A Halloween Dream

I saw a dark hallway, the walls close, yet distant; a palpable night pervaded the place; its portals attended by nurses with dead eyes, their white coats cast in dim fluorescence. They bid me wordlessly onward and I did glide into the deep. My will was vapor before my curiousity. But as soon as the blackness beyond the metal gate met my eye, I wished to turn back. My heart began to flail and flutter and my stomach churned with apprehension.

My sight was dim and a rushing wind deafened my ears to all but my blood pumping. I was pulled deeper and deeper into the throat of what seemed to be a malevolent force. My hairs stood up as when you know you are being watched, but not from where. I felt the weight of a city above me, their sins and filth sliding down the floor beneath me, and I knew part of it was mine. I cried out for help, but was heard of no one. Time ticked itself to death and I knew I was alone. I slowed and was driven to me knees; dumped by whatever was carrying me. The cold stone seemed to swallow me and my heart slowed. I could hear my breaths echo as if off a wall or a presence directly in front of me, so close it made me quiver. But against all my apprehension, I reached out and felt nothing. The space was terrifying, and hungry. It drove from me all love and replaced it with crippling emptiness. I gave into despair and began to crawl. How long I crawled I do not know. Only that I crawled across the ripping cold stone until my palms bled. My tears burned cold trails down my cheeks.

And then I heard, as it were, the rushing of water. I began to claw my way to the noise, a small candle of hope began to flicker inside me. I called out to it, wanting there to be someone, something to hear me. The flowing noise got quieter as I approached. I reached out to the slight trickle to feel it. There was a rough stone wall before me and over its edge flowed a steady sheet of warm water. I became suddenly aware that my tongue was dry. No normal thirst it was. It was as a desert burning hot and dry inside me. And I made to scoop the water into my mouth as only one who is dying of thirst can. Frantically I pawed it into my mouth and then put my lips to the fountain and drank deeply for some time. All else did not matter, the glory of the drink was the only thing. It was all I had. Then, slowly, I began to taste. It was unlike any water I had before tasted. But somehow familiar; almost metallic. And then I knew it. It was not water at all. It was blood.

It ran its ponderous way down all the walls around me. I wretched, and wretched again. But nothing could cleanse me. And I was suddenly sure where I was; not in the sense that we know to be a surety of place, but I knew exactly where I was not.  

I began to shake violently. It was not a cold shiver or a fear tremble but a soul-shudder that had its roots deep inside me. I looked at my trembling hands and saw only shadow until they slowly materialized before me. I hardly recognized them, torn and blood-covered as they were. I sobbed as I stared and the deep realization came to me that I did not know who I had become. They were murderous hands. I saw them more clearly. The turning shadows my hands cast were projected onto the black stone behind them. There was light. It was a dark maroon shade coming from behind me. I wheeled and cried out when I saw the source.

A figure in a grey cloak held a grim lantern in his hand. Its slats were thin and jagged. The figure grasped it by a thorn-covered handle. The light was peculiar, unlike anything I had ever seen. But it was wonderful to see anything but darkness. I pulled myself to my feet and ran to the figure. As I approached I felt the air become colder. His hands were bone-thin and pale. And under his hood his face was weary and time worn. Great wrinkles crossed his translucent skin. I asked him to help me. He opened his mouth unnaturally wide and let out a death-rattle. The sound pierced me to the core. I slunk away terrified but he followed me. His light was just enough to help me puzzle out my surroundings. He followed behind me as I began to run deeper into the place.

The hall soon opened into an enormous chamber supported by great looming square pillars. I felt that I needed to cling close to them, as the open space scared me more than the narrow hallway I was in before. I looked up and saw the pillars disappear into a black void. My instincts told me to huddle down on the floor. A reverse-vertigo took hold of me and I crawled over to the nearest pillar. I felt something move beneath my hands. I looked deep into the black surface and saw nothing. Suddenly a serene face appeared. I felt it was akin to mine own, save for the grey thinning hair. As the face got closer, it changed. The skin sloughed off in great chunks and left only a skull. I gasped as I withdrew and I saw that inside all the pillars I could see half-rotted corpses writhing in silent agony.  

I turned to find the grey man pointing towards the center of the chamber. I followed his directive. I timidly made my way to the center, half-terrified and morbidly curious as to what I would find there. A pain-wracked shriek pierced the silence. And again I hid behind the nearest pillar, despite the horrors that were contained inside.

As I looked around the side of the pillar I realized I could see my breath. I covered my mouth to hide the mist and viewed the scene of horror before me. Black insect-like creatures covered an enormous ghastly machine. They chittered and clacked over its surface. Great beasts they were, half shadow and half spiked armor. They knew their business well. They were directed by a man in white. He stood on a platform of bodies well above them. His booming voice was a language I had never heard. One by one, the insects pulled a man or woman from the nearest pillar and pushed the poor screaming soul into the machine. They were soon silenced. I did not know what the machine was, but it seemed to be a sort of reverse baptism. I could take it no longer. I wished to die or be free of the place.

So I stepped from my hiding place and the man in white snapped his head in my direction and stared at me with piercing coldness. His gaze was tangible, it felt as if he could grab my throat and snap me like a twig. My knees buckled and my hair raised. He said, "You do not belong here..." Icy tears ran into my mouth and down my neck as I ran from the place. Faster and faster I ran. Until my lungs burned and my heart was about to burst. Soon I was gliding again. I could hear the man in white laughing behind me from deep within the chamber. It was not jovial, but hateful and full spite. "You do not belong here... yet," he screamed, "leave now!"

Soon the familiar fluorescent light and white-clad nurses greeted me again. And I woke with a cold sweat.

[Keep Following. Yes, this was actually a dream I had. Also, I'm growing a mustache.]

The General Rules #2 - The Necessity of "The Game" (Part 1)

"Could I trust you with my heart if I was sure you wouldn't break it?" (Yes, I just quoted myself).

This is a touchy subject and I am quite positive that I won't handle it as delicately as most of you would prefer. I also want to re-emphasize rule #1 when I started this segment. There are exceptions. Some of us know people who fell in love at first sight in High School and have been together ever since. This is not that story. This is what happens to the rest of us.

I start by quoting a sage Professor Young of BYU, "Our hopes are not always fulfilled. That, we have been told, is the nature of our existence here. And though good things can happen to us, though peace and joy are assured us according to our faith, the good things must often come through a process of struggle and disappointment and patient waiting." I'd like to take this idea a step further, and suggest that, "struggle, disappointment and patient waiting" are essential to the process of finding "true love."

We all have the same story somewhere in our early childhood. For me it was a CD player. For others it may have been a bike or a video game or a Barbie. I wanted a CD player when I was 12. It was a Philips 45 second anti-skip jogproof CD player and it was $25. It was this one:

Beautiful isn't it? But the problem with being 12 is that you have no money. Or job by which one may ascertain said funds. So I saved. I begged. I mowed lawns. I did extra chores. And slowly but surely I saved enough and the day came when I triumphantly marched into Target and bought my prize. I took amazing care of this thing. I kept it clean, avoided dropping it, and never went jogging with it. And it rewarded me with TEN years of faithful service before being irrevocably replaced by my iPod. (Which is still running strong after almost six years.) The point of this story is that I worked for this CD player. I put sweat and long hours of waiting and daydreaming into earning this CD player. I treasured it because I earned it. And it rewarded me by going the distance.

Most of us also have a sad story that runs in an opposite vein to the story above. It goes something like this: we asked our parents for something and they got it right away for us, and we played with it for a total of twenty-four hours before the infatuation rubbed off and it sat in a box somewhere for years only to be sold for 120% off at a garage sale. Horrible isn't it?

Before I get into the meat of this post, I'd like you all to remember that old cliche that reminds us, "We all want what we can't have."

 Like my CD player, boys and girls will obsess about each other. We will wait for months or maybe years harboring a small, flickering hope that that special someone will eventually want, need, or even notice us. We all have that hopeless crush. That original person that never knew we existed. Oh Megan, how your flaxen locks will forever haunt me. Ironically, the thing that keeps this perversely ridiculous hope alive is the fact that it will never be fulfilled. Read that last line again. I'm proud of it. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why can't we be happy with what is given to us? Why can't we be satisfied with the toy our parents bought us on a whim? Why can't we be satisfied with a "game-free", simple, no-nonsense, straightforward, forthcoming, easy relationship?

The answer is pride. We simply view ourselves and our worth as humans kind of like a university is rated by how many applicants it turns away. There is something grossly satisfying about turning away applicants for our love and affection. It makes us feel wanted. Important. Worth more than we actually are. From this elevated self-view we draw our lacking self-esteem. No one, I repeat no one, wants to be easy. We want to be more complicated than we are. We want to feel as though we are the best around. In love we do not want to be cheap recipients. Nor do we want to earn the love of someone else at no cost. For, in either situation, we feel like less than we are worth. No one wants the cheaply attained gift. We want the challenge. We live for the challenge. When all is said and done and love is deemed mutual, neither party wishes to look back upon the road leading to this junction and think, "My, that was easy!" because this would inevitably lead into thoughts of, "Why did I end up with this person no one else wanted? What is wrong here?" And like many things, at that point we will create the evidence to support the belief. We will start making things up in our minds to get out.

To avoid this thought process, "The Game" was invented. Its very name is laughably ironic. Because the nature of a game usually includes fun. And this Game is only fun if you are winning. And I will tell you right now, in this specific game, there are very few winners. Though the Game is hard and confusing and at times wrenches on our heartstrings. It is a necessary evil. For it alone will help us look back upon our road and be able to say, "I did it. I did it when no one else could. I am in love with a person who is in love with me alone. And while everyone else wanted what we have, only I got it. Now I can trust this person with my heart. Because I know for a fact that they can break it."

[Keep following parts 2 and 3 are coming soon to an internet near you.]