The Cemetery - XIV

Part 1

Amelia

cont.

When I met next with my friends, I deemed it unsafe to share my new found dreams with them despite my anxiety of their emergence. How foolish of me then to not voice my concerns to friendly ears when I had the chance to possibly safe me more trouble. By this point it had been a few months since my brother had passed. The dreams had begun but thankfully for my mental wellbeing they were few and far between. Many shared the same visions as the first. A grey landscape punctuated by silvery figures, then a transition from that desolate plane that I no longer held in awe for its twilight vistas but felt a cold oppression upon seeing, to the dream home where Fredrick would sit me down. After three dreams I felt however that it was not actually Fredrick who was speaking to me. Though I was feeling a certainty grow in me to that regard I was hesitant to voice this to the person seated across from me.

                The dreams started to grow in length as my mind acclimated to the separation from reality. In the beginning they were short, disjointed and fleeting. I could barely recall much from the first night only glimpses and feelings. After a collective week of dreaming I was able to recall much of what I had seen, heard and felt while with my “brother”. Though I have stated it was not my brother. Only in visage did it share my brother’s likeness. The creature felt like it was wearing my brother’s face like a cloak to hide itself from me. In our discussions, where it would tempt me into acceptance, of what I was unsure at the time as it was very cryptic in its musings, it would speak in terms with airs my brother did no possess. It had a slyness to its speech that my brother never used with me. a callousness when I showed signs of confusion or fear at its request. Thankfully for me I did not show this negativity to it often. Despite being stuck as I was in sleep in this dream world, I did not feel danger. I did feel a confusion, a wish to wake and be rid of the strangeness, but no fear accompanied the darkness. In my bosom I felt a strength and a sense that I held the power in that place with that creature.  

                In one dream, as I can strongly recall, I was pacing across the carpeted floor. I was taking stock of everything, recording it all for my written recollections later in waking. At this point I had spoken to Dr. Starcross….

                I think I’m getting ahead of myself. This is starting to sound all too clinical. I know the good doctor told me to recall things and relay them as coolly as possible without emotion but its not that simple…

                From January 1816 to May that same year I endured the hardest, most mind bending, emotionally taxing months of my young life. I fear that what I have endured has indeed taken years off my life. If not the ordeal then the encounters with that thing have undoubtedly shaved precious life from my soul. I will be frank in my next words, I feel as though I’ve been too distant even to my own memory. I’ve been avoiding the worst of things. I assume for my own sake, but I will not be the only one to encounter this I’m sure. And my survival will spell the survival of another, it must.

                I will recount three dreams I had that spelled what was happening to me in sleep and the waking world. From these three I will also recount what I learned from my dear friend Margaret. In her darkest days of mental confusion she sought out doctors, scholars, and even sages to fend off her demons. As my ordeal went on I was sure I would need the same protections.

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