I don’t know why it happened. When I first looked into that room, it seemed as if it wasn’t real at all. Things like that don’t really happen. At first I thought it was an optical illusion. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion as I realized that this was no joke. Something horrible had definitely happened and I was the first witness to the traumatic event.
I gulped. I shut the door. I fell to the floor and covered my face. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just sat there, too horrified to speak, to horrified to move.
People walked past me and looked down at me like I was crazy. And maybe I was crazy. How can you witness such a horrible thing and not be. Had it been a show or a prank it would have been just as frightening. But I would have walked away and still been somewhat “right” in the head. However, this was no joke. This was real and frankly, I found it pretty disturbing.
A little girl was lying in the bed. Her head had been sawed off and there was blood everywhere. Her head was at the foot of the bed by her little black boots. The eyes on the severed head were wide open and staring at me. They were dead eyes, but they looked alive and were solid black like the eyes of a squid. They were black in a way that human eyes really shouldn’t be.
Blood was everywhere. It covered the blankets. It drenched the sheets and spilled onto the floor. The girl sat up and screwed the head back onto her neck. Then she got up and walked away as if this were a completely normal thing to do. After all, when disaster strikes, you have to pick up the pieces and walk away. Forgive and forget.
About ten minutes after waking up from this really strange nightmare, I realized that you really can’t put your head back onto your neck once it’s been chopped off. It makes me wonder.
Sometimes I dream the future. I have had vivid visions of death only to see or hear about a murder or disaster on the news the following day. But for some weird reason, I typically will dream a whole scene in a movie the day before I see it. This is really weird, because I’ll dream about a movie that I’ve never seen or heard of in my life. Like the time I dreamed that I looked out the window and saw a burning airplane propeller in my backyard. The next day I saw this in the movie “Donnie Darko.”
Since I haven’t seen a movie yet to explain this weird dream, maybe it’s some sort of metaphorical symbolism. I loaned out my favorite dream interpretation book and I never got it back. So I guess I’ll never know.
But speaking of metaphors. I wrote a metaphorical story about what it’s like to try to escape an insane poverty stricken family and join the elite upper class. It’s called The Book of Snatcher and is now available on Amazon as a paperback and Kindle version. So if you’re stuck sitting with your insane relatives who are certain that you’re the insane one, read The Book of Snatcher, laugh quietly to yourself and know that you’re not alone.
And by the way, it’s steam punk.
Coming soon….”Once Upon a Midnight Mango.”