I have a great fascination with hearing tales. I happily occupied the lap of Grandmom as a child listening to her thrilling stories. This is not exceptional, as listened from my Mom too. I love to hear the stories from her. She cracked her experiences of her days in a Medical degree course. The incidents related to the dissection of the dead bodies for practical classes were quite thrilling and exciting. I enjoyed the anecdotes explained by her with action and sounds. I laughed at her when she mocked with actions and choked her throat. I pretend to be innocent and asked her to repeat it again and again till it seeped into my mind. The incidents which I am going to narrate is what I experienced in my dream, the nightmare.
It was a chill, roaring, and thundery rainy night. The windows were shaking with loud sounds, and the curtains were dashing each other. It was raining so heavily that the beats of the showers were piercing my ears. I was stuck in the worst nightmare where I could not even move, scream, or run. The crack sound of the door horrified me. There was a shade in front of me. A lady with fiery red eyes, fluffy open hair, dressed in a white flare dress, was staring at me. I was shaking from head to toe. I was not able to speak as my throat choked due to fear. The horrified lady with screamy black and red tears dripping onto the cheeks said, “I have been waiting for long many years to take you with me to that beautiful destination where the cross-section of dead bodies is done and today is the ultimate day to take you there.”
I was afraid of hearing the quote of the horrifying lady. I stared at her, my heartbeat increased, and I wanted to escape from the room. I dashed the door hard and came out of the room with force. I started running with astonishing speed. Completely drenched.
I could not manage to run fast anymore. Suddenly when I turned back, I saw the lady behind me. Gathered the guts to run again and finally entered a lonely park. The black scary dark sky covered the park. As it was a windy day, the strong waves of wind pushed me back towards the lady. I tried to scream and shout, but so tight that I could not pull out my voice. I was finally stuck in a nightmare and trapped by the lady. “Alas! You are trapped,” she said.
The lady tried to console me with sympathy, “You will enjoy the best company in the dissection room where the dead bodies are waiting to welcome you.”
My hands were tied with a stiff rope, and my mouth taped. I was escorted to the dissection room hall where the dead bodies were screaming. At last, I fainted. I did not wake up anymore. I could not even bid my parents goodbye for my early departure to the morgue. The worst part was that I forgot the looks of my parents.
Suddenly, I regained consciousness. I found myself lying on the floor of the dark dissection room. The dead bodies were smiling at each other. I gained the strength to rescue myself, break the locked door with great force, and started running towards the main road. The road was clear, and I didn’t give up strength because I have to be with my parents again. It was a terrible nightmare for me, and now I am awake; I swear it will affect me every second. And I will be yelling and dying with fear and pain for this nightmare.
The dream continued and added up with the real situation faced by my Grandpa as narrated by Mom when I was a child. My Grandpa was a very picky person and particular with his stylish attitude. It was the night before his wedding when he passed through my Grand Mom’s house. He was thinking of Grand Mom at that time. It was around 2 am, and he was on the way to his home from a feast. Suddenly his eyes caught with a finely dressed girl dressed in white with long hair walking in the opposite direction to a destination. My Grandpa mistook her for Grand Mom and started following her. The lady strolled, but Grandpa could not reach her though he was riding his bicycle with astonishing speed. The intensity and curiosity of coming near her increased, but he could not manage to go close to her.
At last, he was in the mid of the playing ground. Just adjacent to it was the post mortem room where the examination of dead bodies is carried out. Grandpa was in the hope of meeting the girl. But unfortunately, a patrolling car approached him. When the brake was released hard with sound, he regained his consciousness. When interrogated about his visit to this lonely strange place in the late midnight, he explained that the maid at home was in a high-grade fever and he had come to call the physician to his house. The policeman on duty was surprised and asked him to leave the place immediately. The policeman also told him that if he needs any assistance to reach his home, they can help him. As Grandpa did not want to confess the actual incident, he left the place without asking for their assistance. While on the way, Grandpa recounted the incidence he had goosebumps with a choked voice. He somehow managed to reach his home with great fear and anxiety. This story also heated my body, and the day when I had to dream the same incident on my part, I was like a dead body lying on the bed.
The next morning, I woke up with puffy eyes and blocked memory. I spent the whole day thinking about the nightmare. I had snacks with tea and sat down for the preparation of the half-yearly exam. It was almost 11 pm when I had supper, winded up all my works, and was ready for sleep. Suddenly the fear and frustration paved me from every side. My body was cold with calm extremities. Though I was frustrated, I fell asleep. I was half asleep when the freaking nightmare knocked in my dream: the chill, roaring, thundery rainy night. The tremendous beats of rainfall and wind with sounds were shocking and fearful. My trapping voice and faint memory pushed me out of the bedroom. I was suffocating and shouting for help. By this time, my voice was not choked. It was clear as earlier. I was not miming. I got up with anguish, though, but I had the guts to face the worst dream, the nightmare. The chill and dark black night could not invade me. My Grandpa’s incidence of his young age, as well as the worst dream of dissection room, faded away. I was strong enough to face a nightmare with courage. And from then on, I never experienced any scary dream.
Moral- Believe in yourself, believe in reality and not in nightmares.
By: Chaandneeka Choudhury
NPS International School, Guwahati, Assam
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