Dream: A Self Murder and A Reviving Future
I had a bad dream, it had hidden meaning behind it though. The ending was very sweet, I mean in an odd way. My mind is still processing what it means. Before the sweet part, it was, uber... Mega creepy. I cannot stress that it is strange.
It started out where I was standing in a dark room with a single spot light beaming out of the darkness and onto my neck. The floor was solid, and the stench of decay wretched the air, anything outside of the spot light was hardly visible as if the world ended a few feet off. My fingers oozed with a coppery gunk that pooled down onto the cement and formed dark ruby puddles. A few feet in front of me, stands, a figure. It was dark, but undeniably male, it's form hid from the light, but the air it gave off left me to wander the possibilities.
"Why?" My lips were chapped and my mouth was insationably dry. It hurt to talk with my throat, or even breathe. The words from my mouth were those of remorse and hurt feelings. They stung even myself to try and think of what I had done to ask. The form edged closer, still keeping his face from the light, his smile twisted as he pulled a knife from himself. It was a stainless steel carving knife, like the ones you find in kitchens. Except this time it wasn't stainless, it was the same ruby color of the puddles. The figure spoke, moving its body in a sort of possesed way, it waivered and wobble, letting a creepy smile and void black, lifeless eyes, scan me.
"It was needed, we did it because we hurt, now those voices have been silenced..." The voice spoke with my voice, but there was an over shadow of darkness to it. My voice felt scratchy and parched, "That wasn't the way! No! Y-you b*****d! I'll ki-" The figure interrupted me, raising the sword of butchery. "Like you did the voices? The blood on our hands is thick Jack." The blood began to tingle as it dried, it felt horrible... Now I realised what happened. The b*****d... The demon. This blood was that of my, my... My mouth tasted of rotten cells and salt, it sloshed with anguish.
My eyes began to burn from over saturation to the light, the figure stumbled closer again, as if it were a zombie, limp from decay. It then began to move as if it were human... The shadows swirled, amassing the body. The knife gleamed, bright red with blood. It speaks again, "We are one, you and I, one coin, two sides, yet we exist at the same time, we cannot exist at the same time, We are the same, I am you. We destroyed the foundation to let the buildings become nothing but-" I lunged at it, catching the figure by surprise and sending it to the floor.
I laid ontop of it and yelled, felling my lung cavity with heat. The air expells, "SHUT UP! NOW!" I take hold of its head and slam it hard against the cold cement, it made a cracking noise, but the figure kept on wriggling about. "The foundation remains, while the buildings may no longer stand, but the ground is still-" The figure coughs up a shadow and interrupts again, taking hold of the knife and trying to force it into my leg. "It's nothing... we destroyed it, it is no longer fertile for anything, we must turn others to our will, we must use them, consume their..."
My hands wrap around the knife and rip it from his grip. The worn handle fitting in my palm. The figure struggles, then stops as I edge the cold steel into its neck only causing shadow to leak. Blood begins to leak from my throat as well... It's strange, but my idea has come to fruition. "No, It's still there, I can always rebuild. Those voices, my friends taught me how to live in peace, they taught me that I can see light even in the dark... And no matter what ground I find myself upon, I can always rebuild and start over. This! There teachings shall be the basis for the new life, the new structues! From now on... And forever, I will never be like you again!"
I dig into the figure with the knife chopping it in two and splitting a seam on my neck. As if I had a part of myself cut away... The world twists, the sky changes, the spot light is gone. The cement fades into sand and grass covered dunes. My knees are buried in the soft sand and the figure is gone. The blood on my hand... It has been washed away by many years. My throat feels healed. My body is at rest for the moment. In the distance, music can be heard, as faint as it is, it is soft, and sweet. Played on a string instrument.
Out in the direction of the sound, I look to find a large cabin, alone by itself. I slowly stand and begin to move towards the home. As I near the house, the details become clear, the wood is worn, but it seems, familiar, I am quite sure that I, myself, have never seen it before, but I know it... It's there, int the back of my mind. I open an oak door into a warm, inviting house. Well lit by the rising sun through the windows. The music becomes louder. As I pass by several rooms, I come to a bathroom and begin to wash my face. the water is cold, but soothing, it's from a well spring, it's not that hard to tell.
I grab a white towel from a rack and look at my face in the mirror. The music still plays, at the same sound as when I walked into the bathroom. My face has changed, it has matured... More than before. I look a little rugged, as if the stubble on my face wasn't enough, the same blues eyes that stare back, they are a deeper blue, as if something changed to make me as I was when I was a kid... Something, not the greed filled green eyes, but the sincere and honest blue eyes. I touch my face, finding not a trace of acne, or if I do, it's barely notice able. My hair has grown a bit, but other wise it's as if my grandfather clipped it.
I touch the glass of the mirror and smile. The scar on my neck is gone. For a moment, I lift up this white dress shirt to check something. My incision scar is still there, that proves it's me... I'm not buff, but I look better than I do now, atleast it looks like I finaly took things seriously for once and wised up. I look out the door, and hear the violin playing from upstairs. Many pictures cover the walls, some of mine with this one woman, my dream seems to want to keep a paradox from happening so it blocks out most features. There are a few pictures of family, some pictures of the woman and I in countries around the world. Each one... I'm smiling.
No longer shy to hide in a picture, more proof that I exist. The pictures put me at ease the further I go up. It just seems so relaxing, the taste of clean, fresh air changes to one of mint and cloves... As if tea was brewed or some one had candles going. I pass several more doors, before the music gets louder, and purer. The sound undiluted. And then, there it comes from. It eminates from a master bedroom with a canopy bed. A woman looks out over a balcony, playing her violin. A lovley white dress flows on her form.
She's absolutely beautiful. Her hair is midnight black, and the song she plays is divine. Each string as if plucked or rosened by angels. I approach her, and softly put my arms around her. She's calm and continues to play, slowly, before finaly hitting one final long note, and lowering her arms. This is my chance... To find out why this part fills me with joy, why I feel so complete. She whispers into my ear softly, "Hey D-"
The dream just ends, I burst awake at the sound of my alarm clock blaring in my head. Then I get to school just to write this down... Thank you for listening...
