The Nightmare

I simply didn’t like it!

I’ve only had one real nightmare in my life. By “nightmare”, I don’t mean those disturbing dreams that leave you puzzled as to where that idea came from, or what it means. My dreams can be truly bizarre, but with this one exception, they’re never scary, because I know I can wake up at any time.

This particular dream happened when I was thirteen, and had all the makings of a real-life horror movie. In retrospect, I’m sure it was part of the process that created the Prison Earth series this blog is promoting. Prison Earth is a work of fiction, but the nightmare is as vivid a reality today as it was all those years ago.

I woke up in a dark place, my gut clenching with the uncomfortable certainty that I didn’t want to be there.

A blazing light suddenly appeared ahead of me, revealing a small room at the end of a long corridor. Someone I couldn’t see was pushing me toward what looked like an operating room. Though most of the room was fuzzy in my recollection, a single operating table in the middle riveted my attention. Bright lights made the table glow, and at various points around its head were cone-like objects on support stands. The cones were long and tapered to a needle-sharp point.

I felt my eyes bulge, and struggled as strong hands gripped my arms and heaved me onto the table. I don’t remember being strapped down, but I couldn’t move as a figure, dressed like a physician preparing to operate, loomed over me. A mask hid his face, but in the glaring light, his hands were as white as sunlit snow.

I fought against the unseen bonds as the individual began adjusting one of the cones, moving it closer to my head. I desperately wanted to push his hand away, but my own muscles would not respond, forcing me to watch in shivering terror as the cone drew nearer, and nearer, and…

Just as it touched me, I woke up, covered in sweat and breathing harder than if I’d just run a marathon. I jumped out of bed, searched for any sign of what I’d just seen. It seemed far too real to be a dream, and yet, here I was in my own room with no unexpected holes in my head.

With time, the effects of the dream faded, and I tried to tell myself it was just a stupid nightmare. Everybody has them. Obviously, I didn’t completely succeed. If I had, my novel, Prison Earth, might never have been written. But I still had to wonder why I felt so humiliated by that dream, and was certain the world would brand me a lunatic for even mentioning what I had experienced.

Was it real or imagined? I’ve heard of alien abductions, and like most other people, I find them hard to believe. Maybe they are fakes, or…maybe we’re just programmed to dismiss them out of hand.

What do you think? Has something like this ever happened to you? Could another race of people be controlling our lives?

Most of the time I’m sure they aren’t, but…then I remember the dream.

Clifford M. Scovell
Prison Earth – Not Guilty as Charged
http://www.prison-earth.com

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