The Man In The Showers

Date: 5/29/2018

There was a man in a lot of overlapping showers. He was wearing a suit and was absolutely livid. I was my own husband. As my husband I yelled at the man. My wife, otherwise known as me was dead. The Man in the showers killed her/me. All because she/I had killed his imaginary wife. Then I was me, and I was not dead yet. It was the past yet the last conversation had just taken place. I ran. I left his overlapping shower mansion and kept down stairs into my strange basement. I have dreamt of this basement before. It’s almost like my basement, yet it is creepier. I have had other dreams there. Dreams of dolls and friends and swings and a never ending workshop and t-shirts and fear. This time I run down the stairs (which look like the stairs at my old church) and arrive in that basement. I run to the guest room farthest by the stairs. They are chasing me. His henchmen. The Man’s henchmen. Two men wearing suits. I can see them in a third person view, running down the stairs as I run into the bedroom. I’m trapped. But not really. I climb out the window and suddenly I’m on the upper deck of my lawn, outside the master bedroom. I leap the fence into my neighbor’s yard. I keep running. My teleportation has bought me time. I have now left my neighbor’s lawn and am running down a forested hill to the water. The men are far far behind but have sicked a dog on me. The dog is catching up. I stumble towards the water and wish that I had let the man shoot me and kill me painlessly like how they did to my husband. But I know what I will do. At the last moment I turn to the dog and calm it with one motion. It is now friendly and I can escape. I am now back in my basement, but it is my real basement. I’m in my real workshop and I hide in the nook by the heater. I close the wall behind me and crouch in the dark dusty space that seems like it was built to induce claustrophobia. I know two girls are coming. Again I am seeing third person where walls don’t matter. They are teens, older than me, bleached hair, with knives. They open the wall and one tries to stab me. It is clear they work for the Man. I grab the knife by the blade and pull it from the girl. She is powerless. I am now in a hallway which is very sterile, and reminds me of a cross between a hospital, a hotel, and a church youth room hallway. I walk towards the door that leads to the man. He is still in the mess of overlapping showers. I step into the area not enclosed by pale teal glass doors that half trap him half protect him. He cannot hurt me. I have passed. I am unstoppable. He should submit or stab me now. Time is relative. I know how to move through this world in ways he will never know.