As I slowly revive this writing blog I'll start by reposting some of my original Blogger posts. IDV, I can't find "Setting as a Character" for some reason I think it wouldn't import, but I will come back to making a new version of that post because its still of interest to me.
Below you'll find a post that I'd completely forgotten about, but now I know it to have been the beginning of a recurring nightmare, what I call "The darkness that eats the world", it's inky blackness still tries to bleed through the doorway now and then. As I re-read this all these years later I cried at the mention of JP's name. Let this serve as a warning. Some doors of the mind should never be opened.
Original post date: July 19, 2007
Demons and Doors
As most of you know I am a regular lucid dreamer, but sometimes I think they go beyond just dreams. There is one very vivid dream I remember. It is stored in my memory like anything I have experienced in waking life. I was in my childhood friend’s house. I had never dreamed of her house before, but I do dream regularly dream about my grandparent’s house (as does my father), which was just across the street from hers.
It was a very small house, maybe 800 sq ft at most. In my dream I was standing in the dining room area. There was a young girl of about five there with me. She tried to pretend that she was my childhood friend at the age of five, but I knew it was not her. Sensed she was something else. There was an unstable energy about her. And when she spoke, they were veiled words.
She wanted me to take her hand and lead her out the back door. “You’re big enough, why don’t you open the door yourself?” I asked. She insisted I must open the door for her. Something inside me told me I should not. If she can’t open the door herself, there must be a reason I thought. She became increasingly impatient and there was a kind of crackling energy within the room making me very uncomfortable, painful, like a burning sensation.
Finally her anger peaked. I felt the searing claws of evil scrape the inside of my chest. I don’t know how else to describe it, just long, jagged claws scraping your through your insides. I had felt that feeling one before and since one time later. The gasping pain made me drop to my knees. There is no defense I know of against such a violation.
When I brought up my head there was a most innocent looking baby laying there cooing. I had the desire to pick it up and take it out of this horrid place, but I knew it too was not as it appeared. Then the baby became a cobra that grew to the expanse of the entire room. It hissed at me to open the door and run away from it. But I did not, I held my ground and then beside me and slightly behind cowered my childhood friend. She was frightened and begged me to protect her.
I had always protected her from dangers when we were children. Now here she stood beside me, begging me to get her out of there. Still, I knew it was not her. Then she too disappeared. The cobra said that I didn’t understand, that I had made a grave mistake, and that I was just one worthless, little being that couldn’t possibly understand all that was around me. At that warning it left through a portal that had suddenly appeared and then vanished.
I knew it was really gone, the energy was gone, the only energy I felt was my own. It was small and weak, like a pin light in a large dark room. I walked out the back door. The day was quickly fading into twilight. I wasn’t sure where I should go. I decided to walk to my old home, which was only three blocks away. On the main street there was a small grocery stored named JP’s. I used to go there often. As much for the 5¢ and penny candies as I was for visiting JP himself.
The doors were wide open, as JP used to do when he owned the store. I walked in and there he was standing behind the counter. A tall man with a stocky build, white cropped hair and be-speckled bright blue eyes. He always wore faded blue overalls and a white t-shirt, like he should be working on a farm instead of running a corner store.
When I saw him my heart swelled. “I’ve missed you some much.” I said while fighting back tears. “I know” he said and flashed me a warm, comforting smile like he always had. “You know you don’t belong here.” He said firmly, but gently. “I know “ I squeaked. He continued; “There are bad things here, things you can’t fight or survive, you must run home now before it’s too late, before it gets dark.”
I knew he was right. The semblance of my childhood neighborhood was already starting to crumble away and I could feel horrible things coming in the distance. It wasn’t just nighttime coming to this place, it was darkness eating the illusion. I gave JP one last smile and sprang out the door like a jack-rabbit. I ran as fast as I could while the pavement stared to fall away into large chunks into black holes. I made it to my front door and as soon as I opened it, I woke up in my bed. The daylight was already coming through my window.
I knew then, that JP was dead. That he had passed away at least a week before. When I looked at the obituaries in the newspaper it was confirmed. I’m so glad that I had a chance to have seen him, how nice of him to look out for me, just one last time.
