My nightmares are always vivid. They’re never the subtle ones where the shadows start closing in slowly and I’m anxiously awaiting something horrible that eventually shows up from around the corner. Instead the monsters in my dreams are there from the start, larger than life, even larger than death, harassing me with a vengeance usually reserved for horror films where the blood flows like a river throughout.
But I also have “hallways dreams.” You know the ones, where I’m walking down a hallway and there are doors along the way. Sometimes they’re numbered and sometimes they’re not, but always there are at least three, like that old TV show, “Let’s Make a Deal.” Let’s see what’s behind door number 1! Of course I never choose door number 1 though, because that’s the one the monster is behind. And door number 2 is too obvious as well. The monster might anticipate my avoidance of the first door and lurk behind the second one instead.
Door number 3 it is. I usually welcome the unknown, opening that third door with my eyes closed and hoping against hope that the monster didn’t do the double fake, that I won’t open them to find his gigantic, razor sharp teeth fastened around my head. Sometimes I open my eyes and I see a surprise birthday party with people I don’t know all peeking out from behind phantom furniture and smiling these Black Hole Sun smiles. They still freak me out, but I don’t want to make them feel like I’m unappreciative so I enter anyway, even if I know they’ll eventually suck out my soul. I enter and I pretend to be happy, because they did all this for me.
And later on, when they’re indeed sucking out my soul, I sigh because I knew it was going to happen, but also that it was inevitable from the moment I opened the door. Maybe next time I’ll install a fourth door in my nightmares.
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