Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Post One Hundred and Thirty One: Eidolon.
I've been a mortician on a full time basis for three years now. Day after day and death after death, fashioning and fabricating funerals to rest the breathless and bereft. Perhaps close to eight hundred mortal working days, and thousands upon thousands of taciturn and cold clientele. I've crossed a bridge from a wide eyed and callow make-up fancier to a fully fledged funeral worker more pragmatic and versed in grief and gore.
I wonder why now, at his point in my career, I've become a little spooked. I had another lucid dream, yet this time it wasn't a fun one. No more apple and vegemite combinations, just regular old dreams of necrosis.
People have often asked me if I've had nightmares about various traumas and injuries. Up until this point there hadn't been any cross over between my waking life and my dream states, but by perchance something had to give and BOOM...nightmare 2011 was had, and it was a doozy.
I can't get this girls face out of my mind. I've never seen her before in real life. She had suicided, and as such was brought in after a coronial autopsy. When I opened the body bag I could see that she'd really done a humdinger on herself. Her eyes were large and gentle yet had been taken over by the cloudy haze of antemortem. Her arms long and delicate but fingers dark and dry. It was horrific. The whole dream sequence, if shot in a movie, was threatening and macabre. The smells and sounds were so realistic that I could've sworn it was an event in reality.
The dream progressed and the corpse began to turn her head on the table, look at me and talk. Nobody else in the room could hear or see the girl communicate so I proceeded to lose my shit. Understandably. I woke up from the dream that went for what felt like an hour too long, terrified and unsettled. The girls face is etched into my mind. What will happen if I meet this girl one day in the flesh? Will she be alive? Was this a premonition?
Questions, questions, questions. Scary, Scary, Scary.