True Sh*t 8: More Nightmares

Looking back to when I was a kid, I recall having some of the damnedest nightmares, including a series involving visitors from space. They never had good intentions.

The neighbors and I ran from our homes, oval shapes hovering over us with a moving jerkiness like anger about to explode. Sometimes I would see the invaders walking over us, other times I only felt their presence, a numbness of dread embroidered into the back of my neck. Often the dream started with the sound of heavy fingertips rapping on the walls or tapping along the windows, and I would get out of bed not knowing that I had been ushered into that other world, the dreaming world. When I did know, I reached for the curtains but was afraid to pull them aside. Afraid that the visitors would be right on the other side of the glass, looking back at me and they were never afraid.

In one dream, I awoke to the sounds of something on the roof. Gentle footsteps. I lay there watching the ceiling and following the sounds of the steps down from the apex of the roof to the edge and off to the corners. Who's up there? My answer: a force that pushed me into the mattress. Couldn't get up. I could move my eyes. I looked around, seeing nothing, but feeling something inside like lead flowing about. It's them and they didn't waste time tonight. Just go away. Please let me go. I looked down at useless feet, couldn't run. I can still see my feet, white socks on, just feet, pointing up like normal. Were my parent's awake? Couldn't call out. Could they hear the vistors? Just let me go. I'm getting colder, maybe the fear, maybe more. Just let me go. I'll do what you ask. But no demands were made. No voice. The force takes it's own time, it came upon me and gave no feeling of concern to my desire to avoid it.

It left, and when they left, I felt the void left behind. I lay silent and looked at the ceiling. I could move my head and I looked at the clock. It had an old numerical display like a black plastic Rolodex. The shutters fell over as time passed. It was a little after three in the morning.

I could move and I wanted to get up and look out the window. Look up and see. I thought of going outside but I lay there. I realized I was in the coldest sweat and I thought of getting fresh sheets. I waited to wake up. Minutes went by and I was still there. I woke up right? No? Yes you did. You woke up just before or right when they killed you. It was them, right? Who or what else? A half hour. I had to have awakened, but I don't remember it. The morning finally came. I woke up. Yes? Don't remember. Sure I did. This is ridiculous, that was a dream. Days. Weeks. Thirty years. Yes I did. I woke up.