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Thursday, Dec. 30, 2004 - 07:38 Come into My Parlor: A Nightmare Hello gentle Reader. Was rudely brought back into the waking world a couple of hours ago by a bad dream. In line with my therapist’s, Kim, wishes, I will record it: - In my dream I was asleep, dreaming. I don’t recall what the dream was about, but I became aware of tremendous pressure being exerted upon my body, around my waist. It woke me from slumber. Feeling dazed, I opened my eyes and found myself lying in bed in the gloom of my bedroom. Believing myself to be really awake, I was suddenly filled with panic and terror when I realised that Simon was sitting astride me. ’No, this can’t be…! He should be in Adelaide (his home city), with his family for the holidays….’ I thought to myself. I struggled beneath him, uttering sounds of protest and terror. Simon managed to pin my hands either side of me, looking down at me with dark hate-filled eyes. Unable to break free, I began to notice something different about his appearance; he was wearing a T-shirt, and I could see that instead of fine, sparse hair growing on his arm, he had long, dark quills, similar to those you might see on a porcupine. Furthermore, I could see more of the quills popping up from the collar of his T-shirt on the sides and towards the back of his neck. “Please don’t do this,” I implored of him. But he said nothing, merely continued to stare at me with his impenetrable dark eyes which seemed to swell and grow to 4 times there size; then his eyes commenced to spilt and divide and move, like cells studied beneath a microscope; two eyes became four, four became eight, until he had two rows of eyes. The upper row was larger and bulbous while the lower row of eyes was somewhat smaller. The effect gave him a disturbingly insectoid appearance. Frightened by this change I recommenced my struggles to be free. He hissed at me with a mixture of fury and contempt, and thus exposed another terrifying physical transformation; his teeth were as thin as matchsticks, but longer and ending in needle-fine points, and there seemed to be hundreds of them. As he hissed, the teeth seemed to blossom outwards, like some macabre flower that could only grow under a twisted, cold and dark sun. A strange, glistening tube poked up and out of his mouth like a cruel parody of a tongue; a sphincter-like aperture at the end opened and he sprayed something out of it at my left hand, then my right. Like a spider’s web, the substance was both sticky and wet, yet it set within seconds into something akin to concrete. With my hands glued to the bed, Simon was free to sit up. He smirked at me, then spat down at me again. This time the web-like substance struck me across the face, covering my mouth and nostrils, effectively cutting off my air supply. I was instantly seized by panic and started to buck and writhe beneath him, attempting to wrench my hands free, but to no avail, while al the time he sat on top of me, his face impassive and twisted and evil, watching. My lungs began to burn painfully for air and I could feel the frantic drumming of my heart. I saw him open his mouth once more…. It was the last thing I saw, for he spat at me again and this time blinded both eyes. I found myself locked in darkness, unable to move, unable to scream, unable to breath… And then I woke up.
Copyright Jay Kerin 
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