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The Rose of Dread Mother

19 Apr, 2018

The Rose of Dread Mother

Reading Time: 4 minutes

I was 12 years old when I met my mother.

We just moved into a new neighborhood. Autumn leaves began to dribble as my dad started to unpack our things. My brother, who was 4 at the time, was playing with his “Imaginary Friend” who he supposedly just met when we moved in. My brother invited me to play with her, telling me that his “Friend” wanted to introduce himself. Thinking it was absurd of him to have an imaginary friend I objected his offer. “Fine, I’ll tell her to meet you herself,” said my brother. My brother had always avoided talking to other girls since our mother passed away, so I thought it was natural for him to have a sort of “Motherly figure” or perhaps even a friend.

Later that night, however, the first encounter had happened. I was sitting in a boat in the middle of a rather foggy lake. I could still feel the wind touching my ears, is this real? might this be a dream? So I took a glimpse of my surroundings. I saw a small wooden cabin with its door opened and I also noticed that the lake was surrounded by trees, making me unable to see what’s beyond it. But that’s when I saw it, a beautiful doll-like figure wearing a humongous white gown, like the ones you see in fancy British parties. She had a red crimson hair as if she dyed herself with blood. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, it’s as if she would slaughter me if I blinked for just a moment. Before I knew it, her bright black eyes were staring back at me, giving me a chill down my spine. She opened up a humongous horrifying smile, impossible for a normal person. Her mouth was pitch black that I couldn’t even see her teeth’s. Her glare was so full of bloodlust; I could feel it just by looking at her. She chuckled, laughed for a bit, then let out a dark psychotic laugh. She let her gown open and revealed my brother’s mutilated head as well as many others just swinging as if it was attached to a string. “Now it’s your turn, Danny”. My sanity was being tested, I was about to go mad. An hour in this place and I would’ve gone on a psychotic tantrum, but I didn’t. I just stood there, somehow feeling very calm about the situation, thinking that it’s all just a dream.

Then the sound of my alarm rung across the room. I was sweating all over my body, catching only glimpses of what had happened last night. Fear, insanity, distraught, and sadness I experienced in a glimpse. Never in my early days have I felt something so dread and so full of hate. I could only imagine what dreams I had last night. So I went downstairs for breakfast and began forgetting the matter. “Did you meet her?” said my brother. I had forgotten what had happened last night so I chuckled for a moment and said: “Met who?”. “The pretty lady in the gown silly, I told you she’d meet you,” said my brother. Expressionless, I began to remember what had happened last night. Then I screamed at the top of my lungs as if it happened right before me. How could he possibly have known about the dream? I over-panicked the situation and asthma began to take over, I didn’t have my inhaler back then. Unable to breathe, I saw a blurry vision of what seemed to be the woman suffocating me while staring at me with her eyes wide open. Then next thing I know I was in the hospital bed.
“Danny are you alright? It’s okay you’re in safe hands now, daddy’s going to go to work now to be on your best behavior” said my dad in a comforting manner. I was speechless, I left a blank expression as my father left the room. Before I knew it, I was alone in a dark room. Wait no, it didn’t feel right. Something is inside the room beside me. Something dark with malicious intents. Then I began to notice the various corners of the room were exceptionally dark, except one of them stood out. It was pure black, blacker than that of the blackest sky. The more I stare at it the brighter the other corners seemed. Then she appeared right above me, her crimson red hair was swinging as I began to lose my sanity, all the while fondling with my hair as if I was hers to own. I didn’t want to even look at her face even if it meant my death. Then she just stopped, the room didn’t seem so dark anymore. It’s as if she lost interest in me. I checked my surroundings over and over and over again until I realized that she wasn’t here anymore. Then I began crying hysterically until I was tired enough to sleep.

I was in the lake again; this time it was still. The place was so silent that I can hear my own heartbeat. The fog began to thicken; I knew that it wasn’t over yet. She wanted me, she wanted my head and nothing’s going to stop it. Before I knew it she was right in front of me. She gave a blank expression as if she was waiting for a response. I felt like if I gave the wrong answer she would kill me on the spot. However, I knew I was going to die either way but I didn’t care. I looked at her, smiled at her, then said: “Insanity must be a pretty thing to have”. She smiled back at me, but this time it wasn’t a horrifying, psychotic smile but a rather warm but gentle smile. “Aye, it sure is,” she said. Gently she inserted a bright red rose as beautiful as her into my palms. “I bid you farewell, may this be a reminder to you that for whatever reason you choose to come here again, I will welcome you as one of my children and I will protect you even at the cost of my life,” she said.

I woke up the next day as if the whole situation had never happened. I also noticed that the rose was still in my palms. I looked at the window and smiled at the view. “Insanity is a precious thing, right mother?”

CREDIT : Arale R. Subrata

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The Chair

16 Apr, 2018

The Chair

Reading Time: 7 minutes

I was never at all superstitious. from what I can remember I always looked at life from a practical sense. I was always in the present, I liked my practicality and realism, it was my favorite part of myself.

I had a passion for interior design and home furnishings, I liked to think of myself as an artist. When I was not at work I would often browse the internet, I had my own blog. I posted photos of my home and interior design, and some of the artwork and interior designs my friends made, we would often collaborate on home projects, we were obsessed with it.

One day I went to my local IKEA, to get some inspiration for a home project. I often went to IKEA to browse, I enjoyed getting lost in the endless hallways and rooms, each with a different setup to stimulate my imagination. I often imagined what a furniture piece would look like in my home, although I didn’t have much money, and it would be cheaper just to make one. I came across something very odd during my last visit to IKEA. It was nothing much to look at, it was a vintage high back chair with a wooden frame and dull white cushions on the seat and the back. This was odd because IKEA didn’t sell chairs like this, as for me I had a more modern taste, I never made or bought anything like this. I was curious and decided to get a closer look, It had a label, but it was not specific in the least, it red “The Chair”. No logo, no brand, no price, nothing but “The Chair”.

It did not look like it was very comfortable, but I was intrigued and decided to sit anyway. it was the most comfortable chair I had ever sat on in my life. I felt myself slowly mold into the chair, despite this being unusual, since it was only a small wooden chair with sown on cushions. I could feel my body growing more and more tired, I didn’t want to fall asleep in the middle of a store, so I tried to get up, My body wouldn’t let me. My eyelids were beginning to close, I forced them open, but it was useless. I called for some assistance, but no one answered. In fact no one seemed to notice me at all. I made another attempt to will my tired body out of the chair, my arms began to shake as I pushed on the arm rests on the chair, I managed the strength to lift my body a few inches off the chair, but my fatigue got the best of me, and I slammed down on the chair, panting.

I tried everything possible to keep myself awake, but my eyes began to close without me even noticing, I caught myself just in time, my eyes closed for only a millisecond, but when I opened my eye again I saw that the only people left were security guards and janitors, they still payed no attention to me. I turned to gaze out the window, I saw the moon and the empty parking lot, it was night time, the store was closed.

I tried again to get myself out of the chair, I could not move. I screamed at the top of my lungs, which at this point was just a quiet cry. The janitor that was moping the floor right next to me should have been able to hear me, but he remained unaware of my existence. the louder I screamed, the more tired I became. And I could feel my eyes closing again, there was nothing I could do.

This time it felt like more time passed than a millisecond, maybe a minute or two, but when I awoke there was no one. I looked around, all the furniture items had vanished apart from the chair I was sitting on, it was just a big empty warehouse. I looked out the window, the moon, the sky and the parking lot had gone, my view was pitch black, it looked as if the windows were blacked out. At this point I couldn’t scream, I could barely move my mouth. I noticed a tingling in my lower back, I couldn’t do anything but sit there in utter discomfort. I didn’t want to close my eyes again.

The discomfort only got worse, the tingling was felt under my arms, and all through my back, my shirt felt as if it were attaching itself to my skin. My eyes would not close now, the discomfort drew on, and on, and on. Until finally I drifted to sleep once again.

I awoke to find that all the lights had gone out, I felt like I was being watched, I could no longer turn my head. A shiver ran down my spine, and throughout my entire body. My mind ran rampant, I could not rationalize this, utter terror was the only thing running through my head. I heard small scampering movements, I saw in the darkness what looked like a man, standing there and staring at me, What was going on?

The last time I fell asleep, I was not even aware I had drifted out of consciousness, but when I woke up I found IKEA’s structure crumbling, the walls and floor had faded to a dirt yellow, there were various cracks and holes in the building, and out the window was the sun, blaring at what seemed like triple what it normally emitted, there were no items on display, but there were a few shopping carts, that were knocked over and gathering dust.

I sat there in the chair for what seemed like weeks, there was no pain, but I knew I was being tortured, there is all kinds of torment after all. I could not move, I could not turn my head, I was completely paralyzed, The only thing I could feel were the shivers, and increasing pressure. I wanted to fall asleep, but I could not, I wanted to get out of the chair, but I could not.

I sat there, my mind was racing but my body lay completely motionless, the utter lack of motion was torture enough, and by the second it just got more uncomfortable and more stiff. Eventually, after what felt like months, I managed to make a slight head turn, it turned into shaking. I could feel my body getting heavier, and I felt the wooden legs of the chair shaking, they began to crack, and after about 3 hours of uncontrollable shaking, the the chair broke.

My eyes closed for an instant, and when I opened I found that I was back in the store at the very instance I has sat on the chair. Everyone was staring at me. The chair lay there, its 4 legs snapped off and the back was cracked. I could move again. And I could see an irritated young employee approaching me.

“Excuse me sir, Your going to have to pay for that.” He told me

“Y-Yes, of course” I stammered. I looked at the tag again, this time it had red “LATE 19TH CENTURY FRENCH ART NOUVEAU LILY WHITE ARMCHAIR, $2 250.00”

I went to the counter and payed with my credit card, I asked him if he could throw the chair out for me, I told him that since it was broken I had no use for it, He agreed.

I raced out of that store, and I did not look back.

I abandoned my car, I walked, I did not want to sit down at all. I tried my best to make sense of that I had just been through, It was too vivid for a dream, yet once I broke the chair it was like nothing had happened. I found myself shaking still, and decided to stop for some chamomile tea for my nerves. I wanted to call my friends and tell them everything I had been through, but I knew they wouldn’t believe me. I knew of sleep paralysis, I researched the symptoms, they matched what I felt during my time in the chair. But there was nothing on the internet to explain the eyes, nor the changes in landscape between sleeps.

I had my car towed, I lived relatively far away, it was a long walk home. I was beginning to tire out. By the time I reached my neighborhood it was dark out. I wanted to believe that it wasn’t true. I wanted to rationalize, but that was no longer possible. I came across my friend Simon’s house, and decided to go in for a visit.

Simon let me stay at his place for the night, I just told him that my car slid into a ditch, and had to be towed, and that I was too tired to walk any further, Simon advised me to sit down, but I had refused. Simon said he had to run to the store, to buy some wood for a project. I did not want to be left alone, but I told myself it would be fine. I did not sit down at all. I pulled out my computer and decided to check my blog, I did not know what I was expecting, but I always liked to check.

I saw a post I had never made before, it was a photo of the chair, you know which one I mean. There was a caption: This antique French armchair is so cozy you won’t ever want to get up! You will be so comfortable, you’ll lose track of time!.

I froze up. Closed the lid of my laptop, and decided to go to bed, I was I went upstairs to the guest room. I was still quite paranoid, and afraid to rest, but I was growing more tired by the second, and maybe some rest would do me some good. The guest room didn’t have a bed, all it had was a vintage high back chair with a wooden frame and dull white cushions on the seat and the back. I was too tired to resist.

That is where I am now, It has been 3 days, though time is hard to tell. Simon probably thought I had left and returned to my house, as he came into my new room many times now and hasn’t noticed me once. I know I will fall asleep soon, I can feel myself growing more and more tired every time I press a key, but I had to get my message across. You never know what can happen in life, you never know what to trust, if you take a seat, you may never get back up.

CREDIT : Collicun Redeia

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