I am overlooking a vision of myself: Hundreds of me are knelt in prayer to Almighty God; side by side, as far as my eyes can see. I can easily discern that each is of a different time or place, the last, and closest to me, is the me that writes these lines.
There is another figure, who stands tall and directly behind each and every ‘me’. It is Anubis. His manner is stiff and there is a sense of stern vigilance about him. Time passes. Suddenly, Anubis plunges his right hand into the upper part of the back of my head. His hand lingers as blood and gore spill out. This happens to each of ‘me’, simultaneously. Finally, he pulls his hand away and I die. Every one of ‘me’ dies.
As I watch, it hits me that I will never live, again. After millennia, I will never return to this earthly home. There is no hope and there is no more chance to right my wrongs. I am dead. Truly.
I wake up screaming and crying and angry. Though I do not believe in reincarnation, I am full of sorrow and hurt and fear. I am full of hatred for Anubis and the pain he brings, each time he visits me in a dream. But, more than anything, as I lie in my bed, I am accosted by more questions than I have answers to.
After waking from a dream such as that, even the beauty of a grey Mayberry day is lost on me. I have two Anubis dreams, neither of which I understand. Both of which leave me confused and feeling shaken to the core. Of all the nightmares I have, they, particularly, make me give pause to wonder if I’m really alive, at all, or if I ever was alive, to begin with.