Is any of this real? Am I real? Probably I may never live to know about the truth behind it all but each and every vision I have must have a reason. If this is all just imagination, why am I imagining it. Imagination is all I have got and pain always accompanies imagination.I don’t even remember when I saw my family together last time before seeing them together buried in their graves. My father and mother were separated when I was 3 and my brother Shawn wasn’t even born. He cheated on her when she was pregnant with my little brother and that eventually led to their divorce. I used to live with my mom and Shawn. I never could hate my father, he was always a guardian to me and never really misbehaved with either of us, never gave us a reason to hate him but mom didn’t want him around so we only met him when Mom couldn’t look after us. He changed town after a few years and never contacted us again, at least that’s what Mom told me. I never accepted it as truth. But anyhow we never heard of him again. “They can’t be dead, can they?” I thought to myself feeling helpless. It’s a pathetic situation for a mind to be in when you with all your heart want to know the whereabouts of someone or something but have no means to reach them.
“You seem troubled my friend” a voice said. I look up to him giving me that same smile he gave before and those eyes glistening with joy as if they search for trouble to lighten them up, the Dreamer was back. “Are they dead?” I stammered asking helplessly “my family, are they dead?”
“Depends on how definitive you consider death to be” he replied.”Well I believe death is just death, it doesn’t take you away to a new world of angels or a hell full of demons, it just puts you to an end” he added. “I don’t think we live all these years, go through all the pain and suffering, or cherish the joy out of little things to face a final judgment for a life after death, because if that’s the case then all the meaning is taken from the word death” he continued. “Anyhow, you need to gather yourself up and go look for her and if you have trouble finding the right vision, here this will help you out” he said swinging a bat at my head and I fell on the ground and hit me again as a blur filled my eyes.
It was all exactly how I used to imagine it would be. I wrote a poem about it
Here’s your fear and here’s your pain,
All you love smashed to dirt to paint the frame,
This is not meant to be a treat for your eyes
The carpet of crimson speaks the filth of your life
One doesn’t decides when to do this walk
It comes for one and it comes for all
The day when you’ll meet the devil inside
Darker than a night in the forest when no moon fills up the skies
It sucks out your soul and hangs it aside
Leaving your body all drained and dried.
He paints the path and the walls red
From your blood and the memories of dread.
You’re not alone in this mess
Your friends, love and family lay ahead.
It was a nightmare that used to haunt me and now it seemed to be a part of my reality. I was walking through it all my shoes forgetting their original shade being painted in red from all the blood on the floor. I could see my parents their dried and hollow bodies lying as if waiting that all the blood lying around will fill them up, I was filled with sorrow, shame and disgust at the same time. I walk ahead to see my brother hanging from the wall. I felt as if my heart will burst from pain and my brain will blast through my skull but was all helpless. I dropped on the floor and laying flat on the ground, I could feel all the strength seeping out of me just then I saw Frank rising from the blood covered ground saying “Save Samantha, Florence will kill her” repeatedly. I was still laying on the ground in shock after seeing his body that was torn in half “Run ahead, Florence will kill her” he shouted. I stood and started running down the Crimson Route. Samantha was nowhere to be found until I saw the pool. The pool full of blood from the previous vision I used to have. I walked closer towards it knowing what was to follow. I could see her body floating in the pool, covered in red, her face severed. But I was able to recognize her. I knew now who Samantha was but didn’t recall her name back then when I should have. She was my girlfriend lying dead infront of me. I jumped into the pool and swam towards her body, held her in my arms. “Florence” I said gutting my teeth. “FLORENCE” I said screaming at the top of my voice.