- Category: Roger Bicknell
- Created on Wednesday, 19 March 2008 00:00
I often send this one out at this time of year. I really should have sent it out last week...
It was written (as far as I know) by Roger Bicknell
The scene opens with a bright light in the distance shining straight into your eyes, illuminating almost nothing about but casting eerie shadows all around you. Cue the X-Files music. You're standing on an unpaved road; brush is large and close in on all sides. You turn from the light and are looking straight down the road; you see a vast stream of demonic red eyes floating in the breeze, lazily floating away from you. You can now make out that the piercing redish light shines from your left through a forest of trees. In front of the forest stands, large and looming, beings. Of what nature you cannot tell. Suddenly you find yourself helplessly reacting to the swell of adrenaline surging through your body. You're being watched, considered. You want to run but can feel no escape. You can't breathe. You feel the mindless animal panic. Is that a sound? Was there some movement? You freeze, poised to dart at the hint of an attack. You listen more carefully than you ever thought possible. You stop trying to breathe, but the pounding of your heart is still too loud. You perceive that the beings, hideous beings having huge heads with wild snake-like hair and thin disfigured bodies, are deciding something. Suddenly you scream in terror and pain! You bolt upright in your own bed, sweat covering your body, and you wail frantically and with complete abandom until you realize that you are safe at home and it was just the night terrors again.
Pffft. Just another night. Might as well get up and watch abit of the tube. Maybe eat something. Sigh. The mind starts to wander... I can almost see the dream... standing on the road... Oh God! I can feel the feeling of being watched by those hideous monsters in the dark. I can feel the hate that they exude. Yeesh. Maybe I should drink some milk.
Been having this dream reoccuring for a couple of weeks now. Wonder if it might mean something. Sure, I've been under a lot of stress lately. This week was particularly bad. I wonder what those evil creatures might be; what they stand for (perhaps). Maybe they are fragments of pressures and disappointments, frustrations. I wonder if their shape is relevent. Large heads... Medusa hair, branching out wildly in all directions - kinda gives them a squidlike essence. And they just stand there - although I can *feel* that they are performing their wickedness. Hmmp, dunno.
Morning comes and I feel exhausted. Gee, don't remember the last good sleep that I've had. Oh well, get up and face the day. Feel a little depressed, kind of a low lying sadness. Hmmm, never mind boy, get to it. Psychoanalysis can wait.
Saturday night I drove out to dinner at James place. The food was good, as usual, and the talk was fun and welcomed. However I kept to myself a most frightening experience. I never let on. I was cool and relaxed. You see... I experienced the dream while awake just before arriving for the dinner party. It shook me to my bones. Now, I don't mean that I saw the images again, in some kind of Mind's Eye. I mean I was there and They were there - in reality!
Yup. I was driving down South West Marine Drive. The sun was setting in the sky, kind of a soft reddish yellow ball, illuminating the sky and the trees on my left as I followed the never ending trail of red taillights ahead of me. Suddenly the image dawned on me. I froze, grabbing the steering wheel hard enough to crush it in my hands. I sloooooowly looked to the left. I could feel them there. I turned to come face to face with their satanic ugliness.
OH MY GAWD!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! They were just standing there. Cherry Trees! The whole damn !@#$ street was lined with them in full bloom. Oh Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo !!!!!
It's *that* time of year. My concentration fades. Deprived of (REM) sleep; unable to breathe ;unable to focus or concentrate on even the simplest things. Feeling the constant heaviness of their evil. Who will save me from this hellish torment? Who will ease the strain of their torture? Until my Redeemer appears I plan to drink heavily (hey, it's a plan).