RECURRING CHILDHOOD NIGHTMARE:
My childhood bedroom speaks nothing but safety and childlike wonder:
Walls the shade of egg shells on the top half
The bottom half a muted pink
Lined in the middle with a thick strip of wallpaper
With alternating images of magenta hearts
And cheerful teddy bears
Arms wide open
As if thrilled to embrace you
At bedtime, my five year old self lays my head
on a small mountain of stuffed animals
all must be included on the bed so none will feel left out
The puffy down comforter draped over my little body
striped with the same magenta as the hearts on the wall
Trimmed with lace around the edges
Trails lightly between my fingers
in a rhythm akin to a mother rocking her baby in a chair
As my fingers slide over the fine fabric
back and forth
Back and forth
Back and forth
my eyelids become heavier and heavier
and the brushstrokes of my eyelashes make their final stride
as I drift lazily into sleep
I am awoken in a sweat
beads like pearls trailing down my flushed cheeks
The taste of pennies touch the tip of my tongue
My eyes open to the moon spilling through the window
The bright orb shines through like a spotlight
As if beckoning for me to look down to where she is pointing
Before I lower my gaze to where she is directing
I hear a voice that sounds like my dad’s
But it’s hollow like a fire stricken redwood tree
It’s raspy like someone who smokes 10 packs a week for thirty years
As I peer over the edge of my bed, I see an arm of a man
Wearing the same sleeve as the pale gray crewneck sweater my dad wears
nearly 4 times a week
But this arm does not belong to my dad
The voice speaks horsely “Come down here. I’m here for you”
As the voice repeats the statements
I see a dark liquid pool at the shoulder
Then rush like a river of crimson red amongst the gray canvas
My jaw unhinges from it’s natural state
And I scream as loud as I can
But the scream does not come
My mouth open as wide as a cave you’re unsure of where it ends
But just like you can’t see the end point of the cave
My voice cannot be found either
I try again and again
And attempt to shout “help”
But silence cannot reverberate off the teddy bear wallpaper
What feels like forever
And maybe it is
Or maybe it’s within seconds
The lights of the room are flicked on
The spotlight of the moon disappears
And the bloody arm with it
And in the doorway stands my dad
My real dad
Wearing a pale gray crewneck sweater
Clean of any blood soaked arm
Voice of a man whose never smoked a day in his life
A fullness in his conviction as he scoops me in his arms
Pulls me tightly into his warm barrel like chest
And whispers to me:
“It’s okay beepers. It was a nightmare.
Come down here. I’m here for you.”
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