In a field at dusk, there's a house
in the middle of nowhere. Windows with lights
streaming out on the ground – toward me
like a lighthouse. I'm drawn in like a moth
to fire. As I peer in, a family is eating
their dinner. A square table with a large turkey.
The father is dressed in a suit, the mother's hair
is impeccable – no strand out of place. The children
sit with their napkins in their lap. It looks like a poster;
a Norman Rockwell painting of familiar perfection.
A noise like scraping metal and gun blasts
rams it's way into my ear. On the horizon, a light
like an atom bomb fills my eyes
and the night sky. I turn back to the family
but they've gone. Pigs are eating scraps off of the table now.
My heart feels like it's going to burst.
You are behind me and I'm terrified;
I feel the tears welling up behind my eyes
and my heart shrinks, then lodges somewhere in my throat.
There is a small light at the end of the tunnel I suddenly find myself in
and the dirty puddles of water splash as my feet
make contact. You are close enough to grab me.
I'm screaming in my mind, “You're dead, you're dead, YOU'RE DEAD!!!”
A thought of your blood-spattered face
and missing part of your head crosses my mind.
It fills me with a terror I can't describe.
My knees weaken at the thought and I fall.
When I wake up, I'm covered in sweat.
I feel like I've run a marathon.
You've been dead only a few months
and for the next 2 years I will have this nightmare
over and over. I have insomnia.
My grades are slipping. Sometimes I wake up screaming,
the sheets holding me down as I thrash
against you pinning me to the ground.