Broken by Dreams
When I was little I had one reoccurring dream, I don't remember a time in my life when it wasn't always there in the back of my mind. Describing it always seems silly because it was absolutely terrifying but when put into words it loses all effect.
Everything was white.
Not so much the color but that it was so bright all color was destroyed and "white" is the only descriptive word left. You couldn't see where you were. What you were standing on. Or even your hand in front of your face. I could move but nothing changed and after so many dreams I stopped trying to find an escape. There was none.
In some dreams there was a voice. Not something you could understand, almost a Peanuts Adult sound, only this was very deep and so slow you couldn't understand anything but intent... and it was chilling. Time didn't move the same here. The dream itself was probably only a flash but it felt like I was stuck there for ages.
I don't know how often I had this dream. Often enough that it is seared into my memory. Even now I can remember every second spent there, every moment of terror spent petrified, and every time I'd wake up relieved to be in my bed. I haven't had this dream in over a decade. I don't know what changed.
Recently I've been having a new reoccurring dream. This one started about 20 years ago.
The dream itself can start in a million different ways or just takes over whatever dream I'm currently having. It's almost always happy. Then at some point I remember, it's like a cartoon lightbulb turning on above my head and instantly whatever dream I'm in is covered in shadow.
My father is alive.
He's so sick that no one knows how he's still holding on.
He's been like this for so long that everyone has forgotten about him.
Life moves on, he's in bed, no one gives him a second thought.
I haven't seen him in years.
This one isn't terrifying like the white dream but every time I wake after this one I'm right back to where I was 20 years ago when my Mom sat down on my bed the morning after my Dad died. She didn't have to say anything. I knew and everything inside me broke. After 20 years I imagined I'd be healed but all it takes is one dream and I'm 17 again. My insides held together by tape that's been left in the sun too long, crumbling.
When I was younger I couldn't imagine anything worse than that white room, stuck listening to that voice I couldn't understand.
Now, I would love for that have that be the only dream I had more than once.
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