He's An Angel Now.
2004-02-13 - 6:56 a.m.


Feeling: Sad.
Random Thought: "... So don't you weep... I'm your angel, standing by..."
Music: none.


I've been having some very weird dreams lately. The one about Mark started them all, but last night was the weirdest, I think.

This is scattered, so just bear with me.

I was here, at home, and it was late--my mom had already gone to bed. I was watching TV, when I saw this light outside. I turned everything off--television, lights, everything--and watched and waited. I'd seen this before, though. Might've been earlier in the dream, I don't know, but it was just familiar.

It was a troop (literally, they were lined up like a troop of soldiers, or a marching band in a parade) of frat boys chanting "To-ga, to-ga". DON'T LAUGH (even though I'm laughing myself now)! It was kind of freaky at the time, because it was like they were out of control--like a mob.

Yeah, a mob of frat boys.

Anyway.

I hid behind the chairs in the living room, and kept peeking over them, out the front door. The door itself was open, but the storm door (which is pretty much all glass) was closed. And locked.

Now, there's a car place just across the road from us that has all of these street lights, so our yard stays pretty much illuminated all night, which meant that I could see people trampling over our property. And then this guy passed by our front steps, stopped, turned to the door, and he wanted to come inside. It took him all of two seconds to get past the lock on the storm door (I knew that thing was no good).

I had the cordless phone in my hand, so I immediately dialed 9-1-1. However, I want to point out that I wasn't really scared of the guy. I was vaguely nervous--obviously, there was a strange man in my house--and a bit wary, but not outright scared. Anyway, I dialed 9-1-1 and started listening to it ring.

As it rang (and rang, and rang...), he walked around, casually inspecting everything in the living room. I saw my mom come out of her bedroom (half dressed) and waved her back inside. I had no idea what this guy might be capable of, even if he did seem to just be making himself at home.

So, there I was, watching him as he looked around at our things (he'd glance over at me every now and then), listening to the emergency number ring and ring and ring... And then he flopped down on the couch and made himself comfortable.

*blink*

I walked over to the end of the couch, and just stood there, watching him and listening to the ringing on the other end of the line. I think the guy fell asleep at some point. Next thing I know, it's starting to get light outside (I'm still standing there, with the phone to my ear, waiting for some-damn-body to answer my call!)... And my dad walks through the front door. And everything is good and right. At last.

I'm not sure exactly what he said to me, but I left the room, and went to get my mom out of bed. When we got back in the living room, we both looked out the window, and my dad was out there, beating the holy living shit out of this guy.

And I don't mean, man to man. It was more like.... God to man. If that makes any sense. It wasn't until he had beaten him across the road and into the middle of the property over there, that he turned around and came back home. And I remember the guy (looking pretty bad at this point), standing up and running away.

When Daddy came back in the door this time, he was dressed in one of his uniforms. I want to say it was his Coast Guard uniform. And he looked so good. I mean, just like I remembered him. Nothing out of place, everything just as it should be. Unlike all those other dreams I've had.

He walked around the house, inspecting it, and pointing out things to me that needed to be fixed (for instance, there was one really bad spot on the wall in my mom's room that was leaking). And as we were walking back to the living room, I don't know if I said something to him about the incident outside, but I felt like it had been a good vs. evil kind of thing. And he turned around to me, and said something like, "Yeah. That's why He teams us up six to nine."

....

Now, you probably don't have a clue what that means, but I do.

For so long, I've been struggling with myself--not able to believe that he was in a better place now. Not able to believe that there was anything after this life because this life was too harsh and cruel to be followed by something so pure and perfect. We'd burned his body, and he was now in this tiny box in the ground. And that was it. He was gone and nothing remained and I had to take care of everything in his place.

But he believed in angels. He believed in that absolute goodness--that it could defeat anything. And because he did, I have to believe that's what he is now.

An angel. Looking down on me... and kicking ass when he's needed.

<< - >>


Save The Rayne! - 2004-12-27
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