A Bad Dream

Long ago the clock washed midnight away; bringing the dawn;
I wake up all of a sudden. Its dark around me, and I am scared - scared that darkness will engulf me and swallow me up to the point of disappearing forever. Dawn is far off it seems, and I for one am clueless as to what is going to happen to me next.
I get out of the bed to realize that the floor is still there. Its chill sends a chill up my spine; but it is comforting in a weird sense. I can see in this darkness a strange silhouette of the doorway, as I stumble along towards the kitchen, trying to get for myself a glass of water to quench the thirst. The sweat trickling down my back makes me uncomfortable; not because of its expression of wet, but because it flows out of fear - fear of the bad dream I saw when I was perhaps asleep.

Oh God, I must be dreaming; time to get up again; and time to start up again

Terrible dreams plague me. They seem to be chasing me from a past unknown to me. In my dream I was an audio witness to the screams of a woman being raped; her cries of help shattered the night's hourglass, and all I did was to stand and listen to the piercing screeches of the woman. I was the only person around; the house was hauntingly familiar; the place too; and though I cannot see it, I know what is going on. What happened? It is difficult to explain. And yet, the discomfort of my aloofness in the dream disturbed me to the very core; it scared me of myself. Yes, that's why I woke up frightened - frightened of my own reaction.

The glass of water trickled down the throat, and perhaps also gave me a feel of myself once again. I was reassured to some extent - at least there is something human about me again. And yet the dream lingers on; it keeps playing back like a re-winded tape that has been repeated to perhaps highlight a particular scene in a movie.

Why? Why is this happening to me?

I don't know.

Perhaps the only person that can answer this question is the dream catcher who went away, leaving behind his trash in my brain to ruin my night.

Maybe the night knows something, but it does not want to answer. Even before I could ask it, dawn broke out, chasing the night away with the answer to my question.


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