In the introduction of my last post on dreaming, I called it a "cheap trick". Too tired to blog anything worthwhile, I resorted to writing about a series of dreams. Those are easy to type up, and I rarely feel shame in sharing them. Though, calling them cheap is inaccurate. Those particular three dreams were interesting and revealing.
After spending all day Friday deep cleaning my house, all day Saturday crafting, and a good part of Sunday volunteering and wrapping up various projects (I did have help in both departments), I am too tired and sore to blog anything complex.
So, I return to sharing a dream. This one occurred early this morning. Indeed, it woke me up and kicked me out of bed. It may sound silly, however, I can assure you, it was dark and disturbing when it played out in my head.
(This is a very small, detailed section of much large piece by Francisco de Goya called The Burial of the Sardine. Consider it a Halloween inspired choice by me. One far less disturbing than what I had planned on including.)
My youngest daughter and I were standing in the building of the school where I taught. My boss, and mentor, was there, too. So was a young dancer from my daughters' former studio. In real life, she is a nice, talented, hard worker young girl. However, in the dream, she was something else entirely.
It was not anything she was doing, but I could feel something inside of her. It was not a benevolent force. My mentor, daughter, and I would try to get things done, but the girl followed us about, with an eerie smile, and strange laughter. She did not want us there, or maybe it was just me she was trying to drive away.
Several times, I tried to confront her, in an attempt to call out the possession inside of her. I was convinced that standing up to her would be enough. Eventually, I threatened to perform an exorcism. My mentor was a former Catholic priest; therefore, in my mind, the threat carried weight. Yet, the girl continued to follow me about, laughing at me.
Frustrated, I left the school building. Everyone followed me out, including the young girl. The owner of the property appeared, and I informed him that we could no longer teach here. The force possessing the girl had won. But he was not convinced, and spoke aloud about how he would remove her himself. I shook my head, tried to explain the situation, but the owner ignored them. On I walked, further away from the school. My mentor approached me, admonished me for giving up. Ignoring him, I continued toward my car.
Along the way, I noticed something about the ground. I was standing over something that made the ground soft and wet. Within the dream, I took it for a sign, that this ground was tainted. Looking back, perhaps it was a broken septic tank that I had discovered.
At some point, I got into my car, and began driving down the long, gravel driveway, away from the school. After reaching a bit of distance from the building, I noticed something that caused me to panic. My daughter was not in the car with me! I stopped the car and looked back toward the school.
And there, my youngest daughter was running towards me. I felt guilty for realizing her absence so late. But that disappeared, consumed by another emotion. The girl running towards me was my daughter, but her eyes had changed. They had turned a solid gray. And she was not smiling any longer. Her face was marred by an evil-looking smirk. She was possessed, and coming at me.
Dread held me in place. It was not born from what she might do to me. No. It came forth from a realization: I had to decide whether to drive away, or confront her. And in that moment, I could not choose. Knowing that I was hesitating, struck me with fear.
I woke before I had to choose.
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