Anger Management

I’m not sure why I was even at the apartment or who exactly the woman seated on the couch was, but I knew I didn’t like her. That she was invading. That I needed to have a talk with the guy who lived here. The woman was offering me a bowl of cereal. No. Just get him. I want to get this over with. She smiled with a mischievous eye, as if she knew she had power over me. Told me he wasn’t here. I could find him at some other address or come back later.

So later I came and left not long after feeling verbally slapped in the face. Licking my wounds I headed back to work. To check with the stage manager about any notes before she jumped on her moped to head home. I barely caught up with her. With engine growling we went over the list as an alarm sounded. A neighbor overhead screamed for us to get inside and quick. My co-worker floored her moped and turned sharply. Too sharply. And slammed into a concrete column. Go go she beckoned. She’d catch up.

I tore into the neighbor’s house screams all around. Burst into the bathroom and yanked at the handle just as the sound of an explosion shook the building. Through the narrowing gap I caught a glimpse of the metal frame and strange metallic mesh that formed the thing. A gasp escaped me as the door thudded shut and I threw myself against the far wall. Too late. A metallic arm thrust itself through the vent in the wall and slammed me against the bathroom tile. A scream. I couldn’t tell if it was from me. It was all too surreal. The arm readjusted, flicked upward and threw me to the porcelain tub below. The last thing I remember feeling was the coldness of the porcelain beneath me, a warmth spreading through me and the blood. The bitter bitter taste of blood.

I thought you were supposed to wake up before you hit the ground.

Last night’s dream was so vivid. So lucid. A terrifying visual jaunt in surround sound. And I could pinpoint the odd combination of the book I was reading, the movie I saw and the personal thoughts and daily actions that made up this terror. Bourbon and anger right before bed is not a good combination apparently.