A Grim Day

I saw Death this morning. As I lay in bed, lost somewhere between waking and sleep. The dark silvery laced place in which I find myself a times. It moved when I noticed it, slipped out the window. I wondered why it was there. It’s not the first time I’ve seen it. The first time I was filled with dread, as It appeared to me in a mirror. The empty sockets staring into me. It hit me with its scythe. I fled in terror, thinking to myself that this can’t be real. It comes to us though at times of great change in our lives. I think the hardest part of seeing it is the sadness and loneliness that comes off of it in waves. A job so thankless, feared, in some cases reviled. If I can say one thing about the Grimm Reaper, it is lonely, and it knew I would run. As countless others probably have before and after me.

A thankless job, to guide the confused, lost, or angry souls to whatever is beyond the veil. I wonder what deal was made back in antiquity. I imagine in my world behind my eyes, that Death was the first human, truly conscious human, or perhaps one of the great heroes before recorded times such as Gilgamesh. Who made a deal with the gods or perhaps the heavens to allow us all to cross over after our time was done. In exchange they had to stand guard and help each of us cross over, to stand as a visage known as Death until the end of time. At least that’s what I’d like to think.

As death slipped out my window and the waking world come onto me, light flooding my room. I could not but help wonder if change was truly coming. The last time I saw it I started traveling to in between sleep and the waking world. Some of it has been inspiring, some of it has been horrifying. Things that gnaw and grasp at my prone form as I lie in bed. I struggled at first to get up, and still do at times. For awhile I just fled to the waking world every time a horror visited. I have grown tired of fleeing. Now I fight.

It is not easy, it’s hard to remain calm as I’m being clawed at or a hand reaches up and grabs a leg as I lay in bed. I am better at realizing when I’m not awake now. As the world around me shifts and bends. Many times, I never actually see what I’m fighting. I grab it from behind me, and I can never get it in front of me. a sort of struggle with and unseen but definitely felt apparition. I pull and grab, every time I get one hand off of me another grabs me. Sometimes I’m able to get up and trudge out of my room and outside into the light and I throw it from me. whatever it is seems to suddenly be gelatinous and melts away in the light. The times I’ve done this, it all stops for a time, I have restful sleep for a week or two, maybe a full month, but it always comes back. Pulling me from normal dreams to a place I want to understand but have been unable to.

I live a haunted life, both waking and while my body rests. I wonder at times if it’s all interconnected. If the voices I hear and things I see while I’m awake have something to do with the things that come for me as I rest. Part of me thinks they are, and part of me just pretends none if it exists….


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