It Was A Dream

“It was all a dream,” said Clyde.

“Are you alright? You sounded like you were in pain,” said Mary, his wife for over thirty years.

“I don't remember. It was awful. That’s all I know.”

Mary rubbed his arm with sympathy. Now that he was awake, he decided to go downstairs to make coffee. He’d never be able to go back to sleep and didn’t want to disturb his wife trying.

The dreams were getting more and more strange and he wished he could remember them. Clyde read somewhere that if you talked about your dreams it helped them to dissipate. How he wished he could remember them. It was driving him crazy. Even his wife.

Sometimes he wondered if they were a side effect of his medication, but decided it would have happened sooner if that was the case. Mary nagged him constantly to talk to his doctor about it, but didn’t like going through all that trouble and believed it would work itself out.

Descending the stairs, he thought he heard a noise coming from the kitchen and paused to listen. When he didn’t hear it again, he continued.. At the bottom of the stairs he paused to rub the pain out of his knee due to the arthritis. He thought he caught something shooting across the doorway of the kitchen through his peripheral.

“Who’s there?”

When he got no response, he assumed it was a mix of the early hour and his medications having an adverse effect. Walking with no hurry in his heart, he finally made it to the doorframe of the kitchen and found the lightswitch. Once he flicked it on, he saw a woman sitting at the table. Approximately in her mid thirties, with light brunette hair, she looked familiar, but Clyde couldn’t figure out why.

“Who are you? How the hell did you get in my house?”

The woman only smiled. The sound of footfalls so faint Clyde didn’t notice through the anxiety he now felt, were upon him before he realized.

“Who are you talking to?”

So unaware that his wife had arrived, he jumped against the wall.

“You frightened me.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“The woman at the kitchen table.”

Mary’s eyebrows lifted as she looked at her husband in a way that made her question his sanity.

“Near the stove.”

Mary turned her head to look in the direction her husband indicated and saw an empty kitchen.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes. You can't see her?”

“I see no one.”

“I recognize her, but I'm not sure from where.”

Mary gestured to the chair in front of the stove. Clyde turned to look and his eyes grew large from disbelief. He turned back to his wife.

“I swear she was sitting right there. I’m not crazy.”

“I think you need to come back to bed. You need to rest.”

“Mary. I am fine.”

“Between the medicine and the dreams I think you’re sleep deprived. I think you’re hallucinating.”

“I’m not.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed.”

“I don’t want to. I am fine,” he said more sternly as she pulled him along.

Yanking his arm out of her grasp, he stopped in his tracks.

“Mary! Damn it woman! Will you listen to me? I’m fine.”

Placing her hand on her chest and a look that said she had been insulted, she huffed a breath of disbelief.

“Fine. Then I guess I'll go back upstairs by myself.”

She turned and walked toward the stairs without giving him a second glance. He watched her go, but was instantly remorseful. He had never raised his voice to her. Not wanting to correct himself yet he turned to the chair where the mysterious woman had been sitting and wondered where she could have gone. There was one entrance to the kitchen and he and his wife had been arguing within it. Trudging to the coffee maker, he now decided he needed more than before.

“Hello, again. Remember me?” the woman smiled at him menacingly.

“Who are you? How did you get into my house?”

The woman began to circle him slightly amused at his ignorance.

“You invited me. You don’t remember?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Concentrate. I bet you can figure it out,” she smiled bemused.

Clyde watched her circle him before she paced back the other direction. She leaned into his space. Noses almost touching. He tried to reach up to push away enough to put space between them and found that his hands were tied behind him. Tugging on the restraints he expelled a sound of frustration.

“What have you done to me?”

“What you deserved.”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to. Could you fill me in?”

The woman chuckled as she pulled away from him.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Concentrate. I think you’ll figure it out.”

The woman remained standing in front of Clyde. As he stared at her trying to figure out who or what she was, her face transformed into a grotesque, long-nosed, hairy, warty one. Recoiling from the sight, Clyde closed his eyes.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” he whispered.

After waiting for something to happen and nothing did, he opened his eyes. As the sweat began rolling down the side of his face, he caught eye contact. She made a quick gesture he couldn't see. He gasped.

She opened her mouth and let her tongue unroll into a three inch fork. The woman hissed causing Clyde to tremble. She started toward him again. He closed his eyes and waited for his ugly demise.

Bolting upright in bed, he covered his face with his hands noticing he was covered in sweat. Struggling to catch his breath, he tried not to disturb his wife. He tried to take breaths to slow his breathing before he woke Mary, but it was too late.

“Clyde?”

“It was just a dream.”

“I think you should go to the doctor to find out why you keep having them. They could be serious.”

“Mary! You’re such a nag. Can’t you just leave me be?”

Aghast, Mary let him leave the room without forcing the issue further. Placing a hand on his eyebrows and sighing, he’s not sure why he’s so irritable. Slowly standing he made his way to the kitchen not yet ready to apologize.

After he finally made his way down the stairs, he noticed it was unusually dark. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs trying to determine what happened.

“Mary? Are you down there?”

Thinking that she had somehow passed him from the back stairwell.

Turning toward the living room, he noticed one solitary light on that shone like a spot light making it hard to focus. It appeared to be the lamp at the end of the couch and assumed his wife decided to not sit in the dark, which she was wont to do when she was upset.

“Mary. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so short.”

When he didn’t get a response he entered the room to look at his wife and saw no one. He looked around to see if maybe she was sitting somewhere off in the corner sulking, but with the combination of the bright light and his old eyes he couldn't tell.

“Mary, if you're in here I want to apologize.”

Turning in a circle to try and locate her without stumbling, because she hated when he turned on the ceiling light, when she wanted to be left alone. When he made it back around to the ominous glow and he was startled when he saw the woman again.

“We meet again Clyde.”

“Who are you?”

“Your worst nightmare.”

“What do you want from me?”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Figured out what?” Why are you being so vague?”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you. You already know who I am.”

“I don’t know who or what you are. Or what you want me to do.”

“Concentrate. You can figure it out.”

An image flashed across his mind quickly. Almost too quick to catch it. Realization flicked across his face as he figured out why he knew the woman and like a light switch being flicked off she was gone. Clyde scanned the rooms around him to assess where she went and how she got by him and became more confused than ever.

Standing in the hallway, he was lost in his thoughts and wasn’t aware his wife had returned.

“Clyde? What’s wrong? What happened? You look as pale as death.”

“I’m not sure Mary.”

She took his hand and led him to the couch. He let her. Clyde knew she was only concerned for him. He removed his glasses and rubbed his hand over his face, no longer able to differentiate between reality and fantasy.

Clyde was racing through the woods. He couldn’t see what was chasing him. His breathing and heart rate were elevated. He felt like he was running in place. All he could hear was the snap of branches breaking. He looked over his shoulder to see how much ground he lost and was relieved when nothing or no one was there. Heaving a sigh of relief, he stopped, put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath, almost collapsing from exhaustion. Finally noticing the pain in his chest and legs he wondered if he could find his way back to the footpath. After walking for a bit, he heard the shuffle of leaves. Spinning around a few times scanning every corner of the woods he found nothing.

“Who’s there?”

Another footfall. Another branch snapped. Within seconds he felt the overwhelming feeling of doom hovering over him. Whirling around to face his adversary, an immediate scream escaped him as if he had no control over his body. Stepping back a couple of steps he realized who had been following him.

“You killed her.”

Clyde woke Mary by thrashing. It took a few minutes for her to get him to wake up.

“Clyde. You're dreaming again.”

“Mary. It was awful. But I know who the woman is.”

“Who?”

“I can't remember.”

Clyde was on his way to the living room. He made it to the landing on the stairs when he saw a flash of light. It looked like it came from the living room and apprehension consumed him. The knot in his stomach tightened. It kept him from moving forward.

A cackling came from somewhere he couldn’t yet see.

“You killed her.”

“Who are you? I didn't kill anyone?”

“You killed her.”

“I don't know what you’re referring to or how you got in my house, but I'm calling the cops. I'm sick of this nonsense.”

Silence filled the room. Then…footfalls. Bare feet. Slow. What he saw next made his heart skip a beat. The woman from his dreams.

Mary. I think my dreams are haunting me.”

“I know dear. That’s why you need to go to the doctor and see what he can do to help.”

“No, Mary. You don't understand. They are literally haunting me.”

“The woman from my dreams… she’s the woman I saw in the kitchen.”

“Clyde! I am sick of this talk about your hallucinations. You’re delusional. I’m making an appointment.”

“I’m not crazy!”

“I’m not talking about it anymore.” she paused. “You look exhausted. Let me make breakfast and then you can take a nap.”

“Scrambled eggs sound good.”

He relaxed his head against the couch. He decided there was no point trying to convince her.

Clyde found himself in a wooded area. He was breathing hard. It was dusk. It was silent. Too silent. Not even the birds dared to speak. Something was amiss. Trying to get his bearings, he thought he saw movement in the near distance.

“Jonathan? Is that you?”

Footfalls. Making a slow three hundred sixty degree angle, he couldn’t see anything but trees. He knew there was someone or something there. He could feel the hair on his arms standing straight up.

“You killed her.”

“Killed who? Who are you? What are you talking about?”

“You killed her.”

Suddenly no longer afraid, he braced himself for whatever was to happen. Perspiration began dripping from his chin as he waited for his assailant. Waiting he eventually saw someone emerge from behind a tree. A grotesque, long-nosed, hairy, warty woman plodded toward him dragging one foot behind her.

“Who are you?”

No answer. She continued toward him. When she was about mid way she began to transform. Slowly she began to take on a more attractive appearance. By the time they were face to face she looked like a completely different person. When she finally got close enough to see her face in the dark he made a startling discovery.

“Elizabeth. What are you doing here?“

“You don't know?”

Clyde moved his head from side to side.

“You killed her.” The ire rising in Elizabeth’s voice. “You! You killed my best friend!”

Clyde cocked his head to try and understand what his sister was talking about.

“You don’t remember. Do you?”

Clyde looked blankly at his sister.

“You left her to die.”

A memory flooded back to Clyde.

Clyde walked away from the bonfire. He had a terrible urge to urinate. Shouldn’t have drank all those beers, he thought to himself. Too drunk to remember where the port a potty was located, he stumbled into the woods to relieve himself. Unsure how far he had gone, he stopped to see if the bonfire was still in sight. Finding the biggest tree closest to him and closing his eyes he thought he heard whispering some distance away.

“Hey, who's there?”

Focusing to listen, he thought maybe it was a classmate or two sneaking away from the crowd. Or maybe they were lost. He followed the sound of the whispers silently. The whispers began to gradually grow louder. Clyde knew he was close. They got louder the closer he got.

“Hey! Are you guys alright? Do you need help?”

“Who's there?” a familiar voice called through the trees.

“My friends and I are having a bonfire and I heard voices. I thought you might need help.”

“We're fine. Go away.”

As Clyde broke through the brush, he stumbled and fell into a clearing. Trying to see everything upside down from the ground with blurry vision, he thought he saw someone lying on the ground with restraints. Rolling over to catch a better look, he thought he saw a circle of people hovering over…wait! Is that…it is. Jonathan. He was the guy in the restraints. “What are you guys doing? Jonathan? Are you alright?

“Clyde! Help me! I think they're witches. I think I’m their sacrifice.”

“You guys leave him alone.”

The witch flashed lightning bolts in his direction, sobering him a little. Luckily he dodged them. When he stabilized himself, he looked back at the group. They were moving in a clockwise circle exposing the face of the lead witch. It was then that he realized who she was.

“Elizabeth? What are you doing?”

“I told you to go away.”

She shot a lightning bolt at him. He hid behind the nearest tree causing it to ricochet landing on girl], Elizabeth's best friend. Elizabeth screeched. [Friend] was hit by the power and dropped to her knees. Eliciting another screech from Elizabeth.

“You!” she yelled at Clyde, “you killed her!”

Clyde, scared and shocked, didn't know what to do. Elizabeth lunged at him, startling him back to reality. After several minutes realization set in.

“You're a witch!”

“Took you long enough. I'm surprised you didn't figure it out back then.” She grinned. “That's right. You were too drunk to remember. It worked out perfectly for me. I didn't have to worry about you snitching.”

“Why are you here now?”

Elizabeth chuckled. She looked at Clyde and smiled.

“You killed my best friend. And cost me a sacrifice.”

Elizabeth laughed wickedly. She stared at her brother with malice.

“You don't want to do this,” said Clyde.

“I've waited so long for this moment. The perfect time because it's her anniversary. Every year I make a sacrifice in her honor. It strengthens my powers.”

“You don't want to do this .”

“But I do. Brother. You will be the ultimate sacrifice. Blood is stronger than anything else I've encountered. I just needed the right time. And I think I got it.”

Behind Elizabeth was movement. Clyde tried not to give her away. She held a machete out in front of her. Clyde tried to keep Elizabeth engaged. Sneaking in closer, the woman pulled the machete back and swung it around in front of her making contact with Elizabeth's neck decapitating her. As the sword struck her she let out a wail so fierce Clyde had to cover his ears. In an instant the woman's rags dropped to the ground. Clyde made eye contact with the woman who swung the sword. Instant recognition.

Clyde jolted up in bed waking his wife. This time he felt at peace.

“What's wrong dear? Nothing. It was just a dream.”