Internal Creations

I awoke to find myself surrounded on all sides by a blinding light, voices echoing inside my head. I was lying down, stretched out as if on a crucifix, every part of me held down tightly. A face appeared over me, but I only glimpsed his three eyes before the light blinded me again. A voice in my ear told me to relax, that it wasn’t over yet. My weak body became paralyzed with pain as I slipped from consciousness.

I dreamed that I was a boy again, and that my brother was still alive. We were walking with our father through a freshly plowed field to the forest. Father was teaching us how to hunt... How far away we were from the city!

Just as we entered the forest, my father cried out; a poisonous snake had bitten his heel. He had crushed its head with his foot, but it was already too late. Blood and venom dripped from the puncture-wound. Already he had become delirious, crying for us to call a doctor. I began to run back to the house. I ran as if I had been given angels’ wings, but when I reached the house, everything had changed; my aged and gray father was waiting for me. He was dressed completely in black and was standing solemnly by the door, as if waiting for someone. I could hear my mother crying inside. But then all was silent as six pallbearers emerged from the house, carrying a white casket. Tears broke through my eyes as I gave myself over to the memories. I quietly followed the coffin to the grave.

As I watched them lower it into the ground, I glanced at the headstone: Dedicated to the memory of a son and his mother. No! Why had tragedy struck my family so hard in so little time? Mother... Peter...