Casual Friday

A Strange and Funny Dream

I almost died last night. My dream was stranger than going to work with no clothes on. I was sleeping in bed and woke up but didn't wake up, if you know what I mean. I was afraid but did not know why. There were no demons waiting to haunt me or zombies hoping to eat me. I knew something was going to happen but didn't know what it was. Someone told me that the anticipation of death is worse than death itself. Last night I knew that feeling.
I began to shrink; in fact everything began to shrink like a magic tea-cake in Alice's wonderland. My bedroom walls stretched further away and before I knew it I was lying in my tiny bed in the middle of a giant distorted room. I was small, insignificant and vulnerable. My heart raced and I began to shake. I wiped away the globes of salt water wedging out of my forehead as my cotton Pyjamas got soaked by the rest of my trembling body. I left my body for a moment and floated to the ceiling for a bird's eye view. I looked like an ant on a slice of white bread all curled up and afraid of being swallowed into a dark hole. I tried to wake myself up but the trance was deeper than a child's temper tantrum. I was stuck in a moment. As I looked at myself a thousand thoughts ran through my head. I felt the frustration of Ebenezer Scrooge during the revelations of the Ghost of Christmas past. I wanted to tell myself so much before it was too late. I shook my head in regret of all the things I had missed, of all the opportunities I had ignored. I saw the people I did not notice on the journey and the way I treated others like they existed for my success. I saw my girlfriend cry over my blatant disregard for her feelings and desires; of having no one to listen or care. I saw my dad and how he longed for my attention and love. I saw my mum how I broke her heart by living beyond healthy boundaries. I saw my sisters and how I was leading them astray. "Wake up!"
The walls began to move in and the ceiling dropped like the inner faces of a metal crusher. I had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. I shouted for help but no one heard my voice. I pounded on the door but no one noticed me. I cried but there was no one there to console me. I pushed against the wall but was rendered powerless. I froze on my bed as the room got smaller and tighter. I lay back and waited for the inevitable to happen. The room closed to the size of a me-shaped coffin and the ceiling touched my nose. I gave up the struggle and surrendered the fight. I had been overpowered by something greater, something beyond my control. I accepted my death and waited for the white room of heaven.
My eyes opened to my mother's face. She was wiping my brow with a cold and wet facecloth. I had been out for several hours and the doctor was concerned. He gave me medicine to deal with the virus and to lower my off-the-chart temperature. I lay on my double bed and looked around the room. It didn't look the same. I think I died last night.

posted by Mark Dowds @ Sunday, January 09, 2005