Sunday, July 3, 2011

Praying Up Dreams

Since that last post, I haven't been able to trigger sleep paralysis again. Does anybody out there have any suggestions?
I know you can do it by setting your alarm clock in the early morning for a few days to get used to waking up. And my sister says that if she takes a nap in the middle of the day, she will most likely get sleep paralysis later that night.

I need to know how to turn it on and off. I can't get anywhere if I can get anywhere.

I actually thought that it might happen last night. I spent the majority of yesterday in the city and came back home kind of late. Fell asleep for a while, then woke up. Sadly, I couldn't fall asleep again until after 6 am, and then the most that happened was I had a weird dream and woke up thinking there was a man hanging on my door.

This doesn't usually happen, but when 5:30 rolled around, I thought of praying the rosary. So I took it off of my shelf and began. It helped me fall asleep (actually, I started dozing off halfway through, but wanted to finish it). Throughout the decades, my mind started making up words and rhymes, as if starting a dream. Some of my silent prayers came out like this:

Hail Mary, full of grace,
27, 28, 29.
What? No.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
The Lord is with the man in the race.
Something's wrong there. Too many words....

Holy Mary, Mother of God,
Prey: fortune singer's
mouse in the owl's mouth of the dog....

It took a lot of effort to think the right words without moving my lips.

When I finally fell asleep,
I sat up in bed and went to the other room. An other room. There were kids playing in the street of my old house, mostly girls but with a guy or two. They didn't seem older than freshmen in high school, and it was late outside. One of the girls let out what sounded like a genuine cry for help, so I ran down the stairs of my new house and went to the door.
I'd just barely touched the deadbolt when I heard the sound of scraping metal on the other side.
A key? Not just any key. But also not the one for this lock.
Voices outside broke the silence of a moment as the children whispered to each other. I started to back away from the door and meant to run up the steps like a ninja when I heard,
"Hahaha, hey! Psst!"
I stopped on the second step.
Tap-tap-tap. "Hey, I see you! Come over here...."
I heard that smile in her voice and knew I shouldn't turn around, but I did anyway. A girl was staring at me through the old glass window that wasn't covered by the blinds, teeth and eyes glinting in the moonlight. Please don't think to break it....
"Let us in. Unlock the door. We can see you."

All I really wanted to do was pull down the shade so that they were gone, but I was afraid of what might happen if I got too close, so I ran up the stairs, tripping on my way. Why are stairs always right in front of the door? I could be dead.
"MATT, CALL 9-1-1. NOW."

When I picked myself up and got to the second floor, I was in a combination of both my old and new house. I was on my way to the room at the end of the hall, where Matt was, when I saw Mom was in the old master bedroom, watching TV with kids.
The kids who were outside.
They were fine. They were nice.
But I didn't trust them because of how they watched me.

I opened my eyes in the morning and looked at my door.
There is a man there. Impossible, but he's half there and half not. Why is he so flat? But that's a man....
I took a picture with my cell phone to remind myself what I saw, thought about my dream and remembered hiding my family in a tiny alley lined with hidden doors on the left wall. Shiel was the farthest away from me, wanting to know if she should keep moving forward or if we should stop and listen to Anjel's suggestion of opening one of the red doors. I was thinking --
When I woke up again, I stared at the man some more. His head was tilted backwards and he had a nice shadow for half of his face. I should take a picture of this for later....
What did I dream? Something about Matt... Was I yelling? Or hiding in a small street with him? Kids.... I had a key, and was knocking on a red door....

I refuse to move in the morning when I can't remember my dreams. It came to me slowly, and then I realized that it was 11 am; that's enough sleep.
Now as for the man on my door. I never took a picture, but he was still there. So I made sure to really do it this time.
He's dead, like my clothes. He is my clothes. I know that.
I took a picture, put on my glasses, and didn't understand how I saw that at all.

No comments:

Post a Comment