Dreamt on the night of October 19, 2014
If you've been a train commuter at some point in your life, for sure trains will end up in your dreams too. And if you like watching horror movies with brides who had a gruesome death and return to haunt the places they were killed, I'm sure they'll be featured in your subconscious cinema reel too. But then, elements that's mostly just you will get to intertwine with that and the scary part is you don't have any control at what will be thrown at you. All you do is hope for the best and arm yourself for whatever is coming.
I was going to ride the train. A train in my dream is nothing but a reflection of how I perceive actual trains I ride to and from work. I find it entertaining that my dream trains can go above-, under- and overground. I also find it amusing how the tracks criss-cross among themselves and how trains almost collide but never do.
Anyway, I was waiting in an unknown station for an unknown train to lead me to an unknown place that I was sure I had to go to. The train ride was fast with me telling my family how it went when I got to that wherever it is I had to go.
It was a provincial place, an ancestral home I think and I don't really know the reason for the gathering. But there we were. Maybe because All Souls Day is nearing, that's why I dreamt of this.
And this ancient mostly wooden house came with a mystery.
We ate dinner while listening to the story. As descendants of the guy in the story, we were interested why our grandfather had left his home in the first place.
Once upon a time, a girl thought she was going to get married to the man of the house who she said was in love with her. Unfortunately, she was a bit insane and imagined it. She was the one who had a fixation on the guy. So one day, dressed up as a bride she walked up to the house and demanded that she was ready for their wedding ceremony. The guy and his family calmly told her that she was sick and no one here was going to marry her.
Then she disappeared.
Later that night, they would hear a woman crying by the camachile tree next to their house. But no matter how much they search, they could not find the source of the cries. Night after night, it was like this eventually driving the guy (whose room was next to the camachile tree) away. He said he couldn't sleep with the crying and that he was leaving the house.
He went to the city and started over, getting married and raising a family. He died happy and content leaving the mystery behind.
After his departure the crying had ceased. The morning after their first good sleep, the family discovered a white veil at the bottom of the tree, covered with the red camachile beans almost as if they were red tears that the tree had cried.
After dinner, we went out by the porch and watched as the night swallowed the world in darkness. One of our uncles (our dad's cousin) pointed out the place where the camachile tree used to be. They had cut it after it stopped producing fruits, they said. Especially, since they needed wood for the repairs of the house after one the strongest storms hit their province.
We headed upstairs to the bedrooms and continued being introduced to neighbors and other relatives. A set of brothers particularly caught my attention for one one of them have been staring at me intently.
The next day we pretty much knew everyone and the set of brothers turned out to be our closest neighbors. They were a silly bunch for all except one, that guy who had been staring at me the night before. We all decided this was our time to enjoy life away from the modern world so most of that day was spent playing outside on the vast territory of my relatives or as they corrected OUR territory. They still welcomed us as family no matter how distant.
The brother I had mentioned sat beside me that afternoon after avoiding most of the day. "How was your sleep, niña?" he asked.
"It was fine," I said frowning a little at the strange question.
He smiled a small smile. "I'm glad to hear that," he said as he took a sip of coffee, it was the naturally brewed kind, strong and aromatic. I still had no idea how the brewery worked but it didn't matter at the moment. I was curious why he asked me that.
"Why do you ask?" I asked looking at him in the eye.
I seem to have taken him by surprise for his eyes widened. But then a smile I had not been expecting broke out of his brown face. "No reason."
My frowned deepened. "There is a reason," I said before looking away. "You just won't tell me."
"Death is involved," he said softly, in a tone I almost didn't hear. And just like that he stood up and left me.
Bewildered and no longer in the mood for relaxing, I went back inside the house and went straight to my room. Or at least I would've if it wasn't for the fact that the door to my room was slightly open when I was sure I had locked it.
"Hello?" I cried. "Is anyone there?" I cautiously walked up to the door and opened it a bit more. A flash of white passed in front of me leaving me with a gasp. I immediately threw the door open and saw that my window had a new white blind that was being blown by the wind outside. I let out a breath.
I turned at the sound of shuffling feet. "Oh you're back so soon?" said one of my titas, her plump frame making her look welcoming and warm. She was carrying an abaca woven box (a tampipi), pieces of cloth were sticking out from under the lid. "I was just tidying up your room," she said with a smile.
"Thank you, tita," I said. "You didn't have to."
"Oh nonsense. You and you're family are our guests." I smiled and nodded, not wishing to injure her feelings. And with that she bustled out of the room.
I looked around the room once more. There were old chests and boxes along the sides. I wondered who the room belonged to before we got here.
You know that there are dreams within a dream? Well, in this dream I started to dream as well. I dreamt of a tortured soul roaming the land searching for something she can never have. I dreamt that this soul felt robbed of love and that revenge filled her heart and turned her into a monster. I dreamt she was dressed as a bride killing herself behind the camachile tree with a promise to return.
I jerked awake, beads of perspiration framing my face. And HER. She was there. She was looking at me with bloodshot eyes and skin so pale. Then she smiled showing off her dirt stained teeth. She reached out with her dirty hands, mud under her nails, and aimed at my throat. I tried to scream but she was faster and choked the air out of my plea for help.
Then I really woke up. Yup, it was a dream within a dream within a dream. And I couldn't stop shaking. What really scared me, was not the fact I was strangled by a missing person... but that the missing person looked exactly like me!
And to make it worse, someone seemed to have left the window open for I felt a breeze blowing. My eyes grew wide when I turned to shut it. Right outside my window was a great camachile tree. It seemed like the cliche horror story any writer might have thought of, but honestly, I was dreaming. Who cared if your dreams were following a well-known script? The fact you were IN a well-known horror story plot would be a cause of worry, cliche or no.
If you've been a train commuter at some point in your life, for sure trains will end up in your dreams too. And if you like watching horror movies with brides who had a gruesome death and return to haunt the places they were killed, I'm sure they'll be featured in your subconscious cinema reel too. But then, elements that's mostly just you will get to intertwine with that and the scary part is you don't have any control at what will be thrown at you. All you do is hope for the best and arm yourself for whatever is coming.
I was going to ride the train. A train in my dream is nothing but a reflection of how I perceive actual trains I ride to and from work. I find it entertaining that my dream trains can go above-, under- and overground. I also find it amusing how the tracks criss-cross among themselves and how trains almost collide but never do.
Anyway, I was waiting in an unknown station for an unknown train to lead me to an unknown place that I was sure I had to go to. The train ride was fast with me telling my family how it went when I got to that wherever it is I had to go.
It was a provincial place, an ancestral home I think and I don't really know the reason for the gathering. But there we were. Maybe because All Souls Day is nearing, that's why I dreamt of this.
And this ancient mostly wooden house came with a mystery.
We ate dinner while listening to the story. As descendants of the guy in the story, we were interested why our grandfather had left his home in the first place.
Then she disappeared.
Later that night, they would hear a woman crying by the camachile tree next to their house. But no matter how much they search, they could not find the source of the cries. Night after night, it was like this eventually driving the guy (whose room was next to the camachile tree) away. He said he couldn't sleep with the crying and that he was leaving the house.
He went to the city and started over, getting married and raising a family. He died happy and content leaving the mystery behind.
After his departure the crying had ceased. The morning after their first good sleep, the family discovered a white veil at the bottom of the tree, covered with the red camachile beans almost as if they were red tears that the tree had cried.
After dinner, we went out by the porch and watched as the night swallowed the world in darkness. One of our uncles (our dad's cousin) pointed out the place where the camachile tree used to be. They had cut it after it stopped producing fruits, they said. Especially, since they needed wood for the repairs of the house after one the strongest storms hit their province.
We headed upstairs to the bedrooms and continued being introduced to neighbors and other relatives. A set of brothers particularly caught my attention for one one of them have been staring at me intently.
The next day we pretty much knew everyone and the set of brothers turned out to be our closest neighbors. They were a silly bunch for all except one, that guy who had been staring at me the night before. We all decided this was our time to enjoy life away from the modern world so most of that day was spent playing outside on the vast territory of my relatives or as they corrected OUR territory. They still welcomed us as family no matter how distant.
The brother I had mentioned sat beside me that afternoon after avoiding most of the day. "How was your sleep, niña?" he asked.
"It was fine," I said frowning a little at the strange question.
He smiled a small smile. "I'm glad to hear that," he said as he took a sip of coffee, it was the naturally brewed kind, strong and aromatic. I still had no idea how the brewery worked but it didn't matter at the moment. I was curious why he asked me that.
"Why do you ask?" I asked looking at him in the eye.
I seem to have taken him by surprise for his eyes widened. But then a smile I had not been expecting broke out of his brown face. "No reason."
My frowned deepened. "There is a reason," I said before looking away. "You just won't tell me."
"Death is involved," he said softly, in a tone I almost didn't hear. And just like that he stood up and left me.
Bewildered and no longer in the mood for relaxing, I went back inside the house and went straight to my room. Or at least I would've if it wasn't for the fact that the door to my room was slightly open when I was sure I had locked it.
"Hello?" I cried. "Is anyone there?" I cautiously walked up to the door and opened it a bit more. A flash of white passed in front of me leaving me with a gasp. I immediately threw the door open and saw that my window had a new white blind that was being blown by the wind outside. I let out a breath.
I turned at the sound of shuffling feet. "Oh you're back so soon?" said one of my titas, her plump frame making her look welcoming and warm. She was carrying an abaca woven box (a tampipi), pieces of cloth were sticking out from under the lid. "I was just tidying up your room," she said with a smile.
"Thank you, tita," I said. "You didn't have to."
"Oh nonsense. You and you're family are our guests." I smiled and nodded, not wishing to injure her feelings. And with that she bustled out of the room.
I looked around the room once more. There were old chests and boxes along the sides. I wondered who the room belonged to before we got here.
You know that there are dreams within a dream? Well, in this dream I started to dream as well. I dreamt of a tortured soul roaming the land searching for something she can never have. I dreamt that this soul felt robbed of love and that revenge filled her heart and turned her into a monster. I dreamt she was dressed as a bride killing herself behind the camachile tree with a promise to return.
I jerked awake, beads of perspiration framing my face. And HER. She was there. She was looking at me with bloodshot eyes and skin so pale. Then she smiled showing off her dirt stained teeth. She reached out with her dirty hands, mud under her nails, and aimed at my throat. I tried to scream but she was faster and choked the air out of my plea for help.
Then I really woke up. Yup, it was a dream within a dream within a dream. And I couldn't stop shaking. What really scared me, was not the fact I was strangled by a missing person... but that the missing person looked exactly like me!
And to make it worse, someone seemed to have left the window open for I felt a breeze blowing. My eyes grew wide when I turned to shut it. Right outside my window was a great camachile tree. It seemed like the cliche horror story any writer might have thought of, but honestly, I was dreaming. Who cared if your dreams were following a well-known script? The fact you were IN a well-known horror story plot would be a cause of worry, cliche or no.
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