User blog:TillDeathAndAfter/Dream of good times

I had a dream.

But it wasn’t just a dream. And it was not a nightmare but, I knew that it was different…something I…something I haven’t felt before. I can not pinpoint what I felt because it was not fear nor was it confusion neither was it happy or satisfied. But like I said before, incomparable to anything anyone, including myself, have felt through there veins. I laid there, just looking at my ceiling for what seemed as if for hours trying to collect my thoughts that were running through my helpless mind. I felt so alone, so vulnerable to the rest of the world and I craved to have the feeling of somebody lying next to me, to comfort me. Or have somebody to share my dream with, but I had nobody then.

So I am going to tell you now. It started in the house from my childhood. I walked down the hallway to my kitchen, following a wonderful smell of a home cooked meal that would always linger our small ranch house Sunday mornings. It brought back so many memories of when my parents were still together. They were good times. I pushed open the cattle doors that opened up to the kitchen just to see an empty room with a pan with sizzling bacon. When I turned around I jumped with a shock as I saw my mother standing in front of the cattle doors with much posture. She was just standing there smiling like a life-sized doll. But when I got a closer look, I realized that this was not my mother. It was like a mannequin version of her. She had huge eyes that were staring at me and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Mother?” I said, trying to see if I could get a reaction from this thing. It said nothing, but its smile got even bigger, even eerier. I walked past it and its eyes followed me, continuing to smile. I pushed back the door and back into the hallway and started to walk to my room. It was surprising to me that I could remember exactly where every room was considering we moved when I was 6, when my parents split. I opened the door to my room and the door creaked loudly. Inside the room was empty except for two of my dolls from when I was little, and a tea set that my grandma gave me as a gift sitting in the middle of the hardwood floor. The room was cold because of the large window being open. There was something in the back of my mind that tempted me to play with the toys. It was like they were laid out just for me. So that’s just what I did. I sat in the middle of the room and played with the dolls and had a tea party with them not even feeling embarrassed that I am 14 and doing this. I played just like I did as a kid; I was having the best time I’ve had in a long time. I had not one care in the world. Just when I thought everything was great, and life was good, things got weird. I felt a draft hit my face so I looked up and when I did I saw two figures standing in front of the window. They came out of nowhere, they just appeared. I cringed. It was my Mother and Father. No…it was the mannequin versions. This time they stood right next to each other, staring down at me with their bone shaking smiles. I did not know what else to do but sit there and stare back at them. Suddenly they turned around showing me the other side of them and what I saw was frightful yet interesting. Their backs were stitched up the center and had cotton stuffing seeping out of the wounds. There faces were pinned back, forcing them to smile, and there was a hole in the back of there throats exposing that there voice boxes were ripped out. When they turned back around they had their fingers held up to their mouth like they were signaling me to be quiet. They stepped a foot away from each other. There was a figure standing outside the window. It was standing there, still, lifeless. Its face was white and still. But just like my mother and father it had that smile. That horrible smile! And in its hands I saw a needle and thread, both dripping with cotton and blood. This is what did such a horrible thing to my parents. And there it was. Staring at me and smiling so terribly. I was paralyzed in fear. It dropped the needle and thread and lifted its finger up to its lips in silence, looked at me for a few more seconds…and disappeared in thin air. Then my mother, and then my father. I was all alone.

That is when I woke up.

I know I should’ve felt scared, but I don’t. I feel like there was significance to the dream. But one thing was sure, it was quiet, and I was alone. It was so quiet that every noise made me jump. That is when I heard a loud bang from downstairs, so I got up to see what it was instead of cowering from it. I slowly walked down the steps cringing with every creek it made. When I was at the bottom I walked into the living room and looked at the large sliding door in the far corner. There was nothing as I expected, but when I turned around I heard a knock at the glass door. My heart stopped. I turned my head expecting the worse, but what I saw were two hairy paws against the door and a loud “mmmmmeeew”. It was the damn cat. I did not necessarily want to go to the door, but I felt pity for the cat being out there in the freezing winter weather, so I walked up to the door, unlocked it, and opened the door to let him in. I bent down to chain back the lock which was at the bottom of the door. When I stood back up, I looked forward and smiled…at what was smiling back at me…