Dreams of the Dead

The fucking rain here is unbelievable. It never, ever stops. I woke up last night to the sound of thunder. I had been having a horrible nightmare with my parents. They looked very much as they did in the days before their accident. Dad with his usual grimace and disgusted look permanently carved on his features. Mom with her shallow, over joyfulness. Even all these years later that fake cheeriness turns my stomach. My parents were expecting company, some sort of family gathering. I wanted nothing to do with it and walked away from them. My father grabbed my shoulder from behind and spun me around, catching me with a left hook in the process. My face ignited with pain and blood. Through my swelling eyes I could see Mom look down at me and quickly turn away as if she hadn't seen anything. Dad was standing over me with his fists clenched in rage ready to strike at me again. He bellowed for me to get my ass up and help my mother. I pulled myself off the floor and staggered into the kitchen. I fumbled a butcher knife from the block and drove the blade into Mom. I didn't stop until the hilt reached her spine. She began to choke on her blood. It poured from her mouth like a waterfall. I turned and grabbed another knife and lunged at my father who was stunned into paralysis. The tip tore easily into his soft stomach. I pulled the blade out and repeatedly drove it into his torso. When I finally let his lifeless body slump to the floor I realized I was surrounded by family. After watching me brutally murder my parents they began to ask me how school was going and if I had chosen a college yet. What was I going to major in? Did I have a girlfriend? Why didn't I call Grandma on her birthday? Why don't I spend more time with my cousins? I started to stab at them violently but they wouldn't die. Their voices kept calling at me, droning on until they became an insufferable din.

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 .

Body Cont - 3

Feeling bad this morning. Had to go to a company social function. Some kind of "ply the clients with drinks until they're stupid enough to fall for this shit" dinner. The details of the evening are a little fuzzy. I kept hearing Dad's voice over and over again "Mind your company manners, boy". I think I had a steak. Kind of ironic being surrounded by cattle. One of them from the accounting department tried to chat me up. I think I maintained my "human mask" well enough. I didn't scare it away, but I remember it picking up on the fact that I'm not all together "chatty". The Corporate Muppet flapped it's head about some nonsense or other. It's slurred droning was even more incoherent than normal. I don't think the idiot clientele were put off by that or even noticed it in their own drunken stupor. After what seemed like an eternity, I excused myself and hastily made my way to the door. One of the cattle said something about a lunch meeting today as I was passing. I made some non-committal response and continued my exodus. The wave of city air washed over my senses like a tidal wave. The stench is returning to the air. I've been so occupied with my trophies these past few days that I hadn't noticed. Making my way to the train station, I almost choked on the putridity. Thankfully I was able to board a train rather quickly and to my good fortune the car was mostly empty. A few students and some assorted cattle. One of them caught my eye, and obvious prostitute. She was relatively new on the scene. No visible scars or track marks. She didn't have the doe eyed naive look about her, but she still had a sparkle of false hope in her eyes. She looked around the car to see if anyone was checking her out. She glimpsed me watching and gave a small smile. She made her way over to me and struck up a conversation. And like all things, it boiled down to time and money. I had the money so she had the time. She said the next stop was hers and she had a little out of the way place we could go. I agreed and we hopped off at Union, near the West End. We walked for a few blocks down the mostly deserted street. The area had been a booming industrial area at one point, but it's now mostly home to the dregs of society. She brought me to an alley situated between a Chinese restaurant and an abandoned lawn mower factory. She said it was a quiet place where we could be outside and see the stars. Really what she meant was it's a place outside where I can scream for help and potentially get away from a would-be killer. We discussed price for a few minutes and then she got on her knees and began to caress my thighs. As she reached for my crotch and began undoing my zipper, she looked up at me and gave a wicked smile. I returned the smile and placed my left hand over her mouth and my right behind her neck and thrust forward toward the brick of the restaurant. Her head exploded in magnificent crimson. I pulled her to the ground and continued to bash her skull against the cool asphalt. Her eyes quickly glazed over and rolled to the back of her head. When I finally stopped her cranium was a mass of bloody chunks and blond hair. I gave a quick glance around to see if my actions had startled any of the cattle. I spied the restaurants dumpster at the end of the alley. I grabbed the girl's corpse and heaved her in. Taking an assessment of my appearance, I noted my dinner jacket was covered in her blood. I checked all the pockets for any identifying materials and then threw it in the dumpster. My pants were a little messy but not bad, easily worked with. A little searching through the dumpster yielded a few half empty bottles of beer. Grabbing my Zippo from front pocket and some paper from the dumpster for kindling, I started a fire. Once I had a good flame going I tossed it in and watched for a few minutes to make sure the rest of the contents started to catch. Nothing like a grease fire. I poured the beer on myself and untucked and unbuttoned my shirt so anyone noticing my appearance would chalk it up to me being a drunk. Satisfied with my handiwork, I made my way towards the train station with a slight stagger. On the ride back to my side of town I reflected on what transpired. I'm not really sure why I killed her. It was a stupid thing to do. I was fortunate her choice of venue afforded me the opportunity to easily cover up my mistake. Perhaps wearing my "human mask" for too long took it's toll on me.

Bit of Deja Vu this afternoon. The rain broke for a while so I went for a little stroll. I found myself at a small park not far from here. I've passed it many times, but never given it much thought. Walking in further, I noticed a small river towards the back by the a line of redwoods. The river is the same as the one in my dream about Dad. Even the bench was there, but there was a girl seated on it. It was reading a book and enjoying the break in weather. It had long auburn hair and blue eyes and was dressed to show it's best feminine assets. It had a ring on it's left hand but did not seem to be accompanied by it's mate. One wonders if it is in search of alternate companionship.

Had the dream about Dad again last night. I'm not sure, but I think he was trying to tell me something. I couldn't make it out. If he was talking to me that's more than the fucker talked to me while he was alive. After a sleepless night now I have to put on my "human mask" and join the cattle for another day of hell.

Strange dream last night. I was standing on a river bank watching Dad drown, not moving to help. After a few idle moments I started throwing rocks at him as he struggled. The river turned crimson from the blood gushing from his lacerations. I sat on a bench to watch him sink in a pool of his own blood.