In Forgetting The Future

These Days

These days my dreams tortured me. They wouldn't let me sleep, so I paced. I got no respite from twisted visions of horrible futures, so I took walks at night.

Foolish, perhaps, but I was desperate. Insanely desperate enough to try to drive the thoughts out, or exhaust them, whichever came first.

So I walked. Incessantly, constantly, obsessively.

Days I spent in prayer, walking the Waters Edge. Nights I wandered the streets, anything to shake off the nagging doubt and impending doom.

But still the visions gave me no rest.

These days were lonely, my only friends the passing deer and stalking ravens.

I'd had visions before, of possible timelines, possible paths to take, but all were fluid. Every one changeable, but by choice. These were different somehow. Not darker, just....more.

These ones disturbed me like no others had.

So, I went to the Wise Woman, holding court among her candles and crystals, seeking answers.

But she had none, no answers and certainly no solace to be found. Nothing but more questions and confusion.

Then I met a hermit and sought answers from him, knowing this traveling wanderer to be wise and wondrous beyond even my understanding.

He could tell me nothing.

In desperation I asked a child, my innocent niece, hoping she could tell me even just the meaning of red skies and howling wolves from my dreams.

She only laughed like I was being silly, the most profound answer I'd received. But I was still no closer to understanding the visions, what they meant, or how to make them stop.

I was still no closer to getting real answers.

I stayed home after that, only leaving to continue my lonely walks, but never at night.

The newest of the dreams had been too real, too much, and it scared me anew, so that I was left shaking and sick.

I had died in this one, and it was at night, on one of my walks.

I made sure to ask the deer the next time I passed their favorite grazing spot on the hill, and the ravens as they hopped after me.

The deer had nothing to say beyond one swift look, but the ravens wouldn't shut up.

Not that I could make sense of their ramblings, other then to go ask the owls residing in the park.

And then, last week, the last vision came upon me. Not at night, but during my walk in the park. It left me sweating, shaking and nauseous, so dizzy I could barely see to get home.

I haven't left the house since, not even to visit the owls. I've been too scared to, wishing for nothing more then to be able to forget all I've seen.

All I can do now is sit here, quill and parchment in hand, and write.

I hope somebody finds me soon. I hope someone can help, 'cause I'm all out of ideas now.

And peanuts. I'm eating the last of those as I write this.