It was fitting that the night I wrote about dreams and how we all need dreams in our lives, that I dreamt. Not one of those dreams that whisk you away to a quiet walk on a beach with a friend but one of those dreams that wakes you in a panic and it takes you several minutes to convince yourself that you’re okay and it was just a dream — but it stays with you… all day. In your thoughts. In your fears. In your heart. This dream has stayed with me. It was bloody and gruesome and disturbing and alarming and made me feel helpless and lost and scared…
The lion was on the prowl.
Lurking around, out of sight,
Hidden from me.
Hidden from the others.
It pounced all at once and you were gone — ripped apart, shattered.
I looked away so I wouldn’t see.
I tried to calm the others and told them to look away as well.
Escape was impossible.
We stayed hidden as long as we could — if we stayed hidden it couldn’t touch us.
Then you went outside the safe,
It saw you and you were gone — ripped apart and shattered.
I looked away again — I just couldn’t see.
There was screaming.
There was panic.
It prowled — slowly, pacing, watching, waiting.
Waiting for us to think it was gone — but it never was.
We knew if we could just get away, it would be over.
We would be safe.
There was an opening in the clearing — some ran.
They made it.
But I stayed there — too scared to move.
Knowing when I moved it would see me — it was me it was after.
I looked out and you were walking closer… trying to reach me.
“It sees you!”
But you couldn’t hear — my mouth wide open but no sound came.
It slowly approached and still you walked towards me — unaware it was there,
waiting to take you too.
I ran out to stop it — but my feet were frozen to the ground under me.
I can’t move… help me I can’t move.
I waved my arms and threw a rock — it laughed at me… it laughed.
It ran towards you as I watched.
I could do nothing.
And you too, were gone.
…I awoke. It was over. It was just a dream. I listened closely to hear the roar, the roar from that horrible lion. All I heard was the faint bark of a dog from a neighboring home. The quiet left me paralyzed briefly. I stretched from under the armor of the covers to hear the roar — I just knew I would hear the roar. The fog that was wreaking havoc on my mind was lifting and giving way to the real world that surrounded me — I would not hear the roar, it didn’t exist. Perhaps tonight.