Last Nightmare.

I had a particularly disturbing dream last night so I thought it would be an interesting idea to write it down for you folks to enjoy.

First of all, it seems to me that no one can say definitively what dreams actually are.

Are they just the mind telling us something?

It doesn't always feel that way.

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Source: Pixabay.com

Last Nightmare

I woke up in the community bed. There must have been about 20 of us. Probably more, but I could count about 20 from where I was laying.

The huge bed seemed to sprawl out forever. It was laden with sheets, pillows, and comforters as far as the eye could see. All of them were a shining shade of white, as if we slumbered on a giant lake of freshly fallen snowflakes.

My arms were wrapped around my beautiful wife. I was madly in love with her.

Long blonde hair tied in braids flowed down her back and rested softly against my chest. As we slept, I could feel the heat of her breath reflect back onto me as it bounced off a nearby comforter's edge.

I was very content to be here. I can't completely express my love for her to you, but I can say that she was wrapped around every single piece of me. Every fiber of my being was embedded with her eyes, her lips, her face.

She was my light and my life.

Even as I knew this, I wondered who she was. Some part of me was here, in the body that wasn't mine. Some part of ME was here. The real me, the dreamer, the narrator, the origin. So who am I?

I really don't know what is going on. I know that something is wrong, but I am content to be with her, so I just sleep.

Suddenly she screams out.

"Mother, father, my hands! My hands!"

I look at the palm of her hands and I see that they are covered in little white crystals.

This is my fault. Somehow I know that it is. I look to my own hands and they are also covered in the very same white gems.

Her mother and father are also sleeping with us in this giant bed. They climb over several people haphazardly and pull off her tiny pink sleeping shirt in one fell motion.

The pores on her arms, chest, and stomach are seeping some kind of clear white fluid. Everyone is sobbing.

I know that my body is covered in the same substance, and I am deeply ashamed. I have killed her. In some way that I don't understand, I have ended her life.

There are no hospitals on this planet.

I don't even know where we are, but of this fact I am quite sure.

Now I'm standing in a small barren apartment.

There is a telephone, of sorts, and a computer terminal..... though it is unlike anything I've ever seen.

Her parents are trying madly to find a way to get their daughter some help.

I know that they will be unsuccessful.

I know that I will lose her, and the pain is immeasurable.

I don't know who this person is. I don't know whose body I am inside, but I can feel his thoughts and mine.

He believes that he has caused her demise.

I feel it too, as a flood of bitter tears stream down my face.

I want to wake up.

Wake up.

WAKE UP!!

The alarm clock is ringing so I reach over and give it a smack.

Wiping my wet face, I get out of bed and get ready for work.

Right before I walk out the door I remember a dream that I had last night, so I quickly write it down.

This, dear reader, is that dream.

Goodnight, and thank you.