Scream Dream

It felt like, it almost felt like those little chocolate balls with the malted centers,

I think they’re called whoppers. Man I love those things. They fell kind of funny and it tastes good but after you bite into one it feels very weird, they kinda stick to your tongue

It feels like they are trying to suck your tongue into each and every crevice, like they’re trying to absorb your tongue.

That’s what it feels like to put your hand through a ghost. At first its not really scary. I mean your scared but it doesn’t really hit you until the little powdery crumbly bits that aren’t really there try to absorb something from you and your hand can kind of taste their memories, all the horror of their memories, all the years of waiting and floating, and eventually hating. You can taste it through the pores of your skin. You can taste the moment they died and all of their loss, like a little malted milk ball, you know the chocolaty goodness inside the malted milk ball?  It’s like that at first and then when more and more is absorbed and your mind realizes what is going on, I mean what’s really happening.  Your tasting the horrible memories of a dead person and the longer you have your hand in them.  Even the split second you have your hand in them its forever, and their forever is seeping into every pore on your hand. That’s what it feels like to put your hand through a ghost.

Dawn and I moved into a new house and it was haunted. We weren’t really scared, well maybe a little. Dawn was scared but I was being macho and not letting it bother me. 

The voice of the realtor popped into my head, he said “this place is supposed to be haunted if you believe in that sort of thing.”  This was our first night, well the first night that we were sleeping here. We had been moving our furniture and stuff in over the last week, We had seen little snippets of activity throughout the day and into the beginning of the night but it was the type of things that you could write off as an active imagination. This was different, this was defiantly and unequivocally different.

            She moved closer, as she floated along the open balcony I thought “how cool I am actually going to see a ghost.”

The first glimpse of the old see through white dress, it was just a hint of being their, moved down the open hallway balcony. You could see one part at one time and other parts at other times it was almost like seeing a light through the trees in the woods.  Some bits were visible and some were blocked out. It wasn’t quite seeping into this plain into our world it was like one of those puzzles that you can kind of make out what the picture is then those pieces are gone and you have other assorted pieces and can make out other parts of the picture.  Then it changes again, the whole time, your mind is subconsciously putting the bits together in your head. 

When you touch it, I mean you don’t really touch it, your hand just moves through it but its like your hand is pushing into Styrofoam (the yellow mattress material) that is only partially there and every little bit that touches your hand comes and goes leaving its memory on your skin, the whole time your mind is putting together the puzzle of its memory. 

It knows that after searching for so long, its found something it can remember, its so angry, that you can taste it. Its not angry that you can taste it, its angry and you can taste the anger. Yeah, that’s what I mean to say but it wants to be heard so bad and its been so long since anything was real to it. What you feel, it’s a dull internal horror.  It’s a loss of family it’s like a deaf mute, like Helen Keller, when know body could understand what she was trying to communicate. It’s a mad, angry at the world, rage full kind of hatred.

When it finds someone that it can communicate with it kind of gets excited.  When it feels the connection, it gets excited in a sense and pushes itself on you. At first the feeling is overwhelming.  To actually be feeling someone else’s memories and fears and tasting their hatred. The feeling is kind of like putting your finger into a wet sponge, a real ocean sponge, its gritty, kind of and only damp, but as you press harder it compresses the sponge and you actually feel the liquid. That’s how the memories come to you.

When they realize you are one of the ones that can understand they push, they push hard, and on their side it gets all mashed up and confusing, like if you were to mash a boiled egg through a screen. On your side, enough bits come through so you can tell its an egg then as more squishes through its no longer pieces of something identifiable its all a squishy mass of something you don’t want to know.

She, It, moved closer. When I realized what was really happening I tried to pull the heavy comforter over myself but one hand was still in her.  It was being sucked in. The rest of me was covered but one hand was outside the covers and she was moving forward up to my wrist and part way up my arm.  That’s when my screams rang in my own ears.  I knew it was me but I didn’t realize I was screaming. The whole scene spun around and around as I moved toward consciousness, finally waking with only a murmur in real life, a murmur that had been hysteric screaming moments before in the horrible place that is my dream world.

Dawn was doing cross stitch sitting beside of me she turned to hug me as she said honey are you alright. I wanted to forget but the memory was so intense that when it started to fade it was like being raped.  It was like something was being taken from me something that when it gone, its gone and you cant get it back.

That’s why I had to write it down, so I could try to keep a part of something amazing. Horrifying, but amazing.

Now the memory is like any memory bits and pieces weave their way into the fabric of our mind but you never really see it like you did when it happened.

                                                                                   Douglas Face

                                                       Original Dream and first very rough Draft 10-23-07

                                                                   First draft Nov 17, 2008,  1:58 am