Waiting For Me

There were nights where I would have nightmares and eventually they just became what felt like (bad) omens. But as I lay here writing this passage, I am attempting to take these night terrors into the light and guide them where I want them to go.

I cry inside. Fear lurking it’s way from the pit of my heart, the deepest part of my soul. But my mind telling me to hold on and guide the fear into the light that I have seen for a while now.

And so it all began.

Night terrors.

The train station was filled with people I knew. Faces I couldn’t see, but souls I could sense. Their presence was strong and their auras illuminating in the day light. We began to play tag on the main level of the train station. As I stood at the entrance to the staircase down to a subway, my friend was coming to tag me. I ran down the stairs. As I ran it became dark. It became the basement that will forever live with me.

I was at the bottom of the staircase at grandmas house on Orange street. To my left, the dark and damp furnace room with the dryer, washer, and two sinks right next to one another. To my right, the living room bright enough for me to see the tan couch across from where I was looking and the glossy floor barely carpeted throughout.

My friend was coming to tag me, but all of a sudden there was a wall vertically in between us. He peeked his head to one side and across the other side of the room playing peek-a-boo like little kids going back and forth, back and forth and then he disappeared and ran. I ended up running away from him, afraid that he was going to get me. I ran into the furnace room.

All of a sudden I stopped. I saw a line of poj ntxoog (Hmong ghosts) standing right in front of the furnace that was in the corner of the cold, dark, and damp room. They had traditional black clothing on with a red sash over their waist, a Hmong basket, and an offering of a golden egg laying on top of a nest with incense. The one poj ntxoog held it out to me, patiently waiting, wanting me to come with them. They didn’t have to ask, I already knew. I stood frozen in my steps before I mentally realized what was happening and who I was really standing in front of.

I woke up, cried, stunned, my heart racing, my face and body sweating. I jumped out of my bed, turned on my lights and called that friend that was in my dream. I called and asked him if he was okay .. I didn’t know what to say or what to even tell him. Was I okay?  It’s as if that was the only thing I could do to make myself come back to reality.


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