The Cemetery - XIII

Part 1

Amelia

cont.

I’ve spoken extensively to my few friends about nighttime curiosities, involving dreams and nightmares. I was intensely fascinated by their stories yet was never able to contribute much of my own as I never seemed to have dreams. Or I was lacking in recalling them once I was awake. That is, until after my brother passed away.

My closest friend Margaret often told of her expansive dreamscapes and the delights and sometimes horrors that would accompany them. Despite her aversions to some of these visions in sleep I wholly envied her in wishing I had my own dream travels. Though my life was secure, and no ills fell upon me owing to my brothers’ steady hand, it was a rather dull existence I might say. No special occasions, no mysteries, no intrigue, like the kind I read in books. So, hearing Margaret’s frequent tales of dreams made me wish for my own to whisk me away in the night on a grand adventure. So, when I had my first dream after Frederick died, I was on one hand excited for finally having my wish granted and very afraid at what my dream might hold since he was the first thing I saw.

It was one night after I spent almost a full day around the graves. I had Frederick's steward fetch for me a lounging chair and an umbrella so that I could spend a few hours in the vicinity of my brother at my leisure. There was an arrangement made by the steward with the grave tender to leave me be. Apparently, it was due to my “feminine debility” to which they granted me this stay, but I was grateful all the same. I was left in peace with my thoughts and my brother’s spirit as I assumed it was. I felt a presence ever near me under the shade of the statue. Thought it was a grand attempt at recreation of my brother’s form it was still only a false copy and didn’t give me much comfort, though the presence I felt was thoroughly soothing.

That night, when I was fashioning myself for sleep, I felt that the presence was with me in my room. as if it had followed me home. I felt, as one does in such circumstances, that it was the spirit of my brother clinging to me like a child clings to its mother’s coat in the rain following behind her. I welcomed the presence and wished it well as I went to sleep. This is when things began to frighten me.

As my eyes fell to sleep in that way where one never truly knows when they pass from conscious to unconscious, I saw the image of my brother. He was standing on a glassy plane shadowed in twilight moonbeams, though no moon could be seen. The shades of blue and grey played off one another to create a misty affect on my minds eye. I tried to look from side to side but felt paralyzed. Margaret spoke of this phenomenon as well, explaining that a doctor told her such mechanisms exist in the human brain to keep the body from unnecessary motion in sleep. I was now fully aware that this phenomenon existed in me and was carted along in my dream as if I were a part of a play. I moved from step to step across the glassy surface of the world I inhabited without my say so. I was not afraid in that instant, feeling free in a way as my body moved involuntarily. I was simply a witness to what was happening, not an actor to the machinations.

I saw my brother, as I’ve stated, standing before me. He led me through the twilight betwixt shadows cast and light beams cutting through them. I felt like I was flying though my feet appeared to be on solid ground. All around I saw what seemed to be the outlines of men standing with a silvery glow about their forms. I was entranced by the sight, wishing I could reach out and touch them. My hand, despite being paralyzed from sleep, moved as my mind wanted. I reached out to touch the nearest silvery figure. As my fingers grazed it a heard a scream. It echoed for what seemed like miles and a pain filled my chest. My brother spun me around looked deep into my eyes and he spoke.

“It is forbidden. Unless you accept me. Then you can return any time you like.”

I was confused by this declaration by him, but my mind was awash with a new image. A home with a great fireplace and books upon books. It was the home I had wished for myself when I was a little girl. Something only, I knew that I never spoke to anyone. A sanctuary where I could stay and read to my leisure. My brother in this dream showed me this place I had envisioned and spoke again.

“This will be yours if you accept.”

“Accept what?” I spoke without my lips moving.

            Before my brother could answer a loud crashing from the door being swung open to my room by the steward woke me pulling me violently from the dreamscape I had beheld. I felt on my wrist where my brother had grabbed hold of me, and I felt raised lumps. The steward explained the intrusion saying he heard screams and was worried for me. I did not remember screaming myself, but I recalled the scream in my dream. Perhaps it was from my own mouth but disjointed to my perception because of the distance felt in the dream from the waking world. I could not say. However, I do know that from the night forward I was anxious to return to sleep to see my brother. My wish had been granted for dreams; little did I know they were simply nightmares.  

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