Nightmare

It’s that old dream again;

The one I’ve had my whole life.

I float on a dark ocean.

The waves are gentle,

The sky full of stars,

The moon full,

Smiling on me.

It starts off so well.

Peaceful.

Beautiful.

Soothing.

Rocking - back and forth,

Back and forth.

Then it changes.

The rocking not so gentle,

Becoming higher,

Lower,

Stronger,

Violent,

Threatening.

Waves tower over my head,

Blotting out the sky,

Hiding the moon.

The sky ceases to exist

And all there is,

Is water.

Black,

Cold,

Tossing me up,

Dragging me down.

One wave becomes enormous,

Capturing my body,

Pulling me impossibly high,

Towering,

Twenty feet high,

Fifty feet high,

A hundred.

And I know I am asleep,

But my half-aware me

Thinks,

“No one could survive

A fall from so high.

It’s a good thing this is a dream.”

I rise on the wave,

Up and up and up,

Until I am at the very top,

Looking down,

Far, far below me

To the roiling, dark sea.

The wave breaks,

And I am falling,

The black water

Drags and sucks, tosses and pulls me,

Rushing,

Down, down, down,

To dark oblivion.

And I know that -

If I don’t wake up -

I will die.

And I wake up

(I always wake up)

Mid-fall,

My heart pounding,

Just before the black water

Closes over my head,

Over my broken body,

Dashed to death in the darkness.

When I wake up,

(I always wake up)

I know I will be

In my own bed,

Safe and sound.

I will open my eyes

And get up

For the usual comforts:

A half-awake-walk to the bathroom.

A drink,

A splash of water on my face.

Maybe a cup of tea

To settle myself down again

For the rest of the night.

It's time to wake up.

(I always wake up.)

I open my eyes…

It is dark here.

Unfamiliar.

This is not my bedroom.

The walls are rough wood,

And the room is moving,

Up and down,

Up and down,

Creaking and sloshing,

And I hear waves

Slapping against the walls.

“I must be still dreaming,”

I think,

And I squeeze my eyes closed,

And count my breaths,

And count my pounding heart-beats,

And open my eyes again,

Trying

To

Wake up.

(I always wake up.)

But I am still

In a dark, unfamiliar place.

A boat,

Rocking on an unseen sea

In the darkness.

Lying on a wooden cot

From which I cannot rise,

My wrist chained to the wall.

My stunned mind slowly grasps

That this is not a dream.

A tiny, frightened voice in my head

Protests:

(“But I always wake up!”)

Yet I know

I will not wake up

From this nightmare.