Nightmares

I stopped and leaned against the wall. My breathes were quick. I heard footsteps and I knew I had to run. I didn’t have the energy, but I didn’t have a choice either. Run or die.

After what seemed like hours, but could have been mere minutes, I came across three doors. All painted red. No, the red was not just a mere paint red. The doors were covered in blood. Hundreds must have bled to cover these doors in red. All the doors looked daunting, but I had to pick one. Pick or die.

I heard those footsteps again. I panicked. My whole life depended on this choice, yet I could not even spare a minute to think. I ran towards the second door and grasped the knob. I was terrified. I knew I had no option but to turn the knob. Open or die.

The door shut behind me. Everything went dark. My feet moved on whilst my brain tried to grasp what was happening. I had been running from those footsteps. I knew the danger. Now, the fear had amplified. I didn’t even know what to be afraid of…

I finally saw a tiny glimpse of light and I ran towards it. I had to get home. The light was my only hope. As I grew closer, I realized it was not an escape. It was not a gateway. It was another room. The room was bare except for a pure white stand. And on it stood a huge bowl filled a shimmering blue liquid. I stepped closer to the bowl and the walls began to shake. The walls were closing on me. I was trapped. When the walls finally stopped moving, I saw the scribings on the wall facing me – “Look into the bowl and see what you fear most”. Look or die.

Facing your fears. Your true fears. We all hide behind a mask to protect ourselves from the harsh realities. But if I wanted to go home, I knew I had to face my fears. I had to look and accept what I feared most. Taking a huge breathe I peered inside the bowl. I let out a cry. Cry of pain and agony. No! It could not be it! How was I to live with that realization? The ground below me gave out. And I fell.

 

My eyes flew open. I was drenched in sweat and my heartbeats had gone haywire. But I remembered the nightmare. I could remember what I had seen in the bowl. Even the nightmare had ended, it had left me with an agonizing  truth. The fear  in the nightmare was very real reality. The nightmare had not ended. It had just begun…

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3 thoughts on “Nightmares

  1. Pingback: Poem / Poetry – “Any Dream Will Tell You” | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

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