3. My Nightmare

Anna Merk

by Anna Merk

Story

Night fell like a shroud, and with it came a nightmare that ripped at the seams of my sanity. The messy events of the day had left me vulnerable, and as I slipped into sleep’s embrace, the darkness morphed into a realm of terror that mirrored the chaos I had been grappling with.

In the dream, I found myself standing in a desolate landscape. The sky above was a swirling maelstrom of crimson and charcoal, the air thick with the acrid scent of fear. All around me, the ground was stained with a sickening shade of red, and distant screams echoed through the air like a haunting refrain. I stumbled forward, my heart hammering in my chest, driven by an inexplicable force to seek out the source of the horror.

As I moved through the nightmarish tableau, the surrounding scenes shifted and distorted, blurring the lines between reality and nightmare. Faces contorted in agony, their eyes wide with terror, flickered in and out of focus. I could hear their cries, their pleas for mercy, reverberating in my ears like a symphony of suffering.

And then, amidst the chaos, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was my great-grandmother, a woman I had met only twice in my life, yet whose presence in my blood and heart I could feel. She stood there, her frail form a beacon of stability amid the turmoil. Her eyes, though weathered by time, held a fierce determination that sent a shiver down my spine. I tried to speak, to ask her what it all meant, but my voice caught in my throat as a chilling wind swept through the night. She beckoned me closer, her gaze never leaving mine, and I felt a strange compulsion to follow her lead.

As I drew near, the nightmare’s intensity seemed to wane, the screams fading into a distant hum. Suddenly, we stood before a window, the glass reflecting a world that was both foreign and familiar. It was her small Ukrainian town, untouched by the horrors that had haunted my dream. The skies were clear, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers, just as I remembered it.

My great-grandmother turned to me, her eyes filled with a tenderness that spoke of generations of love. She reached out her hand once more, her fingers brushing against mine. Within that nightmare, within the blood and the screams, there was a glimmer of hope.

As I woke, drenched in sweat and gasping for air, I clung to the remnants of the dream. The nightmare had left its mark, a reminder of the horrors that could befall a world consumed by power and ideology. But it had also offered a piece of redemption, a connection to a part of me that was unyielding in the face of darkness.

And as I lay there, haunted by the nightmare’s images yet anchored by my great-grandmother’s presence, I realised that within the depths of my confusion and pain, there was still a glimmer of light, a spark of resilience that could guide me through the tumultuous journey that lay ahead.

© Anna Merk 2023-08-31

Genres
Suspense & Horror
Moods
Dunkel, Emotional