Monday, 21 May 2012

Bad Dreams.

In the back of every ones mind is a room.
A room which door looks as if it belongs in a 80s horror film.
With a bright light that spills out from under and around the door. Lighting up the dark corridor that leads to it. A door with most of its paint hanging off and a dull blackened brass door knob. 
If you a look close enough at the door, You might see scratch marks, that remind you of Freddy Krueger, or it might just be a neglected unpainted door, or worse it could be there disguised as the rest of the doors in your mind
But still it is there, hidden away from your conscious mind, be hind practical things, like the speech you give at work when you answer the  phone,  the root from work to the gym, the recipe for your mums famous cake. 
Its there hiding all those things you thought you had forgotten, all the memories that you no longer need or want.
The next time that you wake in the night with cold sweats and you can not remember the dream that you were having, it is more then likely it is because you were standing in fount of that neglected door with its scratches and the light seeping out from behind. Whispered words from unseen faces asking, begging you to open the door.
As you stretch out you arm and your fingers reach for that dull blackened brass door knob, screams, shouting and the sound of a child crying (always a child crying.) can be heard and grow louder and louder, your heart races as your hand begins to shake as you grasp that handle, then some thing happens and you awake screaming, trying to catch your breath, with cold sweats, and the shakes, and not knowing what you were dreaming this door in the back of your mind might be the reason.
Some people can live all there life not even contemplating that this 1980s horror film door exists, others know its there and have learnt to ignore it, while others struggle with its existents and do there best to block out the thought with drink or drugs hoping that the darkness behind this silhouetted white lit door will not consume them. 
Some have even been brave enough to look behind or even walk into the room. Where some are make it out others are consumed with their own madness in their own personal hell. 
So the next time you sit down with pop corn and soda and watch Robert Englund diving through doors in children’s dreams. Think…  what 80s horror nightmare could be living in your head.
And who will it consume first. And who will survive.  

©2012 sarah patel

No comments: