Of Demons and Holy Water

Frequently, I have very strange, vivid dreams, but I usually don’t remember them long enough to write them down. Usually, I dream of places I have never been, people I do not know, and in great James Bondian style of intrigue, mysterious happenings, and great feats. I am rarely  in danger per se, but am the one saving the world, rescuing the lost, well, you get the idea. Keep in mind that my dreams are all technicolor extravaganza style full onset smells even.

Last night was different. I was visiting my mother, who sabotaged me at every step of the way once I turned about 11 in real life. I was racing around her house, grabbing table cloths and long kitchen knives so I could hide from my uncle who was going to murder me. My mother came to my hiding place, where I lay beneath the window of the door he was going to come through, and told me to move, taking all 6 knives away from me. I raced to hide under the bar stools in the only dark area, hidden beneath my table cloth. I begged her to give me back my knives, and she returned 2 of them. I was found immediately because she told my uncle where I was when he came through the kitchen door. He pulled me out of my hiding place and started to strangle me. At that point I knifed him, except my nice long kitchen knives were now regular butter knives. Somehow I pierced one through his eye and into his brain while the other I forced into his chest. My mother just stood back and watched. She was not pleased that I had kept myself safe. After all I had just thwarted her plans for me.

I raced out of her house and found myself a bit in the future in a town I have not been to, or maybe I have and don’t remember it. My friends and I were walking from a shopping district into a housing area similar to the ones in New Orleans. We went through the curved, wooden gate into the back courtyard of one of the homes, when a teenage boy with copper colored hair joined us. He closed and latched the gate behind him as we walked to the other side of the pool. Looking across the rectangle of water, I watched as he shimmered and the overlay of teenager dimmed long enough for me to see the demon he was. He seemed to stretch out into a large, muscular, winged demon before my eyes, yet his boy shape never changed. I was still able to see the overlay of human that he was enforcing, the illusion that he was casting. He looked directly at me and told me that he was here to collect us, to dispose of us, to dine upon us. Then he grinned.

Without thinking about what I was doing, I stepped forward and found myself in the middle of the pool. I looked to the demon, then I, who haven’t been to church in literally years, crossed myself and said, “In the name of the father, and the son, and the holy ghost, I bless this water!” The water began to glisten, then to glow softly.

The demon’s eyes grew wide as he replied, “You cannot live in a pool forever.” Then he smirked at me and began stalking over to my friends who had neither moved nor spoken since he entered the gate.

“Your friends will be my snack. You, I shall feast upon after you have had your … bath.”

Then I did as anyone who has ever played in a pool knows to do. I cupped my hands and splashed him with the holy water that I was standing in. The water swelled up, rising in a great swoosh of sparkling wonder, and coated that demon sizzling everywhere it touched. He steamed, then disappeared before my eyes.

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