This is the frantic typing of a dream I had. I wanted to get it down as soon as I woke up one day, so there exists no capitalization, grammatical intelligence, or organization of any kind. I will one day come back to editing it, but today is just a share day. Being that my dreams for the passed few days have resembled this one, here it is:

“I believe in everything until it’s disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it’s in your mind. Who’s to say that dreams and nightmares aren’t as real as the here and now?”

~John Lennon

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Was that a bat? i turned my head off my pillow as the swooshing sounds of wings whistled over my head.

“Nah”

i closed my eyes and continued to pray for restlessness to leave me. the sounds of wings pumped heavily over my head but i dismissed it to fear and loneliness. another sound broke free into the darkness of my room. a slithering hiss came closer and closer until the fear popped me out of the empty king size bed and toward the light switch.

Nothing.

it was always nothing. it was always my mind laughing at the how present my body is in the now. back to bed- where the serpent strapped my arms down as we fell.

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the bed sank and swirled and dropped so quickly and so far into an open vaccum. there was a bellow in my belly but i didn’t scream. i didn’t scream. i never screamed. i swallowed it and closed my eyes so tight until the bed and i were no longer.

it was cold and hot and moist and dry and dark and light and i couldn’t breathe.

i was no longer in the comfort of my own bed, my own apartment, my own mind.

shades of blood and brass filled my eyes and i didn’t understand what i was seeing.

a beautiful star filled sky lay atop my head but it seemed so far away. sweltering in the coldest hole, enclosed amidst the lowest valley, ambushed by the highest peaks, i feared for myself, wondered where i was and what i have done to deserve this. this? this was nothing.

i tore my hands over and over on the snaggy edges of the mount. bloodied and dirty i did not give up. one foot steady. one hand secure. one foot push. one hand reach. push. push. push. the blood ran down my elbow and dripped into the crater i fell into. i heard the droplet plummet and collapse into the grave i would never defeat, but still i tried. still i climbed. and still, i accomplished nothing.

the crimson edges laughed at me. “Where are you trying to go, girl? There is no top, there is no out. You can climb forever if you want.”

I slid, I fell, I tore, I cried, I climbed, but never once did I even get close. There wasn’t a close. There wasn’t anything. until she fell into oblivion the same way I did. out of no where.

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i tried to approach her. i tried to speak. she didn’t hear. i spoke louder. nothing. i walked closer. she didn’t see me. i kept going, into a bit of a sprint but something stopped me. something invisible. a glass case that smashed my face and bloodied my nose. i wiped it and banged on the glass but nothing. she saw nothing. she heard nothing. there was nothing in her eyes but defeat. no fight. no primal desire to live. just pain, destruction and defeat. and right there cracked a memory in my brain.

There they were. the large paws of a human bear tearing me from the inside out. a glimmer in his eye and a smirk on his mouth as the satisfaction of destroying the innocence of a 10 year old girl poked through the green and blue stripped collared shirt i was wearing. breast-less and beady-eyed, they stayed closed. and i didn’t scream. i never screamed. i just held in it until i was no longer part of myself.

Another flash. Another crack. Another slap to my face and words yelled at me to never accuse anyone of such ghastly lies again.

Glazed over in bed there are the paws that so quietly creeped in while i slept. Paws that groped and grabbled and manipulated the root of my very existence. So silently lurking in the darkness, worming into the future sexuality i would forever deny, the satisfaction of stirring a child’s chest was evident in his gaping mouth and glassy eyes. I slept with the door locked, where the nightmares stayed out from that night on.

Back in the hole, I lay keeled over in my own vomit and reality. Tears washing the dirt and flushing away the pain I never screamed about. I begged for her to see me. But all i saw were flashes of her tears, hiding in a cave, holding her motionless baby in the cold. My stomach writhed. My heart mauled. My eyes, fixed on the woman who gave up. I lost my childhood, she lost her child. And here we are strapped in the depths of hell paying for the sins of others.

i gave up for the night. i gave up on hope and faith. i gave up on anything good in the world. i gave up on justice and held on to fear. fear that i would live like this forever.

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i woke up in a panic. could have been 12 hours or 12 minutes, but i woke up remembering a white rose and an open casket. i looked around to see a man who would never see me, hear me, help me. He looked as absent as the woman i tried to scream out for. i didn’t try this time. i closed my eyes only to see this beautiful blonde woman smile and cry and smile and cry. he locked her up in an asylum. he picked her up, and she killed herself that night and wrote this on the mirror: This is for you. she lay blue in the taupe stoned bathroom. he found her and buried her. and lost his mind in the process. I let out  a single tear for him and one for her. she couldn’t be helped, but he didn’t get that.

I remembered myself on the cold floor one night. Begging, pleading, holding on to every shred of love i had for the man i married. This memory was voluntary. Not like the shredded moments haunting my mind for however long I’ve been here, flashing and cutting through my sanity so silently. Popping in and out forcing seizing and twitching, pleading for a moment of clear cut throat reality. I had lost control but this,  this one I chose to remember.

It was the end, only i didn’t believe it. He hurt me that night. with his words, with his hands, with his actions. and nobody helped. Nobody ever helped when the fire breathing dragon took his path.

I sat back, against the spiny darkness of the mountain i couldn’t climb; knees bent, head hanging forward. I too was defeated.

I was defeated when i learned the name of the woman who had to endure 47 men tear her apart. She watched her 9 year old son be raped by the same 47 men. Her mother hanged. Her father speared. Her husband’s heart cut out and made into a sacrificial soup. Jesnelle. Jesnelle. Jesnelle.