For as long as I can remember, I have been haunted by this recurring nightmare…
I awake to what seems to be solid gray all around me, “what’s going on?!” I think to myself. I feel the blood flow through my body and my heartbeat in my ears as the panic sets in. My body shaking, I feel an overwhelming sense of doom, and I know something’s coming. But I don’t know what. I run as fast as I can to the bathroom, feeling my way along the walls as I stumble in the dark hallway. “I must reach the light switch!” It’s the only thing I can think of to halt the feeling of terror. I frantically swat at the switch with my hand, but it’s not working, no light. The terror I feel doesn’t feel natural, and not at all unwarranted. This terror feels all too real, aware, and intelligent. I know I’m not alone in the dark.
Before I can fully process the presence with me, or even consider another course of action I’m violently flipped around, off my feet, by…a force, something I can’t explain. The force lifts me off the ground and drags me back to the bedroom, my head tossed back, and a rush of wind hits my face as I am flung through the air. An otherworldly, inhuman scream pierces my ears, whatever it is, it’s making its presence – and its hate known to me. I struggle to focus through watery, dilated eyes into the dark gray, I see it. Not something, not really, rather the lack of something, a break in the gray darkness, a formless form barely illuminated by the stray rays of moonlight entering the window. I don’t know if it has eyes, but I know it’s staring at me, hating me, hurting me. I can smell it, smell its breath as it screams at me. The putrid smell of rotting meat, this thing is repulsive, disgusting, I can’t move as the smell overwhelms me. I begin to vomit as it begins to mutter inaudible words at me. I can’t understand the words, but I can feel the disdain in them.
I am frozen, overwhelmed by fear, powerless as I stare at its transparent formless visage, pinned by the relentless hatred it directs at me. This thing grabs me again, and hurls me through the air, through the window. My ears ring as glass shatters around me, broken shards burning my skin, cold night air cooling the cuts. Everything goes black. I wake in a shock, fighting and gasping for air, feeling enveloped by cold darkness. Adrenaline rushing through me, I’m in a pool, a swimming pool, I see the yard, the ladder, I swim for freedom. I lie on the grass, cold, wet, hurting. I try to regain my composure, and realize I know this pool, this yard, this house. I grew up here, I swam in this pool with my cousins, my uncle always stayed in that garage, so many memories and hints of memories long forgotten rush through my mind. I should be relieved, finally somewhere safe, but I’m not. This place disgusts me, I hate this place. I walk toward the garage, the fear of the surrounding darkness dulled by the overwhelming numbness I feel inside. As though that same gray darkness I awoke to is now gnawing at me from within. I must escape, I cannot be here, I have to leave. I remember I can go through the garage, out the kitchen door and make my way to the driveway, to the road, to anywhere but here.
As I enter the garage all light seems to be gone, only the smell of rotten meat and the sounds of my hands patting the walls for guidance exist to fill the emptiness. I reach the kitchen door, I hear them. Voices, familiar voices, my mom, my aunts. They’re laughing, cackling almost. “She must have provoked him.” “He’d never do this on his own!” “Of course, she’s to blame.” “Let him ruin her, let him be her problem now, easier for us that way.” They laugh and jeer amongst themselves. One of my cousins even chimes in “Better her than me!” and is met with uproarious laughter. Is this all I am to them? All I was? A plaything for their pet monster? A sacrificial lamb to ensure their little secret didn’t disturb their dinner party? Why me? What did I do? Why would they pick me, why would it…or he?
Before I can react the door flies open, light from within the house floods the garage, and that putrid thing stands before me. It’s not a thing now, it’s a man, covered in filth and stench, wearing the same outfit he always wore. I want to move but I can’t, I feel so small, almost like I’m a little girl again. I can’t move, he tells me my clothes are wet and I need to get out of them, he’ll give me something dry to wear. I don’t want new clothes, I don’t want out of these clothes, I don’t want his help. I look to my family behind him as they cheer and laugh “She’s all yours, get her if you want!” they scream. They’re no help, they won’t help, they think it’s my fault. I feel a hand, his hand, he reaches out to touch me. I feel so sick, everything is getting so dark, I just want to hide.
And then I wake up.
I’ve often wondered why my family ostracized me, why it was so easy for me to leave them all behind once I became an adult. I wondered why I was always haunted by that putrid demon. I think, after writing this down, I understand that the real demon isn’t the thing haunting my nightmares, the true demons are the people who sacrificed me in the first place.