Flashback Friday: The dream

Flashback Friday

The most vivid dream I've ever had from the active subconscious of my teenage self...

I woke calmly close to four o'clock in the morning. A thick silence filled my 11-year-old house. Through the darkness I crept down the stairs I knew by heart. I saw the silhouette of my mother standing silent, blankly staring out our front window.

Without approaching the window, I stepped out into the bitter night. The rain splashed on my warm skin and a sharp wind whipped around me. There in the rain-flooded yard stood a familiar man amidst a mess of our possessions.

He appeared to be aware of my presence but made no attempt to acknowledge me. Thunder shook the siding on my house and lightning lit up the sky. He didn't even flinch. In fact he remained motionless for what seemed like forever.

In the silence, I took a good look at the man I had called my father for nineteen years. He looked the same as he had when he left six years before. His shiny black hair was full but neatly trimmed. On his nose rested his thick, black-framed glasses. He was comfortably dressed and he held his 6'3'' frame with confidence.

After forever passed, he picked up and held in front of him a rug he and my mother had owned all of their 22 years together. He held it high and stared at it as if it were something sacred. For a moment, I thought he was going to tear it in two. Instead, he lay it carefully on the ground in front of him.

From a garbage bag to his right, he pulled out two objects. One, a pole that extended to be 30 or 40 feet long. The other was something I had never seen before. I held my breath as he raised his eyes to mine. His sparkling hazel eyes, identical to mine, now appeared cold and black. He seemed to look right through me. I don't think he even knew who I was.

"If this doesn't work, you will finish for me." His powerful voice I had grown to both resent and love rang loud in my ears. A sharp blade landed at my feet and I backed into the corner of my porch. I was frozen with fear and confusion.

Despite my terror, my body managed to shake and tremble at its own will. I stole a quick glance at my mother in the window to see that she had yet to move and remained expressionless. I slowly turned my head back to my father to see him move in calculated, controlled motions.

He raised the unfamiliar object to his mouth and it extended one foot to his left and six feet to his right. On the long end there were hundreds of tiny, reflective mirrors covering a platform the size of a pizza box. He reached for the long pole and raised it high above his head in both hands, dropping to his knees.

Once again the thunder rattled through the walls of my childhood home. I closed my eyes to block out the event unfolding before me. The lightning flashed and electricity surged through my father, illuminating the whole street and brightening even the backs of my eyelids.

He didn't scream or even groan as the powerful current raced through his body, boiling his blood and ending his life.

I heard his body fall to the grass with a soft thump and the pole tinkered to the sidewalk. The rain stopped and the wind settled. One of the tiny mirrors shifted as it settled, reflecting back to me the unchanged, blank expression of my mother.

A strange courage arose in me. I brought myself to my feet and approached my lifeless father. I bent down close to his face. The cold air swirling around us sent a chill up my spin. I blew him a kiss and allowed him to step out of my life one last time.