I’ve never seen his face
posted in Journal Entries |“The dream is always the same.” I mumbled. I had already rehearsed it to her several times and each time she responded in the same uninterested and emotionless tone…
“Tell me about your dream.” Even though she could not see my face, the corners of my mouth pulled into a frown and I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t that I hated this dream, it was just out of the hour I spent with her three times a week, I think she would have worked out what the meaning behind this nightmare was, and why the hauntings refused to let my tired, worn body rest.
“The stairs are old, used and painted in a reverse rainbow. I start on a violet step and the walls are black. As I begin my descent, I feel the room cool and I watch my breath escape my lips as a billow of smoke from a factory, inhuman and hot. The heat from my exhale scorches the tip of my nose and forehead as it passes by and disapates into the black vast above.
The indigo step takes me across the world at such a velocity the wind pulls back against my cheeks and feeds on the tears forming in my eyes. As much as they sting and instantly redden, I cannot close them for fear of falling…”
“Are you in the air?” she asks. In mid sentance my mouth hangs on the continuation of my tale.
“I am miles above a planet of blue, deeper that the ocean on a dark day.” I wait but she makes no sound. The clock on the wall reminds me that my one hundred and eighty dollars per session are slipping from my possession like coins falling from an open window… click… click… click.
“This world approaches at an alarming rate and I worry that my legs will break as I touch down, but my feet land solid and I feel no inpact. No jarring that creaks up your body and makes your teeth ache. I am simply there as if I had never left, but I notice that I had moved on to the blue step.
The wind has died and there is no sound, as if I had entered a vaccum. I feel weightless again, this time without the feeling of vertigo, the unease or fear that my life could end in an instance. I usually stay here, for this is bliss. I am watching a sunset and I feel its heat on my face and bare skin. I look down and realize that I am shirtless. My lucid, frail frame reflecting the sunlight back at such a close comparison, I feel that I may be burning it instead of the opposite. There is someone standing next to me, the same glow eminates from his flesh as it does mine. He urges me to go on.
As I step onto the green step I feel a comfort much like being pressed into my mothers breast. A welcome feeling of security and love. I feel understood even though I am not asking for anything or making any attempt of communication. As bubble floats by and I look at my reflection and I am shocked to see myself in a stage of infancy, and as any child would do, I reach out with clumsy and unsure fingers to pop the image before me. As if a dam had been destroyed, a thick flow of liquid gold floods from the bubble and begins to fill the now small room, where I am alone and I panic.
The walls are too close and the top is too small for my head to fit through. As I struggle to hold the only thing keeping me coherent, I open my eyes and see that the color has faded to the light you see early in the morning as the sun is on its way to rising. I am on the yellow step frozen, without feeling. I feel like a statue pointing to the east, awaiting the sunbeams to break me from my cold prison.
Suddenly I feel my heart pounding in my chest and my nerves are dancing. My skin prickles as if I had been deprived of blood and I am waking. I realize that as the sun moves into the sky, that time is moving quickly, and if I intend to reach the last step I must move on.
The orange step takes me to the top of a slide, one of those ones that spiral down, and just like the staircase resembles the rainbow, I slide down the same colors I had just taken the journey from. I feel the cold air and my hot breath as I pass the violet section, the wind that stings my cheek and jerks tears from my eyes on the indigo.
The blue section is coupled with the warmth of the sun on by shirtless body and I look around for the man, but I never find him. The green part takes me back into infancy, this time instead of the comfort and simplicity of that life I am frightened as I slide into the unknown. I open my mouth to let out a cry of dissaproval when I am submerged by the liquid gold that fills my lungs as I inhale. Rather than try and cough it out as on would react, I embrace it and I close my eyes as I enter the last portion of this ride.
I cross my arms across my chest and lay back as a vampire would in a coffin. I slide past the red section and onto the floor, that I slip across as you would a sheet of ice. I have reached the last step, a landing. I feel myself come to a stop and I open my eyes. I am alone, everything is black. I pull myself to my feet and I hear something behind me. I turn and see the man standing before me, and as he turns to face me, I wake up.”
I look over at her to see her looking intently at me. Her eyes are focused on my face, and her eyebrows are brought together, almost as if she feels sorry for me. The pen and paper are lying on the floor at her crossed feet and her hands are clasp in her lap.
“His face, what did he look like?” she asks me. Was this the same person I began this session with? Her voice carried an excitment I had never heard sung from her lips before.
“I’ve never seen his face.” I reply on an exhale as I stand. My time was finished and I pick up my parka and cane as I head for the door. I hear her chair groan as she sat back and let out a breath.
“I’ll see you on Monday Mr.Sorell.” she said. I turn to face her as I open the door.
“Please, call me James.”