EVIL SHADES AND COLOURS

EVIL SHADES AND COLOURS

My days have always started in the same manner for many decades. Ejected from my sleep, covered in cold sweat, brought on by the traumatic events conducted by the hideous characters that haunt my nights, my dreams. I am consistently tied as while others rest peacefully, I spend the dark hours running, screaming, and trying to fight these monsters that only exist in my head. Even so, they are as real as you or me in my opinion.

Only minutes after I regain lucidity the monsters of my mind tend to fade away and allow me to take refuge from them during the day light but not so much lately. Today in vivid details they have remained with me, why? I can only speculate.

Evil faces and details of monsters now keep repeating within my brain like a never-ending slide show all throughout the day. I have tried to focus and clear my thoughts several times, but they just will not stop haunting me. Several times I have felt like smashing my head against the wall or just screaming in frustration but refrained. It would not help anyway.

Today this has consumed me so much I am left feeling ill and so scared I have had to phone into work to inform them I needed the day off. It felt pathetic, a grown man in his mid-forties reduced to an emotional mess, crumpled on the couch smoking one cigarette after another. What was I going to do? This lifelong haunting of my mentality has to stop.

The first monster to show up and take residence in my mind arrived when I was only 4 years of age. He still haunts me to this very day; I have known him now for over 40 years. I have named him the Lip Collector.

This is an account of the same nightmare I have every night of this vile creature…

I was playing with my yellow tonka truck by the side of my parent’s home situated in bushland suburb of Westleigh, located on the edge of Sydney, as north as you could get in those days. I always felt there were bad things in the bush but never really believed I would ever see any. I once did believe there was something in the bushland generating my dreams. I have explored the area as an adult many a time, but I have never found anything to prove this.

It was an odd spot in a yard to be playing with such a toy as I had a great sandpit to use, but I guess this was meant to be the landscape of this particular nightmare.

I was sitting on the concrete path that ran the length of the house amongst my favourite plant Swedish Ivy. It grew prolifically on each side of the path. On my right-hand side was our home, to my left was the brown palling fence that separated our family’s property from the vacant block next door.

A detail that is always highlighted in this subconscious event is how ugly and angry the fence looked due to its large splinters and peeling paint. Anyway, this fence was crudely constructed, full of termites and was still to be completed at each end. This meant you could run rings around it.

So, I was playing with my yellow truck pushing it up the hill of the foot path when I was covered by the shadow of a human, one I did not know. So, I looked up to look to see who was there. It was an was an oddly dressed man. He was wearing an unbuttoned black shirt, black jeans and had failed to put on his shoes. (I must point out this particular creature features in another nightmare of mine, but it is too ugly to tell you as this dream involves my foreskin, you may work out the details after I tell you more about him. I think it will be fairly obvious.)

I remember smiling at him and tried to say hello, but he just stared at me before he held up a large pair of scissors, the blades where large and perfectly shiny in the sunlight, they had large black handles that to were made of thick metal. I was confused so I got up off the ground and just stood there trying to make sense of the situation. When he reached out to grab me, I knew that bad things where about to happen.

“I am going to cut out your lips little boy, I hear you talk too much.” He said through his rotten green and yellow teeth.

I do not remember answering or even screaming. Fear had robbed me of the power to do so. I broke free of his grip and then ran as fast as I could. I was running for my life! I wanted so desperately to escape. I raced around the end of the fence and kept up my pace. When I was halfway up the fence, on the opposite side to my home, I ran out of breath, so I stopped running and slowly turned to see how far behind me was the man that wanted to crudely amputate my mouth was. To my surprise he had not followed me, or so I thought.

It was at this moment that there was a cold tap on my right-hand shoulder. Even at that age I was smart enough to know who it was; Indeed, it was the Lip Collector. The tapping quickly changed into a firm grip that I was unable to break free of, he had me.

I again tried to scream and call out to my father who I could hear calling for me in the background, but I opened my mouth, and no noise came out. Again, terror had left me dumb.

I remember then looking at this beast directly into his dead eyes in an attempt to try to use my eyes to express to this monster that I did not deserve this, a visually plea to him not to hurt me, it was useless as his intentions obviously did not change, the compassion I was looking for was not noticeable, I do not think he has any at all, only evil reflects from his soul.

I wondered to myself how much is this going to hurt? And how long will it take for my life to pass from my body? He then pushed me to my knees and as I gave up and went to close my eyes in defeat, I noticed the belt the Lip Collected was wearing. A crude piece of rope passing through the lips and mouths of his other victims. Each was in a various state of decomposition and the flies were attracted to the garment. My lips would be the next pair to be added to his belt. It was profoundly disturbing.

I felt one of the scissors blades pierce through my left check and he began excruciatingly snipping away at my mouth and lips…

It is at this point that I wake, escaping the torture and horror inflicted on me by this demon. Each time I do I am as traumatised on the same deep level that I was the very first time I had this nightmare, and now he is present in my mind daily, it is too much!

Another vile character that came to join the Lip Collector when I was 8 years old, is the Bag Pipe Spider.

This is an account of the recurring nightmare of this spider like beast…

At 11:59pm I awake from my sleep to find myself in a different bedroom than the one I had fallen asleep in. The bright orange furniture now appeared to be black, my bedding was black as were the once pale-yellow walls.

Scared though curious I get out of bed to make my way to the hallway of my families’ home. When I exit my room for the hallway, I notice the walls are also black, and even though it was in the middle of the night, it was much darker than it usually was.

I wanted my parents help so walked up the hall, stumbling, looking for the door to their bedroom though the hallway had expanded, became infinitely longer, the further I walked the further away their room seemed to become.

During my search for safety in the dark I hear a noise of something approaching me from behind, at first this noise is faint though as it begins to grow louder and louder, I realised the creature is coming closer to where I was standing. I had already turned to try and see what monster was closing in on me in the darkness, but it was yet to become visible though the black veil of the midnight shadows.

At the last possible moment, the Bag Pipe Spider instantly appears from the darkness and now she is standing before me. Drooling from her huge mouth that was lined with row after row of sharp, shark-like teeth. Her huge body was made of a collection of bag pipes. Some were large others smaller, twisted together to form a body of inflating and exhaling pipes. They oddly made no noise. All I could hear was her breathing, it was rapid and excited.

From the body of bag pipes that also resembled rotting meat came 8 spider legs covered in barb like hairs. It was truly a frightening creature.

I went to step backwards away from her only to find, somehow, I was now at the end of the hallway as there was a wall immediately behind me. Trapped I tried to scream for my parents help but when I opened my mouth nothing came out. Just like in my dreams with the Lip Collector.

The Bag Pipe Spider smiles at me next before impaling me to the wall with one of her horribly spiked limbs, straight through my chest. I attempted to cry out in pain but again the only noise I could create was silence. Adding to the agony was that she basically ripped apart my chest when she pulled the leg back out of me, leaving me with profound wounds. I was now laying on the floor in a puddle of my own blood.

Next, she quickly binds me in a thick, sticky web. It is ultra-strong. I try to break the strands of web as the Spider began winding them around my broken body, but I was not strong enough to do so. It was not long before I was completely encased in its web and I was been dragged back down the hallway toward my bedroom which felt like it took hours.

When we got to my room, she threw me onto the floor but I noticed threw the web that it was still 11:59pm. She then holds me down and with a few of her legs while she used a couple more to tear the web away from my body and starts to consuming me with her violent mouth, it was ghastly feeling, my interpretation of being eaten alive.

This is where I wake up, my sleep shattered again, nervous system on overload, shaking, requiring more Valium to calm down my terror.

There are so many more of these evil creatures and demons that I could tell you about and what they have done to me, but I have decided not to share this with you. Why? For they are all so bitterly evil.

Maybe I should have gone into work to distract myself with my tasks and duties because I felt that by being alone was only amplifying my terror. I was distracted so much so I do not remember one thing broadcasted to my TV, I just was unable to take on anymore. My mind was closing in and the panic was becoming too much, so I decided to take a few more Valium and prayed that they would work.

40 minutes later I started to float and relax from the pills I had taken; the TV still did not interest me, and I stared to get bored. This could increase the chances of my mind filling with more fear, so I decided to do something to keep myself mentally active. The Valium made me feel a little freer to be active and creative. So, I dragged my sorry arse off the couch to collect my art pads and mediums. I needed the therapy of colour, and I wanted to create something inspired.

For about an hour I sat with my drawing pad in my lap and with a 4B pencil in my hand just staring at the blank page. Finally, I lowered my hand and began to simply doodle, nothing in particular apart from odd shapes some of which I shaded around and some I coloured. I had no idea of what I was creating until I was finished.

Without noticing while I was drawing, I had created a crude but detailed and recognisable portrait of the Bag Pipe Spider. She looked as revolting on the page of my drawing pad as she did in my head late at night. I was not really surprised by this, maybe a little amused, after all she was one of the monsters on my mind today.

Still committed to my pre-bed habits, I quickly packed away my pencils and pens of numerous colours, into their appropriate boxes and the art pad containing the portrait of The Bag Pipe Spider. I got up to fetch a glass of ice-cold water, my bong and weed and my jar of Valium and I tried watching late night TV, but I was still not interested as I was caught in my own thoughts. I rolled a cigarette and lite it. I noticed then that this was my first smoke since breakfast, so I took a deep drag from it as I began to float again, and my mind started to slow down. So eventually, I was ready to pass out, so I turned off the TV, paused for a long moment, then got up and went to bed. Again, ready to battel the demons in my mind.

When I woke and as I was calming myself, I realized the most peculiar thing about the attacks on my phycology, The Bag Pipe Sider did not appear last night in my dreams nor is she in my mind now like the others are. How could this be? I thought to myself when I an idea hit me like a truck Could it be that simple? To draw these beasts and vanquish them from my thoughts. This runs parallel with my belief of things in your head exist there as ideas or thoughts until they are told to somebody or written or drawn down, then the ideas become part of the world and no longer live in your head. Is this what I have done, successfully? Taken the Bagpipe Spider from my subconscious and now made her part of the real world, existing only in my drawing of her. I then knew what I had to do!

Immediately I called work again and explained I required time off for personal reasons. I needed at least the next 12 days off, they agreed. I knew they could get by without me. It takes five minutes to do a day’s work at the paper as all the news is recycled!

I then jumped from bed had a long, thoughtful shower mulling my theory over and over again, I was excited. This was my first chance since I was 4 years of age that I had a chance to be free of my devils.

After my morning habits (coffee and cigarette) I was ready to give it my best. I was now the hunter and I had the advantage of knowing my enemies faces, every detail; my monsters were powerless to defend them shelves to stop my advance in our battle. I guess they just had to watch me draw though they were screaming at me not to!

I gathered my art belongings and on the blank page next to the Bag Pipe Spider, I began to draw again, only today my victim would be the Lip Collector, for he has haunted me for the longest time and tonight, hopefully he will be no more. I plan to trap him in the pages of my book.

Again, today I was so distracted by my slaying creativity that by the time I was finished the detailed portrait of the Lip Collector, it had been dark outside for several hours. I was so tied I felt like I could skip my evening habits for once, I did not pack up my art equipment, instead went straight to bed without dinner. I was excited. I wanted to know if I was free of the lip collector.

Although the other devils haunted me throughout the night I was not concerned when I opened my eyes. The Lip Collector was no more, like the Spider, only existent in my art. I was free of 2 of the 13 demons that possessed my nocturnal mind.

It took me another day without coffee, smoking, eating, and missing my morning shower to complete the next demonic portrait. Artistically interpretating and then creating these monsters was exhausting and my obsessive work habits did not help.

Again, I woke traumatised, but feeling victorious, another monster was missing, trapped in the pages of my art pad. My art was my sword that one by one I was using to destroy my enemies.

I needed energy to do this, so I decided this morning to treat myself to a large breakfast of bacon and eggs on toast, two coffees and then my cigarette. Then it was business time. My art had begun for the day.

While I sketched and coloured away, I recalled my dreams from the night before. They had been more vivid than before and each attack from the remaining devils seemed to take me closer to my death before I can awake and escape. Were they fighting harder to kill me? They say if die in your dreams that you die in real life, is that now their objective? They obviously had noticed their missing comrades. They Knew it was to me killing them. I felt a real pressure to work harder, go faster. I was now in a race to destroy my demons before they destroyed me.

I had no choice but to work longer into the night, one night I avoided sleep altogether. I did not know how much longer I would survive? how much longer could I sustain these attacks? Daily my resilience was weaking but like a wounded solider on the battlefield, I had to keep swinging my sword if I wanted to survive despite needing to retreat.

At the end of the 9th long, hard day my work was complete, and not a moment too soon. One or two more nights and the monsters would have succeeded in their attempt to destroy me. I tore the pages of the art book out so I could spread the pictures over the living room floor. I stared at my hideous creations, they were no masterpieces, they were more valuable than that, they held my night terrors. As long as these charters are on paper, I am now completely free of their haunting.

I deserved to enjoy my pre-sleep habits in front of the monsters that would never trouble or haunt me again. I felt like the strongest person in the world and I was proudly satisfied. What would I dream about tonight? Would I even have dreams anymore? I thought to myself as I took my self to bed where I quickly fell into the deepest sleep of my life.

After a night of true peace and rest I awoke and laid in bed for hours giving my broken mind more time to recover. I had gotten away with my life and just wanted to move on now as they are truly gone.

I headed for the shower before shaving and dressing. I had to use hair clippers on my face as I had not shaved for nearly 14 days. I planned to go to work so I put on some of my finer cloths and after I was prepared to face the day, I made my way to the kitchen. To get there I had to pass through the living room, past my 13 demonic faces of the monsters that were borne from my own mind.

I had though last night to destroy and burn the images in the kitchen sink, so I planned to do it this morning. As I bent down to start picking up the pieces of paper, I was presented with the most hideous shock. I could not believe what I was seeing, it was horrifying…

Each monster, devil, demon, and beast that I had drawn where now missing from my pages and paintings, I was at a loss, how did they escape? Why had I not burnt them last night? I scolded myself. My head spun with confusion. I dropped my pieces of paper to the ground.

This is when I noticed traces of blood on my hands, the demons must have been injured while escaping or it could of have been the blood of their other victims. In shame I looked at the pile of once evil prisons then I saw footprints of blood in various sizes headed in the same direction. To my front door!

These monsters of my creation had not opened the door but instead crashed straight through it. How did I not hear? It must have been my deep sleep. They had left more traces of blood on the broken door, but they were long gone as the blood was drying.

What had I done? The feeling of guilt was overwhelming, consuming. The monsters of my mind were now real, part of the world, deadly and ready to hurt the innocent. A new nightmare has begun within the realm of reality. Art will not save any of us, it was going to take something else, something I was not going to be able to handle.

Freeing myself from my nightmares had just created a new real horror and I knew then I would never be free. The monsters I had banish have returned to my sleep to taunt and remind me that one day they will come for me.

To avoid this, I have chosen to stop, I cannot fight anymore, I wish never to wake into this new situation again…I can think of no other viable escape. I called work and resigned. Consumed all the Valium I had in my small flat along with some old pain killers. I took them all and went to sleep scared but looking forward to a new freedom, celestial and holy, that is, if I do not go to hell for what I have just done.

THE END.