As I began to dose off I know that once agian I was to be visited in my dreams. It became a nightly routine since the murder. The soul of the young victim huanting my dreams. She would call me to her suductivly whispering my name. She would be sitting on her bed dressed in a ribbon of torn silk. as I approach her she begins to sing an accient italian song like a beautiful siren capturing me in her song.When I finally reach her the knife appears in my hand. I begin to strike her but she continues to sing. Her voice rising louder and louder the words urging me to strike her more and more over and over the blade peircing her caramel skin Blood arise from the surface. The pure white silk now soaking red and finally the song stops and she rises. She lays me down on the bed and agian begans to whisper her song. And just before her lips touch mine I awake urgently. My heart racing. palms sweating. It was just a nightmare but what a beautiful nightmare it was.
a beautiful nightmare
July 6, 2010