“To dream is to awake and to awake is to sleep”…
I’ve read that somewhere and for whatever reason that quote has always stuck with me, I really don’t know what it means or who even said it but the words resonate with my soul. Excuse the theatrics, I was a theater kid so I’ve always had a lingering for some grand entrance. As the title suggest my wife’s new dreamcatcher has completely devastated my sleep cycle, every night, I get a new glimpse into a horrid reality that I which I could avoid. I never believed in spells or curses, definitely not a dream catcher, when my wife first suggested we get one I couldn’t help but scoff; something I could tell bothered her. Though, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I toned it down accepting that this was something she needed since she started having the most dreadful nightmares.
Each night she would wake up practically screaming, trapped in a state of unconsciousness, always staring at the mirror on our dresser. Sometimes it would take me several shakes to snap her out of her delusion, once awake she quickly would jump into my opening embrace; me stroking her long brown hair to calm her. At first I didn’t mind the night terrors since usually it ended with intimate time after she calmed, but after months of it I felt exhausted, sleep deprived to the point of napping on the job; something my boss wasn’t too keen of. This is when I started doing a bit of research of what we could do, I figured it was just ‘sleep paralysis’ so at first I tried telling her to get enough rest; power napping during the day if possible — that she needed to get enough R.E.M sleep. When that didn’t work I had her visit a therapist, thinking she might have repressed memories that needed to be sorted out. After that failed I was at a loss for words but my wife, well, she searched for alternatives and that’s when she found some medicine man and the perfect dream catcher.
Her nightmares began when our dog died a few months back, she was attached to that damn animal, in fact it was originally hers; I personally never liked the dog — since day one it would always bark at me with such viciousness. I pleaded with her to put the dog in the pound but her stubbornness wouldn’t hear of it, so for months I had to put up with the dreadful thing grinding it’s teeth whenever I was in it’s presence. Truth be told when the animal died I felt relief and I remember trying my best to hide my smile when my wife was crying in my arms. Unfortunately this was around the time she had found out I was having an affair, something I’m not proud of, I guess you could say from the perspective of my wife her world was crumbling. So to me it was no surprise that she started having nightmares, I figured it was par for the course, but the dreams she would have were absolutely terrifying. She would talk about the ‘smiling man in the mirror’, the words alone leaving a sinking feeling in my stomach, the mere thought of such an entity existing in the mirror would make anyone’s skin crawl. I assumed that the dreams would casually drift away, that any day she would go back to her bubbly self but instead, she fell further into depression which only exacerbated her night terrors.
During her short lived therapy sessions she was told to depict her nightmares the best she could by drawing them, this is when I first saw the smiling man in the mirror, the demon was out of some Wes Craven movie. A shadow figure that only revealed it’s menacing smile, I told her that it was clearly something she saw in some movie at one time and now it’s come to life in her dreams. Either way, knowing the origins of the monster didn’t stop the nightly visits, so she didn’t focus on it anymore instead she searched for spiritual solutions. I know a thing or two about falling down rabbit holes, this is actually how I met my mistress, in some reddit forum of the bizarre; the attraction was almost instant. So I was fearful for my wife when I saw her clicking link after link, I knew it couldn’t end well and some how she ended up in the land of native Americans — reading about sleep monsters. She was told by some anonymous user that she had to seek out some medicine man who was 100 years old; apparently he was the eldest leader of whatever tribe they were going on about. I could tell how attached she was becoming to this community, the alienation I began to experience was overwhelming, truth be told I just wanted my wife back; I wanted everything back to the way it was before the nightmares. This is when I suggested for us to visit the old man, the sooner I could fix what was wrong with my wife the sooner I could get back to sleeping.
The drive wasn’t fun, the reservation was 3 states over and with the condition my wife was suffering from I had to do all the driving. Occasionally she would fall asleep for a few hours only to awake screaming once catching a glimpse of the side mirror, because of it I had to get rid of it, driving without all mirrors functional is dangerous but I didn’t know what other options we had; my wife waking up in a frantic state was also dangerous. When we had finally arrived my wife looked beyond frail, she looked like she was deteriorating, her skin was pale and dark rings sag underneath her once enchanting eyes. The town folk immediately knew who she was and guided us to him, the elderly man. Like I said before I’m a person of theatrics so when the local tribe escorted us with such panic I knew this was all par for the show, creating a grand spectacle for us to pay whatever price they wanted us to.
I played along while my wife was utterly taken in by these con people, before meeting the elderly man we were prepped with ‘do’s and don’ts’, apparently we had to do whatever was told of us and even more frustrating was the fact that at one point the man would have to meet with my wife alone; something I didn’t feel to comfortable with. When we finally met the man it was a bit underwhelming to say the least, I was expecting a yellow brick scenario to some magically force only to see a short withered man breathing from an oxygen tank. This is when the other tribesman directed her to lay on a table as they started chanting, the smell of incenses was burning my nose and this is when I was told to wait outside the tent we were guided to. My stomach turned inside out from dread not knowing what was going on, moans and chants filled the air while a steady drum beat pounded away at my incoming headache.
Finally after pacing for what felt like hours my wife emerged from behind the tent, funny enough she seemed different; more confident. I could see strength in her body movement but more importantly I saw that twinkle in her eye, the gleaming charm of hope. I thought she would come running into my arms in gratitude of me bringing her here, instead she walked past me and hugged all the tribesman for the help and this is when she was given that abysmal thing; the dreamcatcher. I couldn’t tell what the horrid thing was weaved of, the material looked similar to hair and the charms that were laid throughout it’s mystifying design only gave out a sensation of disgust, but I could tell my wife was happy.
This is when the most bizarre things starting happening, I now blame that damn dreamcatcher, leaving the town I noticed all the dogs were snarling at me; the sounds of those devilish teeth all grinding in unison almost in attempts for us to leave. On the drive home my wife slept most of the way, almost immediately I could see the color returning to her, which I guess brought me comfort, but this is when I started to see him — the smiling man. I would catch him the rearview mirror everyone once and awhile startling me to the point of almost crashing, I knew I had been sleep deprived and now it was catching up to me; even worse I was now seeing the stupid thing from my wife’s dreams. I know about ‘suggestive memories’ and knew that’s what it was, all this silly talk of hocus pocus was now creeping it’s way into my mind, so at least I thought.
As the days passed my wife was slowly returning to normal sleeping long hours with no hint of disturbance while I kept seeing flashes of that horrible man in the mirror. Unlike my wife I didn’t cry out like some baby in the middle of the night, instead, I would calm myself each night understanding it was all just a dream. Though, as the weeks passed my nightmares weren’t just of the smiling man instead I was having memories, memories that I don’t remember ever living and after reflection I eventually realized they were moments in my wife’s life. Some how I was now having my wife’s memories transfer into my subconscious, a reel of dreadful moments played out almost every night, me learning things I wished I didn’t know and on the night’s the memory cinema were closed the smiling man would be there waiting for me in the mirror.
This went on for months, my wife, well she became herself again; bubbly with love and affection, unfortunately that affection wasn’t targeted at me; no she got a new dog one that I despised. Originally I didn’t understand her admiration for dogs and it was only through her memories did I understand why she loved that damn animal so much, apparently her father was abusive, he committed the most hideous acts and all she ever had to comfort her was that dog. This didn’t sway my opinion about the animal but it gave me understanding, I suppose it gave me insight into the woman that I married. Each night I was presented with more of who my wife was or is, why she was the way she was and how she wanted to be loved, honestly I was annoyed by it all. I needed it to stop, I needed for that smiling man to go away and even contemplated going back to the reservation and getting my own dreamcatcher. Before I could even entertain the long drive I fell ill, my body was fading away to almost nothing, I was getting thinner and my skin grew pale. Even in my condition my wife didn’t tend to me, I almost felt like reaching out to my mistress but knew she could care less.
As I morphed into a shell of my former self the nightmares only worsen, the smiling man even showing himself during the day when I would look in the mirror. I had to quit my job or more like they told me not to come back, I couldn’t remember which way it went, either way it didn’t matter I hardly could get out of bed. Luckily, beside the neglect my wife would feed me, making sure I would not go one day without some vital meal, I would tell her how much I loved her only for it to fall on deaf ears. This is when I finally had the most horrific night terror; one where I finally met the ‘smiling man in the mirror’, it wasn’t a memory but it wasn’t a fictional wonderland either.
Like every night I fell into the land of slumber cautiously drifting off as my heavy eyes shut and right away there he was the smiling man in the mirror, somehow I was looking through the mirror at the man and slowly he was coming into focus; the dark silhouette that usually encapsulated him was fading as the shroud of darkness dissipated. That’s when I finally saw him, who he was, to my horror the smiling man was me, it was of me that night slipping thallium and strychnine into the dogs bowl; rat poison — sorry I’ve always been a person of theatrics. I had to, that damn dog is the reason why I got caught cheating, it didn’t recognize the scent of my mistress causing my wife to get suspicious; if I was going to keep my affair going I needed that animal gone. I didn’t realize I was smiling that huge when I was doing it, but I had no other choice. This is when I woke up to the sounds of my wife bringing my dinner, she placed the serving tray around my withered body as I sat up in bed trying my best to shake of the terrifying revelation and that’s when it dawned on me, the dream, it meant she knew it was me. I stared at the food and thoughts of poison danced around my mind as I aimlessly stirred around the stew she had prepared for me and then my eyes cautiously shifted up towards her, my heart sank, that smile, the smile that has been plaguing me for months, it was now coming from her; she was smiling at me.
I don’t know how long my wife has been poisoning me, every day when she brings me my food I pretend to take a few bites but do my best to spit out every drop when she leaves. I don’t have the energy to escape out of bed and anytime I do get up that damn dog of hers growls at me, but even worse the nightmares continue, the smiling man in the mirror won’t leave because it’s no longer the man smiling rather it’s her. I don’t know how much time I have, judge me if you want for my failings but I need someone to help me before it’s too late.