisted on apologising. She never mentioned why she was apologetic. I put on rubber gloves, and told her I was going to press on her stomach to see if it still felt bad.

I pressed, she didn't respond, but her tummy gave way a bit more than it should when you press on someone. I kneeled by the bed to be eye level with her body, and I saw a large incision. Remembering all that we had been through with her surgery-even if she acted as though it never happened and she hadn't died, I had no second thoughts about checking it for staples and infection. The instant my finger tips touched the incision it spread and become more or less a gaping hole. I peered inside and found she was completely empty. No organs, no blood, nothing...just empty. Momentarily, I thought I was going to be sick, and then I was just fascinated. I stood, and looked down at her...I stared at Kathy...at my mother...stared at her knowing she was only superficial. Just skin cells and teeth and hair and eyes. I managed to smile at her, even knowing there was nothing more to her than what I could see.

Finally, her refusal to admit the obvious became maddening. I demanded she tell me why she had come back. Kathy looked at me puzzled, but I only got more adamant. Finally, I blurted out " Why the hell are you here? Why are you acting like the past few months never happened? Why are you pretending you aren't dead?". She sighed, and frowned at me, and a single tear fell down her face. She looked at me with the saddest expression imaginable, and spoke to me. Kathy said to me "Shannon, if we pretend it didn't happen, I can stay here forever, with you. Now you have ruined it, you have admitted the truth and I'm not sure I can stay." I began to cry, and scream that I was sorry. She told me to calm down, because she had something important to tell me. Kathy's expression changed to the one she used when handling police business..very somber and serious...she almost whispered "Shanny, they killed me. Whatever that doctor gave me killed me. Murder. It isn't acceptable, I can't accept it." I couldn't speak for a very long time.

When I finally figured it was time to say something, not just leave her lying there staring at me, I took a deep breath and told her she had to get dressed. I helped her into a wheelchair and rolled her into the bathroom. I kneeled in front of her, held back all of my tears, and told her I loved her. Then I said, "You can't stay. Go home." She frowned at me again, and I started apologising. She asked me why I was sorry, and I said "For what I'm about to do to you." I then started flat out begging her to "Go home." She nodded, and smiled at me. She said "that isn't something to be sorry for, you are doing the right thing, now help me leave." I hugged her, and she told me she was going and to never worry. When I pulled away, she said pieces of her had already gone, and now more were going and to help her. I realised what she meant at that point when I saw parts of her had decayed. I held my breath and began, for lack of a better description, peel her. Kathy and I, in the bathroom, peeled her body away. She smiled the entire time, like she was happy, as I touched her and she began to crumble. Dust, black sometimes, white other times, fell to the floor and disappeared. Eventually nothing was left but her nightgown I had just dressed her in. I threw it in the trash can under the sink. I sat in the wheelchair, and finally took a breath. The moment I inhaled I began to weep. Wail would be a better description..not cry...or weep...but to shed tears so loudly I was screaming. I wailed so long and so hard my shirt was soaking wet. I got up, trembling, returned to my room to change my clothes.

I woke up. Oddly enough,even though the dream was truly nightmarish to experience at first, I woke up more well rested than I have in weeks. If you have any thoughts whatsoever, please comment. It was, and still is, so haunting. I wish I knew more about dreams....



3 Comments

Setzer Valorin
How we wake up from a dream is strongly indicative of whether or not it was a nightmare. That you woke up feeling well rested instead of a tightness in your chest, or experiencing heavy breathing means that your mind was not in a state of fear through the dream.
The way you describe it all...it seems really beautiful to me. I wanted to talk to you about before work, but I'll call you when I get home, and we can talk about it. I love you, baby.

Questorr
Nunya Bizness
Closure...Yeah Probably not spelled correctly but as I haven't seen a school since '93 you'll have to forgive me 8oP. In any case. It SOUNDS like your mind was dealing with all your grief and you are ready to..well let go as it were. Sorry if that sounds inane but that was my take on it. *hugs*

Aftershock
Corey Owens
i had dreams about Kelly simliar to this a few years after she died.ill tell you about em when i talk to you next,not something i want to post up for everyone to see.