The Three Black Hats

I am on an air mattress.  It is covered in a cotton sheet.  I am stretched out on my back beneath a soft fleece blanket. I am in the end room of a double wide trailer.  The trailer is nestled in a quiet neighborhood which is dense with trees.  There are no traffic sounds.  I am falling into sleep slowly.

I may have passed time, into the REM and back out again. All I know is that I am lucidly awake.  I feel a prickling energy all over my body.  There is no pain.  It is electric.  Every hair on my skin is moving.  I can feel each folical.  There is a source pull.  It is coming from the large window on my left.

I wanted to cover that window when I first arrived here back in Washington State where I am staying with family. I was telling my nephew that it made me uncomfortable at night, because there is only a sheer shell of a curtain. It’s so dark outside I feel like someone could watch me.

“Someone could stand out there and see me.” I told him.

He assured me he would cover it the next day.

I decided I would go that weekend and buy some blackout curtains to cover the window. 

Now, on the same evening, I am here on this mattress feeling frozen with fear, having awakened in the morning hours, two/three am.  I am wishing I had not waited.  I should have gone right then and bought curtains.

I feel compelled to look at the window to be sure that I’m not just imagining the feeling that I am being observed. I am terrified to turn my head.  I lay still, focused on keeping my breathing steady.  I know someone is there.  I know it without a doubt.  Still, I have to see to be sure it’s not all in my head.

I finally move my eyes very, very slowly and just slightly enough to the left to give me an adequate view to see out of the window.  If there is someone there they shouldn’t be able to see through the darkness into my room if I move my head very slowly.

Through the sheer of the curtains I see them.  Three men.  Side by side.  They are around five feet tall, each the exact same height.  They are dressed identical, in dark suits and matching dark overcoats. They have on button up shirts with maroon ties. They wear black hats, Hollisters, with maroon ribbons that match their ties.

Their hands are behind their backs.  I do not move. It crosses my mind that they may use telepathy and feel that I am awake. Then it suddenly feels insignificant.  They know already.

I slowly move my head back to the middle of the pillow. They feel like robots.  They were not looking at me directly but rather into the room as if awaiting orders or something.  My heart is pounding rapidly, and I breathe to calm it down. 

I tell myself I am silly, but I am too terrified to glance toward the window again.  I still want to confirm that I am not imagining all of this.  I am linearly focus on going back to sleep.  Something inside tells me I cannot be awake for what is going to happen next.

“Go back to sleep.”  I urge myself.

“Go back to sleep.” I say it over and over.

I close my eyes. I think that I must go back to sleep so that I won’t feel what they are going to do to me.  I make myself laugh inside my head.  What a silly notion.  This shit’s not real.  Yet, beneath my attempts to convince myself, I know they have the ability to take one step and walk through the wall.  Then there will be no escaping for me.  They’ll be in the house. Escaping from what?

I tell myself again that this is also a ridiculous notion.  Because they’re reading my thoughts and know all of my plans.  So, I can must go back to sleep and get through it.  So I drift back down into the chasm of REM.

In the morning I wonder if my memory is real or if it was a dream.

(Dreamt in 2010, Olympia, Wa)

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