The Story of Josh Part Forty: Later Day Terror
We are in a Diner of some god forsaken road in the boonies when the subject of real fear comes up. These kids are always going on about being afraid of ghosts and spooks. They talk about the abominable snowmen and the loch Ness Monster but they never mention real fear. They never mention the rapists and the serial killers. After twenty minutes of listening to their back and forth I had to interject.
I asked them what they were the most afraid of and they sputtered and muttered but wouldn’t give me a straight answer. Finally when I won’t let the question drop ascot turns to me and asks me what I am the most afraid of.
I look him right in his eyes and tell him that if he wants to know I will tell him … but he better be goddamned sure he wants the truth. The air seems to drop thirty degrees in temperature and the night feels even darker.
As always this is a therapy session … but this time there is no doctor. This time I am in charge.
I have been having a reoccurring dream most of my life. In the dream I am five years old and I am in the back seat of a school bus. The bus is almost a mile long and is loaded with screaming children. As the children get louder and louder everything warps with a funhouse mirror effect and the air gets thinner and thinner. I try to scream for help but nobody can hear me over the noise of the children … children that seem to look more and more like giant rats as the air gets thinner and thinner.
This dream has terrified me since before my parents separated.
The dream has been my constant companion throughout my life coming with more and with less frequency over the years. I have other dreams that have returned now and then since I was young but they have all mutated and shifted as time has passed and my soul has matured. The bus dream has remained nearly 100% intact from the first to the most recent manifestation.
I would like to say that over the years I have learned to make peace with dream and to integrate it’s reality with my life. I would really like to say that but the fact of the matter is the fucking dream still has the power to wake me in a cold sweat with my heart hammering and my nerves on fire. But this ancient, and in some perverse way, welcome traveling companion through the years is an old friend compared to what I have now.
When my little girl meets a new person she says, “Hi my name is Katie!” and when she says it the world lights up. Her words and her smile are enough to turn my darkest night into my sunniest day. I love all of my children equally if differently but the other five came into my life at joyous moments. Katie Bear came to me when I was at one of my darkest and lowest points. She has helped bind our family back together when the stings were becoming frayed and loose.
Six months ago I started having a dream.
Six months ago I started having the worst nightmare I have ever experienced.
In the dream Katie is standing in a nearly dark room with a dim light flickering across her face. She is looking at a dark and menacing shape that is approaching her but I can never make it out. She starts out saying “Hi I’m Katie” to the shape but with every step it takes towards her she begins to sound more and more afraid. The tears start to flow and she keeps repeating the words but I can hear the words under the words.
“Help me poppa.”
“Save me poppa.”
Just as the shape is almost able to reach her and her cries are deafening in my head I wake. The tears running down my face and sobs choking in my throat. I have been having this dream for most of 2012 and I go to bed every night a little more afraid that I will have it again.
Ascot looks down when I finish. I don’t think he can bring himself to meet my eyes. That I tell them is real fear.
And that is all I have to say tonight. Thank you for listening.
I asked them what they were the most afraid of and they sputtered and muttered but wouldn’t give me a straight answer. Finally when I won’t let the question drop ascot turns to me and asks me what I am the most afraid of.
I look him right in his eyes and tell him that if he wants to know I will tell him … but he better be goddamned sure he wants the truth. The air seems to drop thirty degrees in temperature and the night feels even darker.
As always this is a therapy session … but this time there is no doctor. This time I am in charge.
I have been having a reoccurring dream most of my life. In the dream I am five years old and I am in the back seat of a school bus. The bus is almost a mile long and is loaded with screaming children. As the children get louder and louder everything warps with a funhouse mirror effect and the air gets thinner and thinner. I try to scream for help but nobody can hear me over the noise of the children … children that seem to look more and more like giant rats as the air gets thinner and thinner.
This dream has terrified me since before my parents separated.
The dream has been my constant companion throughout my life coming with more and with less frequency over the years. I have other dreams that have returned now and then since I was young but they have all mutated and shifted as time has passed and my soul has matured. The bus dream has remained nearly 100% intact from the first to the most recent manifestation.
I would like to say that over the years I have learned to make peace with dream and to integrate it’s reality with my life. I would really like to say that but the fact of the matter is the fucking dream still has the power to wake me in a cold sweat with my heart hammering and my nerves on fire. But this ancient, and in some perverse way, welcome traveling companion through the years is an old friend compared to what I have now.
When my little girl meets a new person she says, “Hi my name is Katie!” and when she says it the world lights up. Her words and her smile are enough to turn my darkest night into my sunniest day. I love all of my children equally if differently but the other five came into my life at joyous moments. Katie Bear came to me when I was at one of my darkest and lowest points. She has helped bind our family back together when the stings were becoming frayed and loose.
Six months ago I started having a dream.
Six months ago I started having the worst nightmare I have ever experienced.
In the dream Katie is standing in a nearly dark room with a dim light flickering across her face. She is looking at a dark and menacing shape that is approaching her but I can never make it out. She starts out saying “Hi I’m Katie” to the shape but with every step it takes towards her she begins to sound more and more afraid. The tears start to flow and she keeps repeating the words but I can hear the words under the words.
“Help me poppa.”
“Save me poppa.”
Just as the shape is almost able to reach her and her cries are deafening in my head I wake. The tears running down my face and sobs choking in my throat. I have been having this dream for most of 2012 and I go to bed every night a little more afraid that I will have it again.
Ascot looks down when I finish. I don’t think he can bring himself to meet my eyes. That I tell them is real fear.
And that is all I have to say tonight. Thank you for listening.
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