Monday, April 12, 2010

Had a dream about Mirror Man last night. He was different in this one, more hospitable I suppose you would say. He met me at the end of a long corridor and motioned me to follow him as he started walking down the hallway with a grin on his face. The walls of the corridor were lined with mirrors, but they weren't normal mirrors. They were like windows into my past. I saw images I tried so hard to repress - the beatings, punishment and ridicule suffered at the hands of Dad. Everything from the time I drop a glass of milk on the carpet til the time he put me in the hospital for getting a B on history exam. A few of them had Mother in them, blissfully ignorant of the torture I endured at his hands. Her red hair framing her face and offsetting the lifelessness behind her eyes. As I continued I began to see other events from the past. I saw myself capturing a squirrel in our backyard and cutting it's head off with my pocket knife. I relived the beating I gave to Dave Mackenzie in junior high. Watching the Rec Center burn down again was a real treat. Almost forgot how much I enjoyed that. The final mirror was one of the parents' grave site. It always struck me a kind of funny. There wasn't much left of either one of them to bury after the accident. When I looked away from that last image Mirror Man was looking at me, still with that same grim on his face. He put his hand on my shoulder and nodded at me. When the alarm clock went off I woke up in a state of confusion, but I had a comforting feeling of well being .

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