The Horrendous Nightmare

The Nightmare

I would not say that I don’t dream at all as I know there is no person living who doesn’t dream at all. It just that I usually have comfortable sleep and I don’t tend to remember many dreams. You wont believe me, but I don’t remember a single nightmare in the past many years. The last nightmare I remember was in my primary school days, when I had watched a horror movie and had dreamed of it. Other than that, I have no record of any nightmare that I can remember of that may have disturbed my sleep.

I just had the most horrific, horrendous and horrifying nightmare ever at around 7 am on Thursday, 27^th January 2011. This dream certainly scared the shit out of me and I am sure that even ‘The Exorcists’ or ‘The Ring’ hasn’t scared me so much when I watched those movies being awake as this nightmare scared me in my sleep. I bet Sigmund Freud’s  ‘Interpretation of Dreams’ certainly doesn’t cover this one.

My parents and me were back in the very first home in Aurangabad that I spent most of my jolly days of growth in. Only this time, the scenario did not seem jolly at all. It felt like I do not live there anymore and I had come to visit my parents there. But it seemed as if my parents did not want me to visit them. My mother and me were in the house. Then I suddenly started destroying things in my outburst of anger. My mother warned me not to do so as my father, unlike other times, was prepared beforehand of my visit and had had made good arrangements for my welcome. Yet I ignored her and went on. It was more of angry screaming than destruction. The next thing I knew were two huge men, who certainly seemed the ward boys of some mental asylum, were barging in on me from the front door. It seemed to be the similar situation when my warden of the hostel came to fetch me when I had ran away to the same home a few years back.

My father accompanied these men, and had a weird grin on his face, which said something like ‘I had told you, not to underestimate me.’ I argued with them that I hadn’t destroyed anything and I was just screaming. Yet they caught hold of me and maybe they gave me seductive because the next thing I remember from the dream seemed to have happened after some time.

Next scene of the dream was that I have been thrown out of the house; my cheeks are stitched to my lower jaw, which made talking real pain. I had an age-old bicycle with me that I remember our servant used. My father warned me not to come back to that house or he had worse measure prepared against me. Then he rode away from there on a bicycle that I used when I was around 8 to 10 years old. This situation may seem funny while reading but it was damn scary in the dream. I imagined all sorts of ill things that can happen to my dad on the bicycle. Trust me the scope of your imagination far wider in dreams than in real life. Then I started walking with my bicycle on the road ahead thinking what had just happened. I was so depressed that I also considered ending my life, as this was the worst that could happen to me. My parents had disowned me, my cheeks were stitched to my jaws, I had the most archaic bicycle ever, I had no home, I was lonely, I was frustrated and I was suicidal. The worst part of it was even my mother couldn’t understand me, which she usually did, and aided my father in throwing me out.

Just then somehow I managed to gather myself up and told myself that it was my life, which I have to live. It doesn’t actually matter whether my parents support me or not. I can live it my way by my rules. I felt that I can certainly figure out the means of living and I started pedaling my bicycle, maybe on the road back from where I had just come, as I felt like I knew where I was going but I did not actually knew where I was going. Suddenly some other guy on a similar bicycle joined me and we continued together on the same way. I don’t know who this guy is, but he seemed to be quite friendly and a person whom I could trust. He seemed to be caring and understanding. Though he did not speak a word to me, I kind of had all these comforting feelings for him.

Next I was at some sort of residential place. It seemed like a hostel, but it was so posh that it seemed more like the hostel of Harvard or Oxford University. Me, that guy, and some more guys were getting dressed up in formal suits in what seemed like common changing room so huge and well designed that it could be seen only in some Hollywood movies. I seemed to be reassured and rehabilitated, as I was very happy and contented here.

We both were tying the knots of our ties and talking about the night before. I was telling him that I accidently got caught in a room in the same hostel with some girl I had a crush on but I wasted the whole time in there in figuring out whether she likes me or not.

Here I woke up. I did not actually wake up out of fear as usually people do when they have nightmares. I woke up generally. But when I woke up and remembered the dream that I just had, and then I was scared to death. More of horrified than scared I would say.

P.S.: -- In case the horrifying value of this dream is not clear, I would like to describe how I saw and felt myself in the dream when I was kicked out of the house. I was heavily sedated which made my movements like zombies, or dead bodies. I had no control on my arms and they were completely immobile. My clothes were all torn and raged. Face, as pale a dead person. Moth salivating as it was odd to keep it in the position it was owing to the stiches. I needed to gather great strength even to spit the accumulated saliva and I was thrown out of my house by two huge beings.

I looked somewhat like those psycho beggars that roam around the street talking to themselves in ragged clothes. Their clothes and themselves are gone black not due to head but due to uncleanliness. Their hair is all strangled and sticky. Their teeth are worse than the most ugly witch.