Female,
art therapist/artist/painter-decorator, born
1956
My son raced into the flat leaving the door open and ran
down the corridor to his bedroom. I was in the front room
and turned around in surprise and then fearing that he was
being pursued by a gang with knives, ran out of the flat
and up the stairs shouting,
"What do you want?"
With no sign of a pursuer I returned down the stairs to
notice a door adjacent to my front door that was ajar with
light coming from within. The door was smaller than the
normal size, more like a cupboard door with holes in it as
if for ventilation, one that was used for a larder or
cellar. By this time I was aware that there was someone
next to me, a small girl who stood close by, frightened,
holding onto my dress. I felt as if I was a mother.
I opened the door and looked inside aware that this was
someone's house and I looked down the corridor.
Interestingly the corridor seemed to be in the same
position as if it was in my own flat, but this corridor was
dimly lit with a naked light bulb at the far end. There was
wooden panelling and a cupboard under the stairs. At the
end of the corridor was shelving storing things that were
dusty with cobwebs.
As I stood in the corridor I again called out "What do you
want?" A short stocky man came down the stairs. As he
turned at the bottom of the corridor to come towards me, I
noticed he was middle aged with receding grey hair that was
cut short. He wore a vest and looked as if he had been
caught off duty or had just got out of bed. It seemed to me
that he was some sort of keeper, butler or messenger. I
thought he was holding a bunch of keys. He walked towards
me and I backed off out of the flat thinking I had been
intruding on his territory. He came out of the flat as well
then and confronted me. I tried to repeat "What do you
want?", but my mouth seemed to have become full of glue and
I was unable to form any words. He also opened his mouth to
show me he had no tongue and was unable to speak however I
seemed to know he was reflecting back my attemped words.
I
woke up in a fright as if from a nightmare, with the
feeling that I had touched on something that was not of
this world.