Nightmare

I walk a desolate twisted dirt road
Trees bending closer
Gnarled fingers reaching to block out the sky

Ahead fog hangs over the swamp
Muddy water surrounds dead trees
Stumps, rotting decay

Mist hovers over the stark white stones
Sinking and cockeyed into the muck
Their faces chipped, dirty and covered with moss

Here Lies our Dearly Departed

I run, feet pounding against soggy earth
Until a large dark shape emerges before me

A rotting house, sunk into the bog
Instinctively I know, this is my house

Inside I try to lock the door
Fingers clawing at the latch, yet never gaining purchase

Outside men approach, torches lit
I panic, scrambling with the rusty clasp

Using my last ounce of strength, it slides reluctantly into place
I wander through smoky rooms with walls inhaling

Dark rooms, cramped and crowded
Shadows creeping through hallways dim with candlelight

I climb rickety stairs, narrow and steep
Higher and higher until I reach a room, stuffy and small

A cold presence, a spirit, an essence of evil creeps
Across warped floor boards

In the corner a shadowy bed
I am so tired, But I cannot sleep here

I climb again, to the roof
Above me is a little room, suspended
On four spindly stilts

I climb the ladder and lie down on the bed
Gauzy curtains billow into the room
A freezing misty air blows over me

The windows are open, I cannot shut them
For they have no glass

Suddenly the wind gusts, screaming
The room on stilts sways
Back and forth, left and right

Wood splintering

It shakes, shivers, breaks under me and then
I am falling with the room

And as I fall I know I’m going to
Hit and die

Finally, terror, crash
Jarring,
Silence

Eerie misty silence