Saturday, December 03, 2011

Dorothy! Go Back from Whence you Came!

It isn't often that I'm alone in the house at night, but I have been alone this week because Stephen was away, working in Finland. He's back now.

There's been a lot going on recently that feels "different" from usual, I have been doing some very "heavy" roleplays about end-of-life issues and there have been workmen outside the house for what seems like forever - - and I tend to have bad dreams anyway - - so it wasn't entirely surprising that I had a nightmare.

Suddenly I was wide awake. I had woken myself up by shouting, at the top of my voice, in tones of horror that terrified me, "DOROTHY! GO BACK FROM WHENCE YOU CAME!"

I don't know what the rest of the nightmare was about - - something about statues in a cave that needed to be restored - - and I couldn't work out what this loud shout was for.

I've only ever known two Dorothys - - my lovely cousin Dorothy in Barrow-in-Furness who makes wonderful cakes, and the Communist's sister, who died a few years ago.

I don't think it was either of those two. And I don't know where the Dorothy of my dream came from, but I was very scared and I wanted her to go back there.

It's odd after a nightmare. Everything seems different. I was wide awake of course. I had a quick wander round the top floor of the house to check that there weren't any marauding Dorothys, and then read for a little while. Then I switched the bedside light out to go to sleep and switched it straight back on again as everything was too dark and full of Scary Things.

I slept for a while with the light on - - then woke up again to the grey dawn light, and the understanding that the sun was coming up. Another day was here and the unseen terror was gone.

The terror from a nightmare is a terror like no other, a kind of primeval horror that blocks out all sense and daylight. I am still haunted by a nightmare of my childhood about a bent old woman, dressed in black, walking along a country road, who looked up when I asked her who she was.

"The Dead of the Dead" she replied.

Yes, I'm still scared, thinking about it.


Blogger rhymeswithplague said...

Obviously it was Dorothy Gayle from Kansas and you were either Auntie Em calling her home or the assembled Munchkins as she took leave of Oz. Perhaps you were channeling Toto.

8:22 pm  
Blogger Yorkshire Pudding said...

Wicked Witch of the West: Heh heh heh heh heh heh!

12:21 pm  
Anonymous Mike Deakin said...

I know rather too many Dorothys!

11:20 pm  
Anonymous Milo said...

Oh dear - you know what this brought to mind? The possessed girl in the bed in the film - The Exorcist...!!! *shudder*

Relieved on Stephen's behalf that he wasn't there! Would have been terrifying.

10:24 pm  

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