Undisclosed - Zach Bo1inger
Dream: The Old House
It's about three years in the future. I am visiting my family. I have about twice as many nieces and nephews now and I am playing with them all, wishing I had kids of my own. I am so happy that we are all together and having a good time. My parents have a bigger house, still on the water in Fairhaven, MA.
We all go into the dining room and sit down for dinner. There is the normal chatter from a group that size all sitting together, but is suddenly goes quiet. My father gets really serious and says "We got the house in Terre Haute back," and then he says to me, "You're going to have to go see it."
I can't understand why this is bad news. I didn't like Terre Haute, but I liked that house. It had an unfinished attic, and I built my own room there. I loved that room.
I get in the car with my mother and my nieces and nephews. We drive to Terre Haute as if we were driving across town. When we get the house is the same, but the yard has changed. It's a lot bigger and it's full of looming, ancient forest. My mother says, "You're the only one the house will let in. Go."
Something in my head, not my mother's voice, tells me I have to go in naked. I look at my mother, and she sadly nods yes. What I heard was true.
I take off my clothes and cover myself because I have something I don't want my mother to know about down there. I'm thinking "Why do my nieces and nephews have to be here to see this?" I feel like crying.
I go to the front door and put my hand on the doorknob. I stop to wonder what it means to have the house let me in. What happens to other people when the house stops them? How sure am I that the house will let me in? I turn the handle and step inside. Outside the sun has set, but it's still kind of light out. I wonder if there is any electricity in the abandoned house or if I will have to wander around with what little light is coming in. I reach for the light-switch and give it a try. The light comes on, but the room looks a creepier in the light. It smells dead, like the house was alive but now it's not. I walk through the hall and into the living room. I reach for the light-switch and turn the light on. The light comes on before I realize that where I reached is not where the light switch is in real life.
When the light comes on, the room is thick with dust in the air. This room also smells dead. There are Christmas decorations on the fireplace. I squint a little because the dust is bothering my eyes. I continue on to the dining room. I reach for the light switch and it shocks me. It's not just a little shock. The electricity slams through my arm, chest and thighs all at once. It feels like the force of getting hit with a baseball bat, but it comes from inside like a little explosion. The experience scrambles my brain a little and makes it hard to breath. As the pain subsides, I remember where I am, and I think I hear the house laughing at me. I got the shock before I turned the lights on, so it's still dark. I decide there is enough light from the living room, and I walk through the dining room to the stairs. I reach for the light-switch at the bottom of the stairs without thinking, but then I shudder and withdraw my hand. "It's better to walk up in the dark," I think to myself.
I get to the top of the stairs and it is too dark to continue. I tense up as I slowly reach for the light-switch. I recall the last jolt and think, "If I'm going to do this, I at least need to make sure I turn the light on." I resolve to throw my hand with enough momentum that I will still turn on the light even after I lose control of my body. I take a deep breath and thrust my hand up. I get the same jolt, but I successfully turned on the light. The jolt isn't as bad this time since I expected it, but it is still torture. I can see in the bathroom, and I realize it's not the house laughing at me, but there is something there laughing.
A giant tree has grown up through the center of the house and possessed it. It looks about 300 years old, and it has gnarly bark that could conceal a face. I don't look long enough to see if it does have a face.
This is the conscious being that has taken over the house. This is what decides who comes in and it has picked me. My mind is racing with incomplete thoughts. There is a tree here, and I should be asking it questions, but what can I ask a tree. I try to think of what to say and words will not form in my head. I'm still fazed by the electric shock.
I want to turn the light on, but now the light-switch in the bathroom is the most horrible thing I can think of. I take a deep breath get ready to throw my hand at it. Another deep breath, and I go for it. No shock, and the light comes on. With light, I can think much clearer. Words have returned to my head. I decide that of all the things I could ask, the first thing that comes to mind is a simple "What the hell? What is going on here?" I've picked the question, and I try to ask it, but my mouth is numb and I have no control over my jaw or voice box. As soon as my lips part, my jaw drops and hangs paralyzed.
A voice of wisdom from my head tells me, "You have to spend the night here with the tree. Don't break your daily routine." I look up at nothing for confirmation, and nothing looks back down with a tear in her eye and tells me "I'm afraid it's true." I accept my fate and feel empty inside. The empty feeling is in the same places where the pain was when I was being electrocuted.
Branches from the tree reach behind me and touch the back of my arms and legs like prodding fingertips. Each touch comes with a little electric shock like static electricity. I stand still and endure it, and the little shocks get stronger, but eventually stop.
I look at the shower. If I keep my daily routine, I'm going to have to shower in the morning. I'm certain that as soon as I turn on the shower, there will be sparks everywhere and I will smell my own flesh cooking. I actually catch myself hoping that I might die in my sleep rather than wake to that.
I have to go to the bathroom. Tensing up for the shocks has compacted my shit into a tight ball in the bottom of my colon. I sit on the toilet without even thinking of whether it will shock me. I realize after I'm sitting how lucky I am that it didn't.
The toilet is not fastened to the ground and it shakes as I am trying to go. I'm trying to shift my weight to counter the wobbling. I feel like if I should fall off, I will land first and then the toilet will fall on top of me with unrealistic weight and crush me. I manage to finish and wipe. The toilet won't flush, and I realize the bowl is completely dry. I dump the trash can onto the floor and go to fill it with water from the sink. I pause before I touch the faucet and wish I had a God to pray to. Another deep breath, and I turn on the water without incident. I fill the can and dump it in the bowl. It washes away my unpleasant filth.
Then the house rumbles and the toilet falls over. The tree branches grab my head and force me to look at my own shit sitting in the pipe, not going down. I'm disgusted with myself for creating this. My throat tightens up in an effort to keep from throwing up. Everything in my body is tightening up like this will help me to endure physical and mental torture through the rest of the night.
All I want to do is go to sleep, even though as soon as I go to sleep, it will be like blinking and waking up for that shower. The energy drains from my head and I am exhausted. For some reason, there is a bed in the bathroom. I lay down on it, again without thinking if the bed is going to shock me. Again I realize how lucky I am after the fact that it did not shock me.
The bed is uncomfortable, it's a straw mattress. It smells dead. My body tightens up again thinking of what it will be like when I am trying to sleep and the house is trying to torture me. The work my muscles are doing to maintain this tension wears me out. I'm thirsty, and I want to get water, but I can't. I'm simultaneously flexing every muscle, yet I am also paralyzed. I keep letting the energy drain from my body so that I will be tired enough to fall asleep. I worry about the shower in the morning and use the tension to wear myself out some more. As I reach the limits of my body, I am finally tired enough to sleep through anything. I feel one last convulsion that lifts my head off the bed. At the peak of the convulsion I start to relax again. I know that as soon as my head hits the pillow, I will fall asleep. As my head slowly drops I have a horrible realization. I never asked what happens if I break my routine. Also, I broke my routine. I didn't masturbate before I went to sleep. I fall asleep and the dream ends.