foetus
aigh! the dream happened again last night. you had better not go there.
damned. down there. damned he kept saying to me. he looked me in the eyes.
and there. there! do you see it. in his eyes. that thing beating there.
not pupils. those are foetuses. reflections. i recognise that foetus. hes
doing this purposely to me. when i look in his eyes i see that foetus. thats
my foetus. our foetus. the one. he thinks we killed it. that we maliciously
ripped it out of the birthwomb. thats not how it was im telling you. you
must believe me. we were young and couldnt afford a child. and there have been
so many genetic afflictions in our family. we couldnt risk it. the child had
to die. before it became an infant. before. before. hes still looking at me with
those eyes. i can see. i know its an illusion. but, by god, it looks so real.
reflections of our child. he tortures me. tells me i will come down. there is
no stopping. i will come. he smiles. smiling. i try to run. hes laughing now.
millions of faces. and the voice. voices in my head. you will come. down. down.
one of us you are. one of us you shall be again. killed your own. now the pain.
his eyes shift again. and his smile is no longer manaical, but honest and
caring. fear crosses his face as he yells. never. never. do not return. stay
away. do not come down. and the face turns again as i begin to fall. down. down.
suddenly hitting the ground. and im awake in my bed.
staring at the ceiling as it glows in the moonlight reflected from the mirror
on the other side of the room. and as i watch i can hear things. i know you
wont believe me, but i do. things. moving. a quiet squeaking coming from
somewhere. like a mouse. well, the mousetraps should take care of that. nothing
to worry about (so i keep telling myself). a bad dream. a horrible dream. but
nothing more. i look at the clock. two hours until i begin the daily chore of
dressing for work. two hours sleep. and im terrified. no. no, im a grown man. i
can handle a little nightmare. now its over and it wont come back. and if it
does, ill know its a dream and simply wish it away. so somehow i convinced
myself to go back to sleep. i slept until dawn. i didn't dream.
morning comes. i stare at my face in the mirror as i finish shaving. everythings
back to normal. just a dream. disturbing though. i usually dont remember my
dreams. remember my dreams. staring into the mirror. half expecting to see my
dead uncles eyes again. staring back at me. with those evil. that evil. his eyes.
but the reflection is my own. no one elses. nothing but the haggard face of a
toss and turn about night. washing my face off and putting on my pin-striped
suit. a client was coming in today and i had to look professional.