Amy M. Schaefer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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The Hunted

2/25/2015

2 Comments

 
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"They promised that dreams can come true-but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams too." ~Oscar Wilde

I bolted awake, a scream lodged in my throat as I searched wildly in the dark room. My eyes caught the clock glowing, daybreak was close. I sat up, doing another, slower sweep of the room, letting my mind anchor to familiar, comfortable things. My heart was still pounding as I repeated in my head over and over, "You're safe. You're safe. Just a dream." Panting as if I'd been running a long, long time, I forced myself to breathe slower, steady. "You're safe, you're safe."  I snuggled back into the covers, surrounding myself with pillows and taking one to hold tightly in my arms, my hands clenched in the pillowcase fabric. I knew the dream wouldn't return, but it still took me a very long time to close my eyes again and slip back into the black state of sleep.

Since I was a child, my nightmares have always had a common theme at their core...I am being hunted and I know two things with utmost certainty: 1.) If I can keep my wits about me, not be caught off guard, I will fight whatever is hunting me like a feral wild thing; 2.) If I am caught unaware, if whatever "it" is finds me vulnerable, it will rip me to shreds, usually in graphic, bloody brutality. I still carry old images of some of those outcomes in my mind. Always after a nightmare, when I wake from the battle, those images and feelings of terror stay with me for hours, sometimes days...and some never go completely away, stuck in corners of my mind like haunting shadows. This is why I don't watch horror flicks or movies with a lot of violence. It's not that I'm afraid of whatever I'll see on screen...but because I am terrified of the much worse things my own mind will come up with to torment me later.

The sun is now shining brightly off the pretty snow that fell yesterday. I'm awake and safe, and yet my hands are shaking as I put pen to paper and write this. The urge to curl up in the corner of a room in my house and cry is strong, but instead I make the bed in my decadent, luxurious sanctuary that I've created to help arm me for combat with the dark things. I check under the bed just to be sure no monsters are lurking there before going down to make breakfast. By the time I finished my "eggs in a frame" (...that's what my mama always called what I made this morning), I could feel the teeth of my nightmare releasing my flesh and backing away. Now, however, I'm left with the feeling of being wounded. I suppose after this I'll go up and find my first aid kit, see what I can do about these abrasions!
2 Comments
Margaret
2/25/2015 08:16:38 am

I can totally relate to this one. I haven't had it in a little while, but I've had the same recurring nightmare as far back as I can remember. So much that I "know" most of it. I have others too...but always that one...And hunted also. (HUGS) ya tight and cases away your demons...

Reply
Amy Marie Schaefer
2/26/2015 12:49:02 am

(sends you BIG hugs back) I feel really silly allowing dreams to rattle me so much, but they do. And it doesn't matter how many times I tell myself it's not real, they often feel too real and stick around long after I've woken up. My Aunt Mattie had dreams like this, too, and would frequently talk in her sleep. She also woke up screaming sometimes. I have often wondered if they were hereditary (she said her mother was the same), or simply psychological. Anyway, thank you for replying. It helps to know that it's not just me.

Love,
A.

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    About The Author

    I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery