The Dream returned. Violins. And the violins again. Softly sweet, maddeningly eerie.
I've heard voices crying names
I have reveled in their beckoning
The voices that summon me...
A youth barely the age of eleven. Running. Wind rustling through the maple trees overhead. Daylight was waning; Birds released their solemn cries. Dull crunch of leaves beneath his shoes. Chestnut braid whipping against his back as he sprinted. About his neck, a simple cross-hung on a loose fitting beaded chain, slapping against his chest. Sneakers thudded against the earth, his arms swaying back and forth as he hurried down the cobblestone path. The congregation was beginning. The chorus would soon commence.
The daylight has almost gone
The birds have sung their last
The bells call out to mass...
The vision changed, fading to black. Revealing the same boy couldn't be more than the age of nine this time. He was sitting at a pew; auburn locks loosely askew, hands folded neatly in his lap, head down hiding his dejected expression. The sun filtered in through the stained glass, shining in his disheveled hair.
You carry a demon inside you"...they had said to him with suspicion.
When he slowly raised his head, his eyes glistened with the residue of tears, some dried against his cheeks. There was a small dirt smudge on his cheek as he wiped the moisture from his face, and slowly clasping his hands together, delicately interlacing his fingers and raising his head to the ceiling above.
"If you get me out of this, Oh great Almighty, I promise I'll never do it again"...
The desperate plea filled the empty church, disrupting the silence. And as the image blotted out, his head fell forward into his hands.
Running again. His footfall echoed down the deserted path and his breaths came in rapid gasps. The doors were in sight. The sound of bells filled the air.
He stood motionless in the aisle, staring forward with concern towards the front of the church.
An acrostic for prayer that I learned as a kid...
He bolted to the front of the church just then. Calling out a name. Helene.
She was poised at the front pew, reaching forward to light the many candelabras with a single wick. His eyes filled with joy as he approached her, flickering in the candlelight, surrounding by a sea of tiny flames. Standing back to admire her work, he tugged adamantly at her skirts, signaling for her attention. Turning to him with a soft smile, he gave a tinny laugh, which became lost among the noise of lulling bells and ceremonial chants.
Glancing about, he became absorbed in studying the many twinkling lights, the air of a child; mouth slightly ajar with quiet awe. Turning his gaze upwards, he cowered in wonder at the replica Savior mounted against a metal cross at the front of the congregational hall. Eyes widening, he took an unsure step back, as a muffled cry escaped his lips. Gazing to Helene for reassurance, he found her back was turned to him, and when he faced her, he shrank back in horror.
Her face distorted, seemed to wither away as he released a gasp, voice constrained in fear. He fell backward-foot entwined with the side of a nearby pew. The light of the candles swirled around into a crimson haze. Licking at the curtains, stretching forth to consume them. Helene stared blankly forth, skin peeling in the heat, eyes sunk in, flesh deteriorating, rotting away to reveal pale bone. Raising his hands to shield his eyes, a wounded cry dispelling from his mouth, lips quivering. The flames surrounding him, and he stood shaking in a confinement of dancing flames, smoke thick in the air, cinders brushing against his skin. He continued to cry out, curling into a fetal position, as the flames descended upon him. His voice quivering-ruptured in his throat, crying out for help. Screams ringing in my ears, deafening-
I lurched forward, unable to thwart the shriek grating through my throat until it discharged with full force out through my quavering mouth. My whole body was shuddering, bathed in a thick layer of sweat. My chest quaking, I drew my legs up around me, resting my arms on the top of my shaking knees. I felt the blood pulsing against my forehead, and I glanced at clock beside the bed, which read two in the morning. Clawing at the shirt soaked to my chest, I slid my fumbling hand inside until it met with my clammy skin, scratching desperately against the flesh until I found what I was looking for-the cold steel rosary on the beaded black chain, and I tightened my grip on it, nearly crushing it.
Why...why are these nightmares returning...
Sliding it off my neck, I held it up in my hand, my body trembling as I studied it in alarm, before I succumbed, and allowed my head to lull forward. My breathing began to slow, but I couldn't get that awful image out of my mind. I felt my hands gather fistfuls of the sheets, my knuckles burning white under the tension.
What's happening to me..?
I tensed then, as I felt a small droplet of water splatter from my face and trickle onto my right knuckle.
4:04 a.m.
I've heard voices crying names
I have reveled in their beckoning
The voices that summon me...
A youth barely the age of eleven. Running. Wind rustling through the maple trees overhead. Daylight was waning; Birds released their solemn cries. Dull crunch of leaves beneath his shoes. Chestnut braid whipping against his back as he sprinted. About his neck, a simple cross-hung on a loose fitting beaded chain, slapping against his chest. Sneakers thudded against the earth, his arms swaying back and forth as he hurried down the cobblestone path. The congregation was beginning. The chorus would soon commence.
The daylight has almost gone
The birds have sung their last
The bells call out to mass...
The vision changed, fading to black. Revealing the same boy couldn't be more than the age of nine this time. He was sitting at a pew; auburn locks loosely askew, hands folded neatly in his lap, head down hiding his dejected expression. The sun filtered in through the stained glass, shining in his disheveled hair.
You carry a demon inside you"...they had said to him with suspicion.
When he slowly raised his head, his eyes glistened with the residue of tears, some dried against his cheeks. There was a small dirt smudge on his cheek as he wiped the moisture from his face, and slowly clasping his hands together, delicately interlacing his fingers and raising his head to the ceiling above.
"If you get me out of this, Oh great Almighty, I promise I'll never do it again"...
The desperate plea filled the empty church, disrupting the silence. And as the image blotted out, his head fell forward into his hands.
Running again. His footfall echoed down the deserted path and his breaths came in rapid gasps. The doors were in sight. The sound of bells filled the air.
He stood motionless in the aisle, staring forward with concern towards the front of the church.
An acrostic for prayer that I learned as a kid...
He bolted to the front of the church just then. Calling out a name. Helene.
She was poised at the front pew, reaching forward to light the many candelabras with a single wick. His eyes filled with joy as he approached her, flickering in the candlelight, surrounding by a sea of tiny flames. Standing back to admire her work, he tugged adamantly at her skirts, signaling for her attention. Turning to him with a soft smile, he gave a tinny laugh, which became lost among the noise of lulling bells and ceremonial chants.
Glancing about, he became absorbed in studying the many twinkling lights, the air of a child; mouth slightly ajar with quiet awe. Turning his gaze upwards, he cowered in wonder at the replica Savior mounted against a metal cross at the front of the congregational hall. Eyes widening, he took an unsure step back, as a muffled cry escaped his lips. Gazing to Helene for reassurance, he found her back was turned to him, and when he faced her, he shrank back in horror.
Her face distorted, seemed to wither away as he released a gasp, voice constrained in fear. He fell backward-foot entwined with the side of a nearby pew. The light of the candles swirled around into a crimson haze. Licking at the curtains, stretching forth to consume them. Helene stared blankly forth, skin peeling in the heat, eyes sunk in, flesh deteriorating, rotting away to reveal pale bone. Raising his hands to shield his eyes, a wounded cry dispelling from his mouth, lips quivering. The flames surrounding him, and he stood shaking in a confinement of dancing flames, smoke thick in the air, cinders brushing against his skin. He continued to cry out, curling into a fetal position, as the flames descended upon him. His voice quivering-ruptured in his throat, crying out for help. Screams ringing in my ears, deafening-
I lurched forward, unable to thwart the shriek grating through my throat until it discharged with full force out through my quavering mouth. My whole body was shuddering, bathed in a thick layer of sweat. My chest quaking, I drew my legs up around me, resting my arms on the top of my shaking knees. I felt the blood pulsing against my forehead, and I glanced at clock beside the bed, which read two in the morning. Clawing at the shirt soaked to my chest, I slid my fumbling hand inside until it met with my clammy skin, scratching desperately against the flesh until I found what I was looking for-the cold steel rosary on the beaded black chain, and I tightened my grip on it, nearly crushing it.
Why...why are these nightmares returning...
Sliding it off my neck, I held it up in my hand, my body trembling as I studied it in alarm, before I succumbed, and allowed my head to lull forward. My breathing began to slow, but I couldn't get that awful image out of my mind. I felt my hands gather fistfuls of the sheets, my knuckles burning white under the tension.
What's happening to me..?
I tensed then, as I felt a small droplet of water splatter from my face and trickle onto my right knuckle.
4:04 a.m.