I was a shy and easily frightened child growing up. This did not go well with my very active imagination, and I would often conjure nightmares from my own mind that would never fail to terrify me.
When I was asleep the same nightmare would haunt my dreams. I would most often imagine a particular horror, a terrifying monster that would lurk in my peripheral vision. I could never quite see it in its entirety, all I ever saw was a single burning yellow eye that I always felt was watching me.
I heard it too, it would come every night and creak open the door to my room and slowly step in and walk towards my bed, it had these terrible slow, and deliberate footsteps that always sounded wet somehow. It made a horrible gurgling noise like a person who was drowning. It would look down at me and I was always too afraid to look directly back, I would hold my breath under my covers and stay completely still in suspense of what would happen next.
I would wake up screaming, often waking my parents as well. I was told in two particularly bad instances I had even somehow broken my arm by falling out of bed. Another time I had managed to cut myself on my bed somehow and it was so bad I needed to get stitches.
I remember it wasn’t just the fear of that thing but it was how I always felt so alone and so scared and in my nightmares I forgot everything that made me feel safe. I forgot what was real, forgot my friends, and forgot my family. I was forgetting other things too, a lot of things I was told, possibly due to sleep deprivation.
The nightmares went on for a long time and my parents told me that were very worried about me and thought I might be having some type of particularly severe night terrors or worse some psychological disorder. It had even begun affecting my grades at the time, since I was unable to get any restful sleep before school, never mind how bad my memory had gotten.
I was told that the one thing that eventually worked was not medication or therapy. It was my mother; it was a story that she would tell. The story was about a special place, a place that was far away on an unreachable island. On that island, there was a beautiful body of water called The Pond of Lost Memories. This pond had crystal blue waters, beautiful garden flowers nearby, and a breathtaking view off the coast of the nameless island.
This place, she said was the place where all the memories you forget, both good and bad go, at least until you remember them. She said that if you focused and visualized the pond here and looked into the water with your mind’s eye you would remember whatever it was you had forgotten.
She had told me that whenever I was having a nightmare and felt alone. That I should remember The Pond of Lost Memories, to focus and visualize the pond’s water. Then I would see what I had forgotten and remember. I would remember that I am safe; I would remember I was just dreaming and I would remember that my family would always be there for me.
That had made me feel better and by some miracle over time, I had stopped having the nightmares.
It has been over thirty years since then. I am happily married with a child of my own, a daughter. We are living in the same town I grew up in, close to my parents’ house.
I am only writing this now because something is troubling me. Something that happened that has made me remember something, something terrible that makes me question my own sanity.
I had been helping my daughter do some of her homework and realized she had lost her favorite Kitty pencil again. She had a habit of losing things and I joked that she had as bad of memory as I had at her age.
That got me thinking and I told her a story, a story about The Pond of Lost Memories.
I told her about the far away, unreachable island. I told her about the crystal blue waters, about the beautiful garden flowers nearby, and the breathtaking view off the coast of the nameless island.
I told her that this place she imagined was the place where all the memories you forget, both good and bad go, at least until you remember them.
I told her that if you focused and visualized the pond here and looked into the water with your mind’s eye you would remember whatever it was you had forgotten.
As I told her this I found myself instinctually doing the same just as my mom had told me, then I paused in slowly dawning horror. It had worked; I remembered what I had forgotten too.
I remembered now and what I didn’t tell my daughter was that what I saw in the waters was a single burning yellow eye, and what I remembered was I had never fallen out of my bed as a child. I had never cut myself on it either. No, what I remembered was the monstrous strength it possessed that broke my arm and how sharp its claws were when they cut my skin.
I started to have a minor panic attack and after my daughter found her pencil, she asked if I was okay as she looked at me with concern on her face. I told her I was fine as I forced the horrible memories from my mind, they couldn’t be real I told myself, they were just vivid memories of my nightmares that was all.
That’s what I had been telling myself all day yesterday and what I continued on into that night in my mind like a mantra. It was just my bad dreams, from childhood; I just remembered them that is all. I know that’s all it is, I will be fine, it’s all just bad memories that I had forgotten.
Yes, old memories couldn’t hurt me. It was silly to believe what I thought I had remembered, none of it was real it couldn’t have been. I would put them behind me and forget them again. Forget them just like I had forgotten them before.
My memory was getting bad though, just like back then. I had even forgotten to close the door to my bedroom last night, or had I? Maybe it was my wife, coming in the room late after taking a shower I heard the door creaking open at some point, I thought I remembered hearing her slowly walking over to the bed, but her feet sounded too wet on the floor. Maybe she didn’t dry off enough and her feet were still wet. It had sounded like she was gurgling some mouthwash wash too, though it sounded a little guttural and unpleasant.
I was in a half-asleep state and for some reason, I couldn’t move to look at her. I sat in silence for a while and she hadn’t sat down yet. She had reached out to me, I had also forgotten how strong she was when she grabbed my arm while I was sleeping, and how sharp her nails were.
I know l likely forgot other details of last night as well. What I do remember now today worries me and as I write this account of what happened, it makes me question reality. I had forgotten that my wife is away on a business trip and has been for the last three days.
What is happening to me? This can’t be real. I am worried I am forgetting what is real again. Last night was probably just another bad dream. I would visualize The Pond of Lost Memories to help remind me of what was real and what was not, That is what I will do again, that will help.
I will finish this account of my concerns and my forgotten memories later, I have this terrible pain in my arm from waking up this morning, I hadn’t felt it at first but it looks like I had also forgotten how much my arm hurt from last night as I look down at it now I see a deep bruise with long deep cuts across it. I must have fallen out of bed.