The dreams that kill

I've been having the same dream for weeks. It won't stop.

He's completely paralyzed, from the neck down. I know he's done it to himself.

He's the reason they're dead.
She had her reasons for writing the letters.

But I keep going to visit him in the hospital. I keep showing up, strictly to take care of him - to delicately bathe him, to feed him, to make sure he's getting the care he needs, but doesn't deserve. I try to make myself stay away, but I can't. I can hear his voice resonating in my ears. His smile keeps me going. He's so glad every time I show up. And, I always feel relief...once I get there.

When I leave, the resentment sets in all over again. Although, I can't help but miss him.


Then, I flash back into that black house.

I see the stairs going up and down, in and out of the portico.

It's dark.
There are no lights.

I can only barely make out the details of things by the light of the moon that washes over the mostly roofless house, bathing everything in a sick, muted light. I can feel evil in the house, and there's absolutely no escape.

It's back before he got hurt.

We perilously try to make our way through the house, to find some way out, but it's almost impossible. The only way we can keep from going insane is to huddle together, to find joy in the presence of the other. I can feel "things" flying overhead, but I don't dare look up. We pray they don't notice we're there.

There's a darkened basement.
There's an accident.
He falls.
But he's not dead.

I try to defend him, but everyone knows what's happened. They blame him. I say, "he's not like that. He would never do something like that. You don't even try to understand him."

But somehow, I'm wrong.

I don't even know I'm wrong, until it's too late. Until everyone else knows. I feel so stupid and betrayed. Why am I always the last to know?

But I keep visiting.
I keep taking care of him.
Because I always will.
Because I know what happened in real life.
And, I know he deserves so much more than this.

Yet, he'll never be ok.
Not after what's happened.

He's not the one who's paralyzed.

It's me.

1 comment:

HEWY said...

Yikes. I just got caught up on your blog so you last entry freaked me out. You could write a twilight zone episode on that one. I hope you are feeling better.