Describe the last nightmare you remember having. What do you think it meant?
Well there’s the one I had last night, but it’s still too fresh too talk about, and too revealing to acknowledge.
So an old nightmare, that recurs regularly. As for the meaning, well, that’s debatable.
It’s quiet in the church. The girl with the jet black hair and the red cap from across the hall is sitting tow rows ahead of me. What’s her name again? Sheesh, we stay in the same corridor but I’ve never leant her name. Is she a Lindsey? She could be, I’m sure I’ve hear that name
She’s looking at me with a furrowed brow. Ah, that’s why we’re not friends, she’s always worrying about my coming home late or my loud parties. She’s staring at a point
Next to me is my father. This would not be strange, except that he is dead. His silver streaked beer reeks of tobacco and soil, his clothes are stained
He’s angry. Thank God we’re in a church. He says we buried him alive he wasn’t dead he layed there for months waiting for us to dig him up
We take him home. But he’s dead. This can’t be. I’ve moved on, made peace
Don’t be daft. Be happy. Now the burden of responsibility is back on him
No, his job won’t take him back. I go home and hear him growling from the bedroom
But surely he’s dead? How is it possible? Didn’t someone check?
Things will now go back to normal.
But he’s dead? He wants you to go see him. But he’s dead. He needs a few things from the shops. But he’s dead! He can’t work anymore due to, you know, dying and coming alive again
But he’s dead…
He’s dead he’s dead he’s dead he’s dead
Sheets and sweat splatter against the wall as I rip through them awake