Recurring Nightmare

Run, run, you need to keep running.

I’m running down a dark corridor in the middle of the night.
My white silky nightgown flutters around my ankles,
And my dark wavy hair whips around behind me,
As I run for my life.

She’s chasing me,
I know it.
The old woman, with her hair pulled into a severe bun,
And her perfectly pressed old-fashioned maid’s uniform.

It was so long ago, before there was electricity in homes,
So she carries a candle in a brass holder,
As she races after me;
Her face is dark with rage and determination.

I keep looking over my shoulder in terror,
And as she gains on me I trip over the hem of my nightgown.
I scurry backward on the floor as the old woman stands over me,
With a cat-that-got-the-canary look upon her face.

I throw my hands over my head to shield myself,
Only for it to be too late,
As the old woman strikes me hard over the head with the brass candle holder.
My skull makes a sickening crunch as the blow hits its target.

It’s all over now,
I could not save myself,
And now the old woman forces her son, the one I’ve betrayed,
To bury me behind the mansion on the hill, so close, yet so far away from the one I love.

As always I wake up with a start,
My heart pounding in my ears,
As I try to tell myself it was all just a horrible nightmare,
The same one I’ve been having since I was a child.