First Line Challenge #17 - "A Dream Within a Dream"

"O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?"

-Edgar Allan Poe

She awoke abruptly from the dream, the images vivid in her mind's eye,

And caught a barely stifled scream the moment ‘ere she let it fly.

So slowly, Marcie lifted stealthy eyelids just the slightest crack,

And glanced to left and right all swiftly, fearful of some blind attack,

But found the night was still and silent—finally! she could exhale,

Relief (so sharp, 'twas nearly violent) sweetly swept her skin so pale,

And flooded her like maple syrup poured on waffles, crisp and warm.

Night terrors fled as crickets chirrup’d, nothing here did wish her harm.

 

Whatever stole through Marcie's slumber was not real, she told herself.

What nightmare specter would encumber her in sleep? Some devious elf?

She laughed a little, glad to find her sense of humor still intact,

She was regaining peace of mind (a mind that wasn't even cracked)!

She finally felt relaxed enough to: put the shotgun on the floor,

Return the mace (though this was tough) back to the bedside table drawer,

Hit "cancel" on her cell-phone where she'd auto-dialed 9-1-1,

And take that poor old Teddy Bear back down the hall to hug her son.

 

She sat up in her bed and squinted, realized she'd dreamed again!

No shotgun metal brightly glinted--that "mace" she'd seen was just a pen.

Her cell-phone was not in her hand, nor set to dial emergency,

Instead, 'twas charging on its stand, experiencing no urgency.

No grinch concealed, or heffalump was tracking her around the house,

There was no jabberwock at large, or even the proverbial mouse.

However, one thing was consistent between what was real and her dreams,

Her son's poor Teddy was existent-- she'd hugged so hard, she'd burst his seams!

 

She smiled at dear old Mr. Bear, then threw the covers back and stood,

Donned fuzzy striped cat footwear and a matching robe with hood.

But as she stepped into the hall and started off towards Charlie's room,

She did not listen there at all, nor see the gleaming through the gloom.

She carried Charlie's “injured” friend through living room and to the den,

Where there was thread to use for mending so he'd be like new again.

Pincushions offered needles and she sewed him up so very tight,

He perked right up as if she’d taken five years off him overnight!

 

But then she thought she heard from her son’s bedroom just a little snore.

Somehow, this caused her dread to stir; instead of less, it caused much more!

And as she walked towards Charlie's room, she thought she heard more noise--

Was that a squeal? A muffled boom? Charles playing with his toys?

Her steps sped up, then stopped, and then she did begin to run,

But at the door she dropped his bear and cried out, "Oh, my son!

"Are you alright? What do I hear? My dear, are you within?"

And when she heard no answer there, her trembling did begin.

 

There was no choice, she had to know, she had to step inside;

Was Charlie there? Her joy or woe therein must, too, reside!

She closed her eyes, and once again, she took a mighty breath.

She called upon her strength and then prepared for life or death.

And as she reached and grasped the knob, she felt the terror seize her!

She felt sharp claws and heaved a sob as they began to squeeze her!

The door gave way, and she did crash, pulled down by Mr. Teddy

And suddenly, the thought did flash, "I'm not awake already?!?"

She fought against exhaustion, but collapsed across the single bed.

She could not practice caution now when all she felt was growing dread.

Vise-tight shut eyes could not disguise it – she was all alone there,

“Admit it, then!” she cried -- her prized son was quite unknown there.

Blank spaces made her feel deluded, told her he did not exist:

No toys, no photos – all excluded,; no cake on the shopping list.

She went from up to down, no trace of Charlie could she find;

The rooms, hollow and empty, echoed back her state of mind.

 

At last, she slunk back to her room, her bed unmade as when she'd left,

She could not trust her mind or womb--was she insane? She felt bereft.

With no more teardrops left to cry, she thought she'd sleep as well as die,

She drifted off--in truth or lie? -- uncaring as to which, or why.

But what is this?  The light of day?! She hurls away sleep’s cruel ploy,

At last deception falls away, “Embrace me, Charlie!”—oh, such joy!

Her son is safe, his face does gleam, the sun shines down from clear, blue sky

…and she awakes abruptly from the dream, the images vivid in her mind's eye…