A "Dream" and Missing Time (Summer 2003, Granville, NY)

The following entry was initially written in June 2010, seven years after the event described. I have no explanation, assuming everyone involved was being honest.






In the summer of 2003 I was 19. I was staying with a girlfriend in her parents house, in a small town with no prospects. I was unhappy, but it was where she wanted to be. I was there for four months or so before my father called.



It was a normal phone call. How are you. What have you been up to. Somehow or another, I expressed that I was miserable in my current situation, and I needed to get out. He offered me a job working for him installing tile floors, and a one bedroom apartment underneath his, while I saved up enough money to move us into our own place. I took the offer, and after talking it over with Her, I moved out the next day. The deal was that she would visit me as often as possible, and a constant reassurance that we were not broken up. 



So, I moved into my one bedroom apartment in a smaller farming town, an hour away. It was a wonderful feeling to be out, alone again. Quiet. I decorated my apartment. I unboxed my shit that had been packed away for months. I played guitar at two in the morning. I watched porn and smoked in the house. I felt great. Work was hard. Cutting stone. Moving pallets of it. Washing, placing, grouting, sealing. It was hard work, but it felt wonderful. I would wake up at six in the morning, smoke a joint, go to work, work all day, come home, eat dinner, and go to bed. On days off, I would write music and lay around enjoying my life.



She and I, we had a system. I couldn’t afford a phone, and since my father lived directly above me, she would call him, and he would come to get me. She only called after six, but before ten, that way I would be home from work, and it wouldn’t be too late to have my father go downstairs to get me.



One day, after a very long day at work, in very hot weather, I came home around six, and decided to take a shower. I did, and afterward, I figured I would take a quick nap. I laid down in my bed at about 6:30. I went to sleep.



When I woke up, the clock on my dresser said it was 10:46. I got up, turned on my bedroom light, and decided to head upstairs to see what my father was up to. I went outside, knocked on his door (“It’s open!”) and walked up his stairs.



I walked into his living room, and he looked up at me and said “Hey, where’ve you been?”



“Oh, I took a nap. I was fucking beat.”



“You sure?” he asked me.



“Yeah, why?”



“Well, you got a phone call and when I went downstairs you weren’t around. I figured maybe you walked into town.”



“What? No. I was in bed,” I said.



“No, you weren’t. I checked. I even called your name a few times.”



I was a little spooked by the situation, but then realized I was about to have a fucking argument with Her. “So, she called?”



“Yeah. She called a few times after. I told her I’d have you call her as soon as I saw you.”



“Fuck,” I said.



“Come up with something good,” my father said. He still believed I went out.



I went in the other room and dialed her number. She picked up, and immediately lit into me. Where was I. Who was I with. Did I fuck someone.



I tried to explain to her that I was in my bed, asleep. She said my dad went looking for me. She could hear him call my name through the phone. I told her he was probably just too lazy to go downstairs, but he had never been before, so, even I didn’t buy that.



We argued, we made peace, I hung up, and went back downstairs, confused. I didn’t think too much of it, and decided to just go back to bed.



I turned off my lights and laid down. It took a while, but eventually I fell asleep. 



In my dream, I woke up and looked at the clock on my dresser. It read 8:05. I noticed that my bathroom door (which was in my bedroom), had light around it, as if I had I left the light on. I sat up to go turn it off, but then my body froze. I couldn’t lay back down, I couldn’t move my arms or my neck, I could only stare at the bathroom door. The light got brighter and brighter, until eventually, it filled the room, and the door all but disappeared. I was terrified. My heart was pounding, but I just couldn’t breathe, and then in my dream, I passed out.



I woke up the next morning, and I had no idea what any of it meant. I still don’t, but I believe something happened to me at 8:05 that night. I was gone.








It's been almost twenty years and I remember the dream vividly. I remember the look of confusion on my fathers face. I remember arguing with my ex. The only explanation that makes sense to me is that my father did not want to go get me for the phone call for whatever reason and lied about it. However, the confusion on his face then, and when I questioned him about it later tells me that isn't the case.