This one I wrote about a dream I had 2 years ago. The few people that have read it told me it sounds like my fear of getting married. At the time, I thought that that explaination was total crap, but the more I read it, the more I understood where they could see that. Sometimes, the most terrifying dreams have very little in them that are scary but a feeling or a seemingly innocuous thing is the most terrifying of all.
She stood in front of the mirror, running her hands down her stomach to her hips in a vain attempt to smooth out the stiff satiny fabric of her white gown. She almost didn't believe the reflection staring back at her was even her. They did her hair and makeup. She couldn't bring herself to do it... she didn't want to be here... no matter how beautiful she looked.
A knock came at the door behind her, and a muffled voice mumbled that she had a few minutes and then it was time. She looked down at her hands and wondered exactly how it was that she got there. Nothing made sense. Only that moment and a few passing memories from the day before lingered in her mind. But the only one that she remembered from before, the one that seemed so ominous, was the tree. She kept seeing it in her mind... the thick oak tree, barren of all signs of life, it's twisted black limbs stretching high into the grey sky. Nothing scared her more than the thought of that tree and it's death like stranglehold on the air around it. But no memory followed the image of the tree... nothing to explain why it frightened her. Tears trickled down her golden cheeks.
Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't notice that They came into the room like ghosts. They dabbed her eyes and whispered consolation in her ears. They beckoned and she turned to the door and followed them out of the comforting security of the room. Their voices echoed in her ears; scolding her for ruining her makeup by crying, all would be better soon, he would heal her, he would make her whole, the nightmares would stop, the memories would return. Walking down that long hallway, she trailed behind Them, ignoring their words. The hallway was eerily lit by the lambent light of the moon streaming in from the many large windows. They carried candalabras as They shuffled her towards the end of the hallway to the ornate carved door that lead to a place she knew that she needed to fear.
Suddenly and without warning, a sense of hushed urgency swept over Them and Their voices became frantic. They said things she couldn't understand, not that she even cared to, she was focused on her own sorrow. One smoothed down her hair, another placed a tiny kiss on her cheek and handed her a small candle to light her way, while the final 2 rearranged her dress around her. Coming out of her trance, she looked around and noticed that she was alone. They left her at the door.
She closed her heavy eyes and drew a deep breath in. The menacing door seemed to swell with every breath she took, it's hinges creaking as if it had lungs of its own. Opening her eyes, she noticed that her hand was reaching for the silver doorknob. For a moment, she hesitated. Why would They leave her in front of this door? Is this where he resided? She shook what fear she had from her head, clutched the candle tightly in her hand, and with the other reached out once more for the doorknob, and turned it.
She stepped in and the door shut behind her. Enveloping blackness surrounded her, closed in on her, the rich carmelly glow of the candle lighting her way through the huge room. In the distance, she saw a small window. A faint grey light eminated from it, though not enough to give her a pathway. She began to walk toward the window. She walked for what seemed like hours, and yet she was no closer to the window than when she began. Aburptly, she broke out into a swift run. As she ran on, she could hear the echoes screaming warnings in her ears. Stay away. Turn back. You won't like what you see. She finally reached the window. She pressed her hands against the cold glass, panting... and there it was.
The massive oak tree from her memories stood triumphantly in a field that it had drained of any signs of life.
That forbodding tree stood on top of a small grass covered hill, surrounded by murky water. Those armlike limbs tearing at the delicate and dingy sky. One moment she was gazing out that small window, the next, she was standing waist deep in the water, looking up at the majestic and terrifying reality of that tree. She climbed up the hill on hands and knees, the dead grass scraping at her tender flesh. Why couldn't she remember this place? Even though it frightened her, she felt oddly at home, almost soothed, this close to a memory of her past. She knelt at the base of the tree, hoping something would come to her. An explanation, a reason, anything that could tell her who she was, where she came from, and what happened to her.
When she realized that she would get no answers here, she turned away from that tree and walked back down the hill to that impure water. Bodies began to drop from the vault of Heaven, pedulously swinging from nooses. All hanging from an invisible source above, the bloated ashen skinned bodies of men and women. Their eyes searched the skies. Their mouths grotesquely contorted in their moments of agony. Their hands open at their sides and their feet cuspidated like those of ballet dancers. Around each right eye, a red mark, either painted, cut, or burned into the skin.
She should be afraid. A forest of bodies hung all around her, yet she feared nothing here. Such a vulgar display of reality, she thought. Vulgar and yet so beautiful. She lowered herself into the water and began to float around the tree, the toes of the bodies dangling just above her. She floated on and on, feeling herself fall deeper into despair. The black water saturated her gown, dragging the weight of her delicate body down into the cold depths of the dark pond. As she sunk further and further down, she saw the bodies hanging above her turn their heads down and glare directly into her eyes, their mouths still twisted, the red sybmols around their eyes oozing blood.
She didn't try to scream, she didn't fight against the force forcing her further down. She accepted her fate. Who knows what was supposed to come of her, and if this was the will of the Fates, then she somberly resigned herself to this destiny. As she went deeper, the water began to turn her lovely alabastor flesh to an alluring shade of cadaverous grey.
And as she plunged into the unknown deep, she finally felt free.