Dreams

I keep having this dream. It isn't a nightmare, but it's not a good dream either. This dream always begins with an empty bench. The scene is different each time, but the empty bench is not. It is an old wooden bench, the kind that would give splinters if sat on recklessly. I am always compelled to sit on this bench, no matter where this bench was. The only other consistent aspect of that dream is I am the only one sitting on it. Except this time, there was another.

I could see the back of a head with long black hair. This person was very tall. The bench was in the middle of a forest that overlooked a lake. The trees were dry and dead as they began their winter hibernation, but I was not cold. Twigs and leaves lay scattered across the dirt floor. Everything was still, including the figure sitting on the bench. I walked gingerly toward the figure. Snapping dried foliage as I did. I came upon the figure and beheld a man. He was stoic as he looked out through the trees at the lake. I was not afraid of him. He turned to me. He was racially ambiguous, with sharp, dark features. He had one blue eye and one brown eye. His lips were thin and they didn't attempt to utter a word to me. His clothes were appropriate for being out in the woods, except he wore no shoes or socks. He motioned to the bench seat to sit down. I sat.

As soon as I sat the man put his hand on mine and nodded. When I looked back toward the lake the scene had changed. I was in my childhood home. The one I lived in before I was taken away from my parents. It wasn't a typical house in the traditional sense. It was built out of cinderblocks, with one window and one room. The window was covered with a tattered blanket. This scene was familiar to me. I slept on the floor in the corner away from the window with my own tattered blanket. My mom and dad were huddled together underneath the window.

I sat on the bench with the man who was still holding my hand. I didn't understand. I wanted to get up and wrap a coat around little me in the corner, but the man wouldn't allow it. I looked over at him. There were silent tears rolling down his face. Finally, I understood. This was the night everything changed. I sat fearful. There was a loud noise, and a blinding light. I fought with the man on the bench to try to protect myself, but he held me to the bench. His eyes were tired and full of anguish. He simply put his finger to his lips and pointed to the chaotic scene.

Police officers streamed into this tiny domicile. I was stepped on multiple times because they couldn't see me. There was screaming, and my father started tussling with multiple officers. I was yelling in the corner, but no one was paying attention to me. I began to reach out to my little self but the scene changed back to the forest and lake. I looked over at the man. He was sobbing violently tearing at his clothes. The only thing I could think of was to hold him. I wrapped my arms around him and he continued to sob. I began to cry too. This lasted for what seemed like hours. We finally ended our embrace. When I looked at his face again, the tears and the flushed cheeks were gone. There were no signs that he had ever been crying in the first place. He put his finger to his lips and pointed toward the lake.

The scene had changed again and I was in high school. The bench was in the middle of the gym. I found myself having an argument with an old boyfriend. Based off the boyfriend this was my senior year of high school. It was the day I found out he was cheating on me. I remember I had confronted him about it, and he never denied it. Instead he told me it was my fault he strayed because I didn't support his dream of being a pro athlete. He called me many hurtful names. I tried to retaliate but couldn't find the words to tell him off. I sat on the bench watching him berate me. The man sitting next to me wasn't holding my hand at this point. Instead he motioned me toward the fighting couple. I wanted to get off that bench and intervene, but I felt fear. I couldn't bring myself to get up off the bench. I looked over at the man and he was frustrated. Again he motioned toward the fighting couple. I felt helpless. I slunk back down on the bench. I looked over at the man and his frustration turned into anger. He shook his head in disappointment.

I looked away from him. The scene once again changed back to the lake in the forest. All was just as we left it, still. After a some time I looked back over at the man sitting on the bench with me. His head was down and his fists were clenched. I could see his chest heave rhythmically as if he was about to blow up. I stretched out my hand to place on his back but before I could place it his head whipped around toward me. I could see his blue and brown eyes were bulging out of their sockets, and the vein in his neck was pronounced. I withdrew, afraid of what he was capable of. Without warning he threw his head back and attempted to let out a primordial scream. I couldn't hear his scream, even though it looked as though it could be heard from the other side of the lake.

He finished. His hands unclenched, his body released all the tension. I tried to reach out again. This time I made contact with his shoulder. Once I found that he wasn't going to hurt me I moved in closer and hugged him from the side, laying my head on his arm. I rubbed his back and quietly processed the events that just happened, beginning with the unrelenting grief, and then ending with this display of animalistic rage. As I was laying my head there, I felt peace. Even after witnessing those two extreme emotions there was always peace in between. I sat up straight and looked up at the man. His eyes were closed and his stoic expression returned.

I moved back to the other side of the bench. I laid my hands in my lap and began to take deep breaths. Slowly and methodically I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. I looked beyond the trees, and stared at the lake. The lake looked dark and ominous from my seat. Like everything else however, it was still. It didn't seem like there was life in this lake.

After a few more deep breaths I looked over at the man sitting with me. His eyes were still closed, and his expression had not changed. It felt nice having company on this bench for once. I reached over and moved his long hair from the front of his shoulder to the back. He opened his eyes slowly. At first, I waited for him to acknowledge me again but he never did. His statuesque silence made me feel uncomfortable. I placed my hand on his shoulder and he filched away from me. That reaction took me by surprise. He looked at me and his face looked youthful but full of fear. I was confused. I tried again to hold his hand and again he flinched away from me. I withdrew my hand feeling rejected. I placed my hands in my lap.

Something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye and when I turned to look, I saw that there was a ripple effect beginning in the lake. I looked back at the man. He was still cowering but this time he was staring straight at me. I softened my gaze and turned my look of rejection into a look of empathy. I saw the sadness in his eyes begin to dissipate and turn into relief. I placed my hands over my heart. Then stretched out my arms as a giving gesture. I was in that position not long before the man put his hands in mine. My attention was taken back to the lake. There were more ripples despite there being nothing around to cause them.

I craned my head to see if tree branches were falling. As I did my hand slipped and I got a splinter in the middle of my palm. It felt like a knife had cut through my palm. I turned my hand over and there was blood trickling out of the wound. I was angry with myself for being so careless. I knew this bench was old and prone to splinters but I was careless anyway. I looked over at the man. He looked exasperated and annoyed with the situation as well, as if he was the one who wounded himself. He took off his shirt and handed it to me. I refused it feeling as though I deserved this injury. He insisted, looking more annoyed. I turned away from him in anger. Unfortunately, I moved in such a way that the cracked wood pinched my leg making me yelp and jump. This time, the man sat me back down on the bench forcibly. His eyes were squinting in anger. This made me livid with the man. I shoved him back and put my finger in his face. My injuries were my own. He had no right to be upset with me and my actions.

This time there was a huge splash coming from the lake. I turned and saw a huge plume of water jutting out of the lake. I looked back at the man. He was gone. I stood still holding my hand and cautiously walked toward the lake. The lake was no more than a hundred feet from the bench. I looked back and saw that the bench was still empty when I arrived at the lake's edge. The surface was still disturbed and rippling. I leaned over, trying desperately to peer into the darkness. Just as the surface began to settle I felt pressure on my back, and I'm flung into the lake. Thus waking me from my dream.