Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Waking Up Screaming!

 If you like horror movies and you are a smoker who wants to quit smoking, then the pill I am on may be just the thing for you. You see, one of the side effects of taking Champix is vivid nightmares. Not the kind of nightmares where you wake up the next morning thinking “Oh dear, that dream was a tad weird”. No, it is the kind of nightmares where your body is covered with goosebumps, you’re out of breath and your voice is horse from screaming! It is messed up. It is frightening. And it is consistent. Yes, on Champix, every night is horror movie night, and every night you are the star of your very own fright night.
Since I was a child spirits have been around me. Growing up with two grandmothers who were psychic, to various degrees, the concept of spirits and the afterlife have always been part of my reality. I have never feared the dead and up until this night I never had a reason to either. It was a normal evening, by any account. The house was quiet and us, the living occupants, ominously serene and docile. Outside the howling wind was gently swaying trees into a curiously choreographed ballet with the gentle rumbling of thunder announcing the imminence of a summer evening storm.

For no specific reason or purpose hubby suggest I make contact with the afterlife. His suggestion seemed perfectly normal and I felt compelled to comply. In a trance like state I placed my right hand on the table and started moving it around in a circle. With each completed rotation hubby and all things familiar around the table started to disappear like mist being evaporated by the sun. The lighting dimmed and as hubby disappeared the house went silent, I closed my eyes and alone I waited. Then it happened.

In mid rotation my hand was crabbed, pushed down on the table and rather ungraciously dragged across it. In shock I opened my eyes and with shallow fast breaths I could see the distinct impression of five finger marks pressing on my skin as the grip on my hand tightened. Frightened, I tried to pull my hand free from its supernatural grip. My action agitated whatever it was that held on to my hand, it tightened its grip and I could sense it was not going to let me go. I let out a ghastly scream, I was terrified! Seconds felt like hours and all I could hear was the sound of my heart racing in my ears. Minutes passes and just as I thought it was over, it got worse.
One hand grabbing me became two, two became four, four became six. They were pulling on my hand, then grabbing my wrist and then my arm. I could not jerk free. I had no more breath left to scream. I was being pulled across the table, they were hurting me. Then abruptly, everything went black and quiet. The pressure of the hands on my arm was released. I was lying on a cold cement floor; I could hear water dripping, hear whispers and the air was permeated with the smell of death. Slowly I pulled myself off the floor and as I was standing up there they were.

A group of emaciated gay young men, with sunken eyes and nothing but skeletons covered in skin they stared at me. Their eyes filled with fear, desperation and anger. Simultaneously, and as if with one voice they demanded “You must help us... YOU MUST HELP US!” Then they let out a deafening scream the sound of which pushed me onto my knees causing me to cover my ears in pain. As I looked down I could see blood dripping on the floor. It was my blood.

Blood was streaming from my eyes, nose and ears. Still disorientated and feeling weak I felt a pressure under my arms as they pulled me off the floor. They placed their hands on my head and said “We will show you. You will see”. I opened my eyes and there I was in Nazi Germany, naked and in a concentration camp facility. I was freezing cold and in front of me stood a couple of imposing officers and around me a bunch of scared yet defiant young men. “You are going to kill us now” a voice next to me said “You have tortured us, now you’re going to kill us”.
The officers looked at us, careful to avoid eye contact. Like sheep we were ushered down narrow corridors into a facility underground. We reached an empty room and were instructed to go inside. We all knew this was where we were going to die. We were going to be gassed. “Just tell us where the gas is going to come out!” one screamed as the heavy metal door closed. “JUST TELL US!!!” The door slammed shut and as the sound of the guards securing the bolts and locks faded, all eyes turned to the roof of the room. Minutes passed and the room was filled with deathly silence. Then it came.

The silence broke when, without warning, strange looking pellets fell down the air vents at the side of the room. Those standing closest to the vents were affected first. There was allot of screaming, harrowing screams as people panicked as they watched those around them die. Seconds passed before it reached me. My eyes started to water as my nose, mouth and throat started to burn.

I could taste blood in my mouth as the burning sensation spread down my throat to my lungs. “I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!” I recalled thinking. As I weakened, I started to sink to the floor, in a futile attempt to fight to stay alive I grabbed on to man standing next to me. He was foaming blood at the mouth, his ears bleeding, his skin an oddly looking pink color and as he turned to me he said “No one can save us now”. Then everything turned black.
Do you see now” a voice whispered softly into my ear and I could feel the warmth of a breath as I heard those words. Then “DO YOU SEE NOW!!!” it screamed. And with that I woke up, terrified, traumatized. Hubby asked me later that morning whether I had a nightmare. I did recall that I did, but at that stage I could not for the life of me recall what it was about. Hubby said that I woke him up with my moans and that my whole body was covered in goosebumps and sweat. It wasn’t until the nightmare repeated itself two days later that I remembered being gassed by the Nazis. I have 17 nights worth of nightmares still to go, who will kill me next, only Champix will know?

Till next time.

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