flowing java thougts…

So, where in fresh hell was I? Oh yes, I’m ten years old which is an interesting concept thinking about it because I certainly wasn’t ten years young. No ten year old should live with the fear and anxiety that suffered me. One month prior to the disconcerting relocation to Hades I was perhaps as carefree a rapscallion as any other but following this move I found myself, for the most part, immobilized and void of nearly all my resolve and happiness yet so much more wise regarding the existence of doom in the world.

There were no friends to be found among the sticky cobwebs of Greiner’s belongings nor any signs of hope regarding the gossamer of tangled anxious meanderings of my thoughts. Was this “grayness” always within me or was it created by this move forced upon me? This, I’ll never know for sure but the imprint of dread felt as if it were crushed into me like a big hairy footprint from some beast that had nothing but ill intent and maliciousness on its mind.

I may have suffered less that summer had it not been for those Albtraums, those intimidatingly foreboding nightmares that came to me and found me so often in my nightly surreal world . I’d wake from my fitful slumbers entirely exhausted and despondent already dreading the next night to come. I found that the days weren’t much relief at all as I wrestled with a secret demon that found its existence in the essence of my being; perhaps this was the beginning of my existential development which is still till this day the moral and thought producing fiber of my soul.

If only my parents were more astute or less preoccupied with their own new tasks this relocation created they may have realized the miasma of doom surrounding and consuming me. If they had been aware of my deteriorating condition things would have been less lonely and frightening or at least, less frightening and less lonely. And who knows? They may have been dealing with disillusionment and maladaptive issues of their own. I mean really, this move was not well received by any of us because nothing ever felt right after we left our modern sanctuary with its olympic size pool and all the whistles and bells of a world that was now long gone. Why did grandpa purchase a haunted apartment building and why, oh the gods why, did we have to move…There?

The nightmares are fresh and living with me still and still I’ve yet to appear these phantoms to you… but reader, do you want to know? Does my recollection ability scare you at all? Shall I peel the memories of my personal horror from the spidery arachnoid mater layer of my brain and tell all? I’m getting there. I’m feeling brave and less worried that revealing such pains will not return these “poltergeistlike” apparitions to the surface forever and for All!

To be continued…