The recurring dream has come again.
There was a bedroom at the back of that house with a window that looked onto a steep hill that had been cut into to flatten the foundation and was now supported by a wooden wall. There were always strange things to be seen by that window at night and my sisters and I frequently had issues sleeping in that room because of it. Most often, we would see a shadow. It was a man, we were sure, and even though we couldn’t truly see him, we knew that he would stop and stare into the room. Even after my oldest sister covered the window with a heavy blanket, the shadow could still be seen some times and the feeling that the man was staring into the room persisted.
For a reason unknown to me this dream, this dream I’ve had for most of my life, always started there. I would be sitting on the bottom bunk of our white painted metal bunk bed and staring down at my feet or hands. Sometimes I think I was playing a video game, but I’m not sure. I’m not sure why, but I became nervous and looked up and out the window. There, instead of the shadow man that I grew used to while living in the house was instead a man that can only be described as a lizard. He was red in color with tones of purple and blue in places, especially the rows of ridges that followed the top of his head like cornrows. He wore clothes of a bland color scheme ranging from off-white to eggshell, taupe and tan, cream and other such colors. He wore a turtleneck under a suit jacket that was neatly buttoned and pressed and cream toned gloves. His body looked as average as any person. He stood the height of a man and didn’t show any deformities other than his lizard-like head. I knew for some reason that he wore slacks that were pleated and pointed toed shoes that were popular with early gangsters but still in his same bland color scheme.
His eyes, large and untouched by hair or eyebrows didn’t frighten me. He had no ears but instead sinus holes like most lizards and fish. His hands weren’t enlongated and I couldn’t see nails or claws or talons because of his gloves and I just knew he didn’t have any. There was no reason to be afraid. At first I’m not. Once our eyes meet for a brief moment that always feels like eternity I run. I run out of the room, down the hall, through the living room, around the corner into the kitchen and out the back door. His trip is much shorter, having to only walk a few feet and turn a corner, but he isn’t there yet. I bolt up the slope next to our back door that will lead me to the back yard, but I don’t go there.
I travel through a maze of hazy yards and fields I’ve visited over my lifetime, still up the slope and eventually come to the back yard to that house. All this time, the lizard man has been following me at a calm and slow walk. My legs feel heavy and I can’t go as fast as I want or need because my body won’t let me move right in my sleep. I wind up going up another slope until it turns into dirt stairs.
The first time, I got tired and sat on the first step. I watched as the lizard man turned and headed up the slope after me, walking towards me in that calm and steady pace. His face never shows malice, but just before he reaches me, I wake up. Every night I dream this, I rest at the next step. Over the years, the steps have gone from earth to stone then wood and cement, constantly evolving the higher up I go. It was at the third set of steps I began to see what lay above the stairs. Past the last step is a plateau. I can’t see what’s there but I know something is.
The most recent time I had this dream was still several years back, after talking about it to my therapist of that point in time. It began the same. I was back in that room and running for my life. I reached the next stair and I believe I saw a well just over the plateau. My view of it stops when I sit down on the step. I look the way I came and the lizard man approaches. He begins to reach his hand, and I wake.
She asked me what I thought was up there. I don’t really know. I believe there is a well that I am to look into. I never want to reach the top of the steps. I never want the lizard man to touch me. I always hope I won’t have the dream, but just when I have almost forgotten it, I go through it again; always another step up. I don’t want to look into the well because I’m sure that when I do, I’ll die. I had the dream again last night.
anxious
tired
nostalgic
nerdy
crazy
amused
ditzy
creative