Perhaps it's because I'm getting into my writings again. Perhaps it's because I'm growing as an adult and can accept myself for all my flaws and simple desires because it makes me happy. Perhaps it's because I have begun a personal project of growth and have taken up my art again after years of not daring to touch it. Or perhaps it is another reason entirely.
For months now I have been plagued off and on by nightmares and night-terrors of the worst kind. Some I remember, some I have blocked, and some I have simply forgotten. But the last three nights I have almost not slept in the least.
Let me say that I don't care if I'm the only one who reads this ever, but I need to write them somewhere that I feel I won't be judged, as I may be on facebook by family or friends, and somewhere where I am not hiding them like if I were to write them in a word-doc.
Two nights ago, I dreamed that the family who owns our home and rents it to us fell behind on the payments and lost the house, but they did not tell us until we had but a weak left before our eviction.
We found out only because a police officer came by to let us know that they could no longer get in contact with our landlords and were coming to tell us of the eviction date one week away. So, we of our house of ten members packed everything we could and left what we couldn't. On the last night we had in our beautiful home, fireworks went off for the 4th of July. I didn't know what was to become of my family, but I could see that this was a time my family chose to begin breaking apart from the...well I suppose the main colony where my family has always been together. My sister and her new husband had already found and begun moving into their new home in another city, but they helped us find a place to store everything until we could find a new home for it. My brother was taking his girlfriend and moving to another state where he could work in the career path he was starting. As for my husband and I, we decided to begin our new lives...in a new home...just the two of us. We spent what savings we had to secure a house for my mother, my grandmother, and my two sisters who are still children. It was not finished building yet so they moved into an apartment complex, but Parker and I could not afford it and we would not tell mom that we spent every penny we had on her house so we slept in our car and left everything we owned that we couldn't fit in the car with her until we could afford a place to live.
I just remember lying there in my car with the windows cracked, so numb from crying for a week that I didn't feel anything. It was a numbness I had never felt before. I wasn't depressed, or scared, or angry, but my heart was longing.... I heard my cats crying and yowling from their carriers in the back seat and I just wondered what I was going to do. Parker was lying awake in the passenger side and he had the same look on his face. Somewhere someone was lighting fireworks off but they weren't the big skyrockets we had seen while driving away from our home for the last time. But I knew there was hope...yes, we were living in our car, we were broke, we had almost nothing, but we both had jobs, and a working car. So I knew...it would be alright in time.
When I woke up I just felt such a heaviness that I was inclined to pack away some of the things I had been unpacking and just get things a little more organized. I don't really believe something like that will happen, but it put into perspective that maybe I don't need to unpack these things until I have my own home after all.
Last night nothing was right.
I dreamed that I, not really being me this time, had fallen in with a group of seven or nine people who were all living in an old abandoned hospital. They took odd jobs here and there as a sort of mercenary group. I grew very attached to them over the next few years. What they did not know however was that I was not...quite alive I suppose. I mean I was fully living, but I had a foot in the door of death, and thus could see and interact with the spirit realm that sat like a veil over the world, like a second skin; there but unseen by most. This was due to the fact that I had drowned in a pool or lake or something when I was a child. I had only been dead a few moments but it was enough. So in jobs regarding ghosts and spiritual oppression I generally led. But one thing I had learned was that fate was sealed. Once some things had gotten to a certain point there would be no stopping them. An example would be that if I had been old enough around the time of 9/11, I could have stopped the travesty if I was able to keep the terrorists from boarding the plane. But the moment they stepped on those planes the fates of everyone on board were already sealed. If that makes sense.
So, one night I'm wandering without sleep through the hospital and a shadowy wraith stepped through the wall about twenty or so feet down the hall. He is distinctly human in feature, but he is bald and his skin is liquid paper white, almost translucent, and he has strikingly angular features, almost gaunt in appearance. His eyes are a gray blue, not at all threatening but his presence made my skin crawl.
He was dressed in black rags that hung from him like wet cloth, and he was all hunched over and leaning on a long staff. As I approached and he turned to me, he told me my time with my friends was over. I of course believed he was there to kill me but I did not react right away, and so he continued speaking. He told me that someone had paid to have all seven of my friends murdered and had preformed a very dark sacrificial ritual, for they were the main meat of our group. The other two were too young to really be part of the group and I was a later addition they didn't care about. They wanted them dead. Then the being revealed himself as the death that comes to those who die unnaturally. Not the death one falls into when they slip away in their sleep or pass away from an accident. This was the bringer of death to those who were murdered.
I tried to plead for their lives, to beg for him to leave, but he told me it was too late. He had already entered the building and so their fate was sealed. No bargain could I make, and should I try to warn my sleeping companions of their impending doom I would join them in suffering and into death. Then he held up a hand and I saw that his fingers were unnaturally long, especially the last segment that houses the nail. That portion was easily double the size it should have been and the nail was just as long, though it started where a nail would on a person. I watched as the top three quarters of his thumbnail suddenly began to turn black and purple and then it fell away, leaving him with an average human thumbnail. His thumb was bloodied and blackened as if he had smashed it. Then before my eyes his thumb began to draw in and harden until it looked very much like a nail itself, and then his nail began to grow again until it met with the bloodied disfigured thumb and turned it suddenly into a very long talon of a nail. Rounded on the sides and very flat and jagged up top. I was terrified of its sheer size and thickness, for it looked almost like a knife sitting on the edge of his thumb. He grinned a wide and toothy smile that was too perfect for the dark specter. He told me it was a beautiful tool that had claimed more than one life, and that it was surprisingly easy to end a life with just his nail. "How frail and weak your bodies are," he told me, "that I can end it with nothing but a nail." Then he proceeded to show me by running his nail across his own throat and slitting the skin. Blackened blood pooled out and rolled down his chest, then it pooled in his mouth and down his chin until it looked like a nasty bloody fountain. And all the while he grinned at me. I stood there turned to stone and unable to look away. I remember feeling very cold and angry and very helpless, which seemed to egg him on, though I did not say a word. In a moment the blood and cuts were gone, and he told me that barring that, his nail was excellent for a single strong stab to the throat, and that his victim would drown in their own blood before they would be able to scream for help. Then he looked upward toward the room where my companions slept. He said it was time, and smiled at me again, but this time his beautifully perfect teeth had changed into pearly fangs that gleamed in the moonlight, each a horrific point. Perfect for tearing throats and hearts out he told me. Then he said "sleep well, little bird" and disappeared in shadow. Not a few moments later I heard horrific screaming and gurgled howls for help above me. I heard monstrous growls and the tearing of flesh and the snapping of bones, so I ran. As fast as I could I ran down and away from that place, but the cries only grew louder. So I jumped from a window into a canal of water that ran by the hospital. As I floated down the river clutching debris I could still hear the screams of my friends growing steadily further away, until finally there was silence. A dark wisp of vapory shadow blew away from the hospital, and I knew it was over...my friends were all dead and there was not a thing I could do about it.