Remedy for a Dream

by Matt Cogar

  2

  OVERCOME YOUR DEMONS

  REMEDY

  FOR A

  DREAM

  A Tale of Redemption

  By Matt Cogar

  Copyright 2016 Matt Cogar

  1

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  2

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 1

  D R E A M L A N D

  It was a painfully chilling night. I could feel my skin crackling as if from the repeated stabbing of icicles. The rain had made my hair wet, and my path distorted. As I walked toward the dark, bleak house, I knew I had to confront it. We all have to face our demons sometimes.

  I reached out, and touched the wet door handle. As I passed the threshold, the harsh winds and rampant storm were replaced by the silence of abandonment, and the coldness of death, rushing at me with the distinctive force of reality. The house looked as if it hadn't been entered in years. Perhaps decades. Dust covered the floor and furniture, and cobwebs leaked across the walls and doorways. I entered the living room.

  The living room had brought with it the stillness of death. I felt a sudden breeze move, not past, but through me. The shivering coldness rushed through me like water freezing over, and a sudden, uninvited sense of dread filled my mind. My thoughts had been interrupted by the creaking from the floor above. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and went to investigate.

  I proceeded up the staircase, knife grimly clutched in my left hand. Apprehension filled my heart, and fear filled my mind. I knew not what was to come.

  4

  The master bedroom. I entered with suspense, and in contrast to my anticipation, all but the culprit awaited me.

  I felt eyes staring at me. Watching my every move. I turned around but nothing was there. Only silence. The stillness of the air became overwhelming, as my thoughts collided in conflict. I turned once more to see a feminine figure standing near the window, lit faintly by the moonlight.

  “Jack.” she whispered.

  “What are you?” I replied, overwhelmed by my own thoughts, and my own dread.

  No response. The room once again grew quiet. “I've been waiting for you.” Said the woman, as she slowly walked toward me. I clutched the knife tighter.

  As she stepped into the light, I saw her true form. She was no woman, but a demon. Her deformed, monstrous body vastly detached from her beautiful, siren-like voice.

  It grabbed onto me. Out of instinct, I stabbed it with the knife I held so tightly in my left hand. I pulled the blade from it's abdomen.

  It was then, I saw it's face, and my heart ached with the crushing, brutal force of revelation.

  CHAPTER 2

  T H E L A K E

  We were together, and alone. Not a single soul except us. We had been to this lake before, but every time I'm with her it's as if I'm seeing it for the first time. I wrapped my arm around her. She smiled and rested her head on my shoulder.

  “It's so beautiful,” she said. “Uh-huh,” I replied nonchalantly.

  “Please take me here again, Jack.” She responded.

  We sat, in peaceful silence, as the sun slowly rose over the calm waters.

  The delicate clouds glowed vibrantly against the morning sun. Her blonde hair, as aurous as golden tinsel, hung down to her breasts, somehow blanketed by a beautiful silk dress that seemed to only accentuate her ravishing figure. I found myself captivated by her. By the way her body danced as she moved, the way her smile seemed to illuminate the violet-red sky...I sighed. I held her soft, delicate hand. My heart throbbed as we walked side by side. I turned to her, gently putting my hands on her face. I hesitated at first, but then let myself go as my lips met hers.

  6

  Our lips danced, as I wrapped my arms around her waist, gently hugging her close to me. She put her arms around my neck as she jumped into me. I caught her, and our lips danced to the singing of angels. I felt more than captivated by her at this point. She was my world. My universe. My everything. I laid her down onto the golden sands of the beach. Every time our lips met, it was like spending a moment in heaven. If cupid had a bow, he was all out of arrows.

  I laid myself on top of her, our lips colliding in what could only be described as love. Before long, we had both been naked. But together, that didn't bother us. Sure, there was the possibility of getting caught, and having to explain ourselves to our parents, but we didn't care.

  Every moan she made was like the singing of angels, praising our unity. I couldn't tell you how long we were there, in each other's embrace. The sky brightened as we made love. Her body heaved, and I released. We laid side by side on the beach sands. I looked over to her.

  “I love you, Catherine.”

  CHAPTER 3

  W E D D I N G

  It was a glowing summer day. The vivid clouds, beautiful like a painting, splattered across the pinkish-red sky.

  That day I was exceedingly nervous, at least on the inside. I knew I loved her and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. But I couldn't help but shake the tremendous anxiety which consumed me.

  Surprisingly, I had somehow managed to arrive on time. I had actually came close to arriving late to the church, but I suppose luck had been on my side.

  I had been awaiting this moment for so long. Guests had continued entering the chapel as I watched, filling the dark wooden benches. Catherine's parents had passed away the year before, and I had made them a promise, to take care of her. I will never forget that promise.

  It was then I saw her. Everything about her was immensely beautiful, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes that would glow in the dark. Her face, so alluring, yet so pure. So delicate, yet so divine. She was all the more, my eternal addiction.

  Her wedding gown had only accentuated her ravishing figure, and it seemed to glow as if from the angelic, compassionate, innocent-natured woman that she truly was. Her

  8

  smile could shake the heavens, and her soul could move oceans. She was, and always will be, the love of my life.

  We stood together at the alter. The priest, a balding man seemingly in his late 60s or early 70s, had began the ceremony.

  “Jack Berkowitz, and Catherine Lauria. Today you enter as individuals, but you will leave here as husband and wife, embarking upon the grandest adventure of human interaction.”

  I couldn't help but stare into her breathtaking blue eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to a person's soul, and if it were true, wouldn't it then be true that I was looking into the soul of an angel?

  The priest continued. “The story of your life together is still yours to write.” Those words will stay with me till the day I die.

  “All those present have come to witness and to celebrate your love and commitment to this day, eager to be a part of the story not yet told,” continued the priest.

  “Do you, Jack Berkowitz, take Catherine Lauria to be your partner in life and to share your path; equal in love, a mirror for your true self, promising to honor and cherish,
through good times and bad, until death do you part?”

  I continued to look into her eyes, as I spoke. “I take you to be my wife, equal in love, as a mirror for my true self, as a partner on my path, to honor and to cherish, in sorrow and in joy, 'til death do us part.”

  The priest turned to Catherine. “Do you, Catherine Lauria, take Jack Berkowitz to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?”

  9

  Her voice sang in my mind as she spoke. “I take you to be my husband, in equal love, as a mirror for my true self, as a partner on my path, to honor and to cherish, in sorrow and in joy, 'til death do us part.”

  It was then I took her soft, gentle hand. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness. I place it on your finger as a symbol of my love for you.” I slid on the ring.

  Catherine spoke then, with great joy, “I will forever wear this ring as a sign of my commitment and the desire of my heart,” she proclaimed before the heavens and everyone else.

  “And now, by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife,” declared the priest. “You may kiss your bride.”

  Without hesitation, I had taken Catherine into my arms, and affectionately kissed her with all the love, passion, and emotion that was contained within my own soul.

  The priest spoke, for the last time. “Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, I present to you, for the first time, Mr. Jack and Mrs. Catherine Berkowitz.”

  CHAPTER 4

  M A D L Y I N L O V E

  “Honey I'm home,” I called as I entered the house. There was a whimsical silence as I approached the living room.

  I found the living room to be dimly lit, by candles. As I entered the room I discovered Catherine awaiting my arrival in the corner. “Hello there, mister.” She giggled.

  “Hello there, beautiful. You here all alone?” “Kinda. Waiting for my prince to arrive.” “I am here for you, my princess.”

  Catherine ran over to me leaping into my arms as I caught her, embracing her. Our lips had met in enthusiastic unity.

  I had fallen onto the couch behind us, Catherine, the love of my life, in my arms.

  “Just promise me one thing,” Catherine asked, as I listened attentively.

  “That we will be together. Always. Forever.”

  “I wouldn't want anyone else but you, Catherine. You are the love of my life, and always, always will be.”

  CHAPTER 5

  C L I N I C

  As humans we all have nightmares. Fears, that shock us during the day, and stalk us at night. They snatch us when we are most vulnerable. We try and run away. We try to shut it away in our minds. But our tactics never succeed. They always fail. What terrifies us most will always be there, haunting us, dragging us down into the very depths of insanity. I had found myself tormented by horrifying nightmares ever since the day I met Catherine. But this one was particularly frightening.

  The treeline was dark, and seemed to decay slowly with every passing moment. I couldn't help but feel an alarming sense of dread.

  We had surrounded the grave before us, as I had found myself staring endlessly at the nameless tombstone before me.

  I had become increasingly soaked by the thick rainfall. Somehow, the dark-clothed people around me weren't even wet. It was as if the rain wasn't touching them, despite the rain's veiling of their shadowy faces.

  In this surreal, dark event, we were together, but I was alone. Separated from the rest.

  The priest was creepy somehow. Was it his elderly, pale face? Or perhaps it was his painfully ominous presence. It was then

  12

  he spoke.

  “Here me, friends and family of the deceased. We have gathered here today in memory of the one whose life was taken away by a cold, ruthless killer.”

  A dark-suited, grim-looking man glared at me through his shadowy face. He spoke to me, but the words became lost in thought.

  I turned to the priest. He did nothing but stare into my soul, as he tossed a shovel to my feet. I picked up the shovel.

  The dark cloud of people had receded, as I found myself cold, drenched, and alone. I approached the grave, and proceeded to dig.

  I looked over at the crowd of “people” behind me, and they watched me, with hauntingly ghastly stares.

  The priest urged me. “Dig. Dig deep and discover your

  fate!”

  I had continuously dug through the nameless grave with the cold, rustic shovel he had given me.

  As I had finished, I turned to the crowd behind me, but they had vanished. Gone. Just gone. It was as if they had never existed physically, rather in the deep dark recesses of my mind.

  I had attempted to back away from the grave but slipped on the mud created from the endless rainfall. I had gotten to my feet, and threw one last shovelful of dirt over my shoulder.

  I knelt, and whipped away the remaining muddy dirt. Nothing could have prepared me for the tragically terrifying, horrible being that lay in the casket before me.

  13

  I awoke that morning in a cold sweat, screaming. I couldn't remember what I had screamed. But I knew it was something important to me.

  “Are you okay?” Catherine was laying in bed beside me. “Yeah...I'm fine,” I replied.

  “I'm fine...” I whispered to myself, somewhat unsure. “Are you sure?” Catherine had asked.

  “Yeah...yeah, don't worry about it. It's nothing. I'm alright,” I told her, although I'm not sure if I was trying to convince her, or myself.

  “It's just...I'm worried, Jack. You've been having so many nightmares lately.”

  “I just...” I couldn't hold back the tears. I had feared that my dream wasn't just a dream, but of events yet to come.

  “Jack. Jack, what's wrong?” Catherine asked.

  “I dreamed that you were dead. I dug up a grave, and saw you in it. It was vivid. It felt so real.” I cried in her embrace.

  “Why don't you write about it?” Catherine recommended. “It might help you cleanse your mind. Maybe the nightmares will stop.”

  We had kissed as she had gotten out of bed and walked over to the bathroom. I had gotten dressed and stood in the corner, contemplating the dream I had just experienced.

  It was then, I heard agonizing screams emanating from inside the bathroom. I ran to the door. I had tried to open it but it wouldn't budge. “Catherine!” I yelled out.