Tuesday, January 3, 2012

selfish dreams

This morning I wrestled myself awake from the midst of a disturbing dream.
One of those dreams that make you feel physically sick, and clings to your soul like pine pitch.

I was a teen, biking from the house my Mom still owns to "home", the house where I grew up. Then on a lonely piece of road my bike tire went flat, the whole wheel bent all out of shape and fell off the bike.  I'm carrying and pushing my bike, when I see a man coming towards me. He has a hunting rifle and is mumbling to himself.  He sees me and starts to walk faster.  He is close enough that I can hear him yelling threats at me.

I walk up the ramp onto the highway, pushing and carrying my bike, the man is still following me yelling his evil intent.  I walk off the highway into the rest area. There is a coffee shop there, full of teen boys watching cartoons on the big plasma tvs, and drinking coffee. The man follows me in.  I feel safe in the company of these other kids.  The man sits at a table of other men, they are all talking as if they know each other.

I get a cup of coffee, and go to a corner table. I hide myself under my jacket and call my Mom on my cell phone.  (This is weird because cell phone didn't exist when I was a kid.)

"Mom can you please come and get me, my bike tire is flat."
"I just started my lunch." I can hear her eating while she's talking.
"Please come get me, my bike is broken."
"Well, I'm eating now."
"You can finish your lunch first, it's ok. Please come and get me."
"Well, you're being very selfish." she says.
"Can you come and get me?"
"Well, you're being very selfish."
"Please, my bike is broken."
"Well, you're being very selfish."
"Mom... there is a big scary man following me, I can't walk home."
"Well, you're being very selfish."
"Please come get me."
"Well, you're being very selfish."
"Mom, he is following me."
"Mom?" There is no reply from my Mom. "Mom?"  All is quiet on the phone. She has not hung up. She is just not talking. This goes on and on in my dream. Me pleading and her non-response.

When I end the phone conversation and get out from under my jacket, the big scary man is staring at me chuckling to himself, as if he's heard every word I spoke to Mom.

I walk over to sit with the boys watching cartoons. I am shaking in my dream and in real life.

1 comment:

Debbie's Garden said...

Thats creepy. Its so hard to shake off a bad dream too!