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Nightscapes
Bolting upright in my bed, I vomited out another scream. My lower face caked with dried crimson dust from a once bloody nose, giving off a putrid odor and a coppery taste on the back of my tongue. My hands clutched at my throat as if squeezing my windpipe would extract more air to breathe. I can only guess my eyes were wild with fear, as I felt the rush of the same coarse through my semi-rigid body.
I had been unable to refrain from those tortured nightmares which now haunted me with some regularity. It was always the same again and again. I would start down a path of peace, of flowers and then, suddenly, it was as if time had torn a doorway through the end of that path. From this doorway stepped a gnarling beast. It was covered head to toe in spiny scales and yet from beneath each layer hair as well protruded, more like a fur though then true hair. The beast gave off a stench so vile that I had to cover my mouth and nose to keep from gagging. On it's hands were long and gangly fingers, more bony than anything else. Each tipped with a long and sharp nail from which a fouler substance seemed to drip. It's throaty and aspiring grunts drew from deep within the beast and made the fine hairs on my neck stand on end. It reached for me... suddenly I was frozen there in place. I felt as though my legs became solid pillars of rock and my arms hung at my sides numb and useless. I opened my mouth to scream and all I could vomit out was a whimper. Sweat began to bead up on my brow and chest. Chills crept thru me and I was again gasping for breathable air. It grabbed me... held me close and I felt the sudden urge to void myself.
Once more I awakened amongst dampened sheets. The stench telltale of the fear I was feeling. Several thoughts coursed thru my mind at once, all were so fleeting. My fingers clutched at the bed clothes tearing them from the mattress. One more I would have laundry to do. A useless thought but a necessary one as well. Using the back of my hand, I wiped the now dried blood from my nose and made my way to the bathroom. Hair all wild and chin still traced with that crimson brown, made me wonder how much more energy I could manage to expend.
Night after night, for weeks now, this continued. Every night it seemed more real then the last. I was becoming less and less able to get through each day. Work had begun to suffer, my relationships dwindled. Everything was coming apart. How long would it be before I could no longer bear these extravagant nights of terror? How long would it be before I would search out an end to either them or me? It was not something I would venture a guess on, I was stronger than that, least I had hoped. I would somehow, someway, overcome this hell I had been transpired into.
A calming began to slip over me as I brewed a pot of coffee. My memories came and went with the fashion of a shuttle train thru a busy station. I was at peace once more and as the serenity ebbed over me it left me like the high tide. I remembered that I had some frozen breakfast pastries hidden in the archives of my freezer and decided to look for them. As I opened the gapping mouth of the freezer, once more I was thrust back into that nightmarish hell, before that gnarling beast. I shuddered, dropping the package to the floor. It was the reality of it hitting my foot that brought me back to the here and now. A yelp and a hop on one foot had me cursing those pills which dropped me like a rotting apple into dreamland.
If only insomnia had not been my biggest problem, well before those hellish scapes appeared. If I could only sleep like "normal" people. Half crazy, half humored, I picked the pastry from the floor. I thought with a chuckle...
" Five-second rule"
Wiping it off I thrust it into the toaster then turned to pour my coffee. Quickly dropping two spoonfuls of sugar into the cup, I splashed in some creamer. A reoccurring thought had me check the toaster as I set the cup over to the table. If I was going to go this far than I might as well have some eggs and bacon as well. I reluctantly went to the fridge for the eggs when the radio blared on. More shootings made head ways in the news as well as a local break-in. At the top of the next hour as well, they would give the details of a found suicide victim. I hated the "details at eleven" approach. I wondered what this world was really coming to when again my mind drifted towards that nightmare once more. Soon it would consume me of this I was certain.
It was the loud shriek of the smoke alarm that made me realize those pastries were beyond done. Muttering to myself I grabbed a fork to retrieve them, dropping them into the sink. So much for breakfast. I finished the coffee and padded off to the bathroom. A hot shower always made everything seem better. Thirty minutes or so later, I emerged looking like broiled seafood. The red of my flesh went well with the red in my eyes I thought as I passed the mirror. I made a half-hearted attempt at work once more. It used to be something I loved doing but since those nightmares started I have cared for little more than understanding why they were haunting me to begin with. It was going on three months now...I tried to recall the exact moment they began but it was quickly feeling as though they had always been there, not able to remember much of anything else. They were somehow captured like photographs forever framed in my mind. Certainly not those kind one would display on one's own mantle but all the same they were still there, posing as a threat to my sanity. The hideous truths of my sub consciousness. Would I be able to dispel them as easily as they had started or was I to be forever haunted? I reckoned they were sticking around for quite some time.
A stifled yawn and a stretch brought my arms up over my head. A shudder and a shiver later I slid my feet into my slippers, dragging my robe around me. Scooping up that pile of unending laundry, I dropped them into a basket and head towards that ancient machine of washing. What the hell had I been thinking when I purchased that huck of metal anyhow? It was old and barely held more than a sheet at a time but all the same it did get my clothes clean. Grabbing the brass handle, I turned the water on to start the flow into that tub. Snatching the cup up I measured out a generous amount of soap and sprinkled it thru the water. Slowly I then distributed the clothes evenly as I could into the little tub and allowed it to begin it's cycle. The gentle swish and rolling gave me an instant calm. I was in a place of comfort once more and I hummed quietly. My robe caressed my frame like a warm blanket. The softness reminded me of my mother's hand against my cheek. Those were the days, carefree toddler, no worries, no cares, and certainly no nightmares, least not that I ever remembered. A sudden clank and thump and I sighed, reaching for those mismanaged clothes to redistribute them once more. Howling from the back porch caused me to jump. I took no more than a moment to recall the neighbors dog on his usual breakfast run. It reminded me how I missed having a dog of my own. I did have a cat once, long ago, but being the independent creatures they are, he wandered off one day and never came back. I did have the one dog, he had lasted as long as he could before he gave in to old age. He had been my faithful friend for near sixteen years. I had claimed him from the last leg of the cages at the pound before they could destroy him. With a smile I recalled the many days when we would walk thru the park and slow down along side the pond where he would bark after the ducks. The many swims we enjoyed together in the lake or simply curling on the porch together and watching the clouds go by. Those were the days, the ones pre-hellish nightmare riddled days.
I could not help but to let one smile spread across my face before I went back to the kitchen. I could smell the aroma of the brewed coffee with the quaint smell of burnt blueberry. That pastry still sat in the sink as I thumbed over it, deciding whether or not to attempt another, Once more the recklessness of my memories brought me to that nightmarish scene and I cringed, shrugging up both my shoulders. I shook it off and headed for my room, having forgotten about the coffee.
Pulling on a thong and a pair of jogging pants and top...I did a few careful stretches before going any further. Socks were then chosen to adorn my feet and then a sullenly sad pair of sneakers. From my dresser I snatched a clip and pinned my hair back out of my face. Tendrils here and there hung down to precariously tickle at my cheeks. I was ready for a good jog once or thrice around the block. It had already been decided to ditch my work once more, not even having the regards of if I would still have a job come the next day. The weather wasn't half bad so maybe this would be a good time to get some things done outdoors. I had let these thoughts dance carelessly thru my mind as I stood now on my front porch.
Shutting the door behind me, I stepped out into the fresh air. I took a few deep breaths and smiled, casting a wave to Henry across the street. He was a nice enough old man, living much on his own these past two years. Henry had seen the passing of a good many years and wars, taking chance to describe them to me with great detail now and then. He was an amazing fountain of knowledge. Imagine, eight decades and still going strong. I could only hope I would make it thru this one with as little cares. More than once I have stopped to listen to him ramble on for hours, wasting away the days light to hear his fabulous tales. I always meant to listen to him for a few minutes but quickly the time would past as well as the day. Often I would stop early afternoon and find myself racing the last of the sunlight across the road. The yapping of his little dog as he nipped at my heels gave me reason enough to laugh and dawdle a bit longer.
I started down the road towards Main Street, my feet making a steady contact with the pavement. Slap, slap, they hit against the road as I passed the first quarter mile. In the adjacent yard, I could see the pig-tailed twins playing in the shade of their elm tree. Flowers danced in the breeze and seemed to lift their petals to be sun kissed. Ivy, growing along the fence, turned their bottoms skyward in wait, I guessed they were awaiting rain. I could taste the dampness in the air. I prated along the half mile stretch my feet lifting with a quicken pace. Sniffing the air, I could definitely smell the on coming rain which was followed by a rancid, putrid odor. I froze in place, my feet planting firm where I stood. A shudder as my eyes sought out the source, almost with intense fear. Gasping loudly, I caught myself from bolting as I saw a dark figure seem to rise suddenly before me.
Frozen there but briefly, I felt a panic rise like vomit in my throat. Rising to choke me and my will to move for that intent moment in time. As the figure drew nearer my eyes widened and sweat began to bead up on my brow. Struck mute, I struggled for a simple scream...a holler, but all that would come was a muted whisper. Then with little or no ceremony at all, the dark figure passed over the top of me. It was a shadow and nothing more, of a passing low plane or the like. It had been nothing more than that and yet I allowed for it to strike such fear in me. I did what I could to shake off the feeling before I continued my jog. I would go home, yes that was what I needed to do, go home and rest, maybe even nap. I managed to start my feet once more, lifting one after the other until I broke into a quickened pace and made for home. Finally rounding the block I could see my house once more, my pace gaining in quickness. I watched with wild breaths as my chest rose and fell with each footfall. On the horizon I could see Henry in his yard and my hand would rise to wave but seemed to be dumbstruck as I tried. Once more I mustered the energy and fought back the muffled scream as I called out to him. These days now long gone and yet still seeming all the same...since these nightmares began.
(to be continued...)
© S Reagan 2009
 It's a fact, men lie to get what they want from you and then toss you aside like yesterday's trash. Especially those who think themselves a Pirate. Most Pirates have a sense of honor but there is one I know that is no Pirate nor a Man.. but rather a LIE in the wrappings of a man.  Atlantean Princess · Tue Nov 24, 2009 @ 04:53pm · 0 Comments |
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