One Night As You Sleep

As the man fell asleep in his family home, he knew nothing of the world he was entering.

Somewhere hiding in the hollow insides of the living carcass was a small trace of morality. Long ago he had wrapped it in a box and put it aside in an isolated place within his mind. Forgetting all that the box enclosed, the man commenced living his life for the devil. But now, the force within the box grew stronger. As it grew the box unfolded and out stepped the force within: his conscience. His conscience crept forth and as it roamed around its new territory it sang out loud "One night as you sleep in your goose feather bed, we will be kneeling at your bedside". The man’s conscience broke through the bars and out from the man’s sub conscious. It ventured further into the darkness and entered a harsh desolate land to which it had not been in years, the man’s knowing mind.

The conscience had a lot of work to do. As the conscience continued to sing, the man entered a nightmare so vivid and clear he could not tell he was sleeping. "We’ll pray for your soul like the good Lord said, let all be forgiven and none be denied". The man was confused. There were the family who he had tortured, kneeling beside him yet they spoke words of faith? The man scoffed out loud "You’re all mad men", and laughed at their naive willingness to forgive. As if he was worth forgiving.

The family rose to their feet and stepped forward towards the man with confidence and such steadiness it unruffled the man. "Then one night as you sleep in your goose feather bed , we will be standing at your bedside." The family sang louder "Your bones will be broken and your blood will be shed, your eyes will be taken and your hands will be tied".

The man now panicking inside, trembled as his thoughts raced, and his stomach churned so loudly it frightened him. What could he do? He went to raise his fist to prove he was still in control, but his hands had been tied. The man quickly tried to loosen the rope which bound his wrists but there was no rope. For it was the power of the words the family sang which held him tightly just as he had held them before. As he realised his strength would not free him he sat, feeling helpless for the first time in his life. He watched the family and his heart beat faster, as if to accompany their song. "Then we’ll take you to the forest where none will hear you cry, and we’ll cut down the sycamore and broom."

Whose game was he playing? He would not be fooled. Such powerless little pests he had once conquered were too cowardly and good willed to hurt him! So what if they had his hands bound? They would not torture him. After all, he need not speak more than a few words to crush their lives. "Your mad men," he yelled "mad men!". But the words as sharp as knives which had once sliced through their hearts, now would only slice the air through which they travelled. The family had their own knives. "And its there we will forgive you, and it’s there we’ll watch you die, like a dancing silhouette against the moon."

The man’s pupils dilated and he could see the family. Now he realised they were serious. They could hurt him. Fear hit his heart as hard and as fast as a speeding bullet, tearing through his flesh and exploding, releasing all the poison inside him. The fear spread quickly through every cell in his body as his blood turned against him to deliver the poison. He shut his eyes in desperation, hoping the family would have disappeared by the time he opened them again. However, as he opened his eyes he saw the family and realised they were now at the top of the mountain on which his evil abode stood. They continued to sing, "And you will burn, you will burn, we will purify your soul in the fire, in the fire, and your spirit will live forever".

Warmth gently touched his tightly tensed skin and his heart relaxed for a second. The family carried him closer to the raging fire. Now the heat was intense, and it burnt him. The man was panic stricken. His muscles contracted spontaneously with fear and his heart raced so fast it sounded like the continuous beating of a savages drum. His heart hurt, its beating so violent it felt as though the walls would burst, but they did not. He screamed but his voice was drowned by the crackling of the fire as the family threw him in. The fire welcomed him. The flames enveloped his body and rose in fury. He was gone. The man was dead. "Praise the Lord and other soul is saved, praise the Lord, praise the Lord."

The mans conscience stopped singing and collapsed exhausted. The man awoke. His conscience was suddenly being pushed towards the box from which it had escaped. His conscience fought with its remaining strength, and fell into a crevasse of his mind. It laughed. If the man had not changed, it did not matter. For although his conscience was stuck in a crevasse, it was in the mans knowing mind.

MAIL ME!!!