It all started June 13 of 1997. The dreams that is. That was the day my Mom died. She was struck by a car while ridding her bike. I remember it all verry well. The dreams wern't bad right off. The normal you would expect for loosing a mother I guess,then they took a horrifying twist. One wich could not be explained. What they mean I am not yet sure, that is why I am sharing my story with you. With the hopes that maybe someone out there can help me to figure out what they mean. The first of the dreams starts out in the hospital where I recieved the devistating new that my mother had died. I am walking down the long hallway speeking with a docotor in a long white coat and dark dress slacks. I want to see my Mom but he is reluctant. Looking deeply concerned for my well being, his clear brown eyes stare into mine.
" You can see her if you want, but dont' expect to much." his soft voice quivered just slightly with his words.
He led me to a long flight of stairs. They led up to a thick blanket of clouds. I looked at the long winding staircase with aww. There were so many stairs and I was so week but I had to see my mom. So I started up them. When they stopped I was above the clouds and couldn't see the hospital any longer. The doctor's words echoed in my head. I looked at the double glass doors a moment before entering. They opened up into a small room. My Mom sat on a bed dressed in a hospital gown. I sat next to her. She took my hand her green eyes looking into mine and told me she was happy and that I had nothing to worry about. Her dark curly hair was a mess and she looked tierd. Her words were kind and gental but I could tell she was worried under that fake smile. She said for me to not worry about her,but she herself was worried about her. Then a huge white candy cane type of hook came in through the hallway. It hooked around her wiast and started draging her off the bed. It began draging her down the hallyway. To where I dont' know. She was screeming my name.
" Marcia, don't let them take me, help me. MARCIA!!" I could see the fear in her eyes as they continued to drag her. She reached out to me, trying to keep hold of me. Just then a man wearing a tattered and worn out old
white coat and a stern look upon his face entered the room and oreder me out the double glass doors to wich I had entered. There a crane with a swing like that of a child's swing set awaited me. He helped me on and the crane lowered me back down to the hospital where I had first started out. All the while I could still here my Mom crying out for me, I could still see her arms streched out for me, searching for my hand to grab hers in return and finding nothing.
As soon as my feet hit the hospital floor, I woke up. A few months later this dream followed.
It started out with me looking down at something. I'm still not quite sure of what I was looking at. Suddenly I fell. Falling down, down, down, I coulnd't stop. I landed in a hot pit of some sort. It was dark at first. Then fire spred everywhere. My mom was in the middle of the room. It looked like some sort of cave. She stood in the middle of the fire. The flames leaped about her wildly.
I could smell her skin begine to burn. An awful stench that reeked about the grousome cave. The fire licked at her skin as I watched in horror. Her flesh began to melt off her body. Dripping like melted plastic to feed the fire. She began to screem for me to save her. Almost as if she had seen me hidding in the corner. She continued to scream for me to save her, help her, untill the last bite of her skin had melted off and she was nothing more than a chared skeleton. She fell to her boney knees in one last plea for me to get her out of there. I could do nothing. She collapsed into a pile of rubble and I was awakened by a hellish heat that raged suddenly through my body. I woke up scared and frightened. Sweating profusly. To this day I can still smell the flesh burning.
This story is all but too true. My Mom did die, on the verry date given above, and the nightmares still continue to haunt me. So please reply only if you have something intelligent to say to me. Not because you want to tell me that I can't write a story verry well, or to tell me to go to school. I don't need any juvinile remarks. So please leave a reply only if you are serious. Thank you.
