My Inner Darkness

This Must Be a Dream

In the blinding light of midday, which doesn't dare to draw near the shadows, I stand quiet and refined.

Though I have no boundaries, I'm locked in this wall-less, silent prison of a shanty town I used to call home. It's almost like a dream.

Wandering this sad, soulless abyss, I'm suddenly petrified, an icy coolness chilling me to the bone.

Alarmed, I scramble away as the shadows lurch forward, merely inches from my feet.

Fear drives me to run, horrified that I might not escape the evils that now lie behind me.

The cold of early February is gentle at first, each breeze leaving only a cool kiss on my skin.

But likening to that of a jealous lover, the sweet embrace forcefully turns violent and cruel.

My mind is racing with the fear of what lurks in the shadows.

My body shakes with pure terror as my knees tremble with each step.

I stop in my tracks as the occupant of the shadows lets out a ghostly howl.

I turn and stare into the darkness, so terrified no words come to mind to explain it.

Finally, after a while of watching, only one word manages to escape my lips. "Wolf." I whisper faintly.

Determined and with a thought in mind, I rush towards a small building.

The doors are locked but I find a window is open and I scramble inside then slam the window shut.

I stare at the room in awe, speechless at the beauty hidden from view.

My hair stands on end, shaking me from my thoughts as I whirl around, meeting the wolf face to face.

This wolf, radiating an overwhelming sense of knowledge, circles not once but twice then trains its eyes back on me.

Though it acts arrogant and cruel, its eyes tell a story of sadness and regret.

The wolf sits, not on the floor, but on a throne-like chair which has been furnished in a blood red velvet upholstery that sits in the corner of the room.

Once again, I have no words to describe the tense feeling in the room.

I'm less scared now than I am confused.

"Who are you?" I ask quietly. "Where are you from?" I sigh, not expecting an answer.

In a low, gravelly voice he says, "I am Amarok and I'm from Otherlife."

I'm stunned then suddenly afraid of this currently peaceful killer.

'How can this be?' I think to myself, tears swelling in my eyes.

I shake my head in disbelief, thinking 'this must be dream.'

Many a time, I've had wild and berserk dreams. This must be a dream.

"Why are you here?" I shout in anger and terror.

He doesn't answer and I can't take it anymore. "I have to know if I'm going to die!"

"You're from the Otherlife! You know what's happening!" I scream at him.

He says nothing for a while then sighs. "You're already dead. I've come to take you back to Real-life.

I stop and stand there, unable to accept his words.

'He's wrong,' I think to myself. 'This must be a dream!!!'

I shake my head furiously, taking several steps back.

"But why? I'm already DEAD!" I shriek, suddenly walking towards him.

"Master of Otherlife says you have not suffered true agony and pain!" His voice booms through the room.

Amarok growls fiercely and runs at me, his claws tearing the flesh along my torso.

His eyes burn with a hatred beyond any description as my wounds glow an unearthly light.

I sink into a part of my mind where even the slightest word is so horrid and graphic I dare not speak.

Soon the darkness fades and Amarok is nowhere to be seen. The fluorescent lights buzz above my head as a heart monitor beeps in a monotone torture. Since coming back from the depths of my mind, the only thing I dare to say is, "This must be a dream."