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The Angels within

I was suddenly awakened by a clamoring in my living room, I heard several voices in deep discussion, the subject eluded me though. I leaned across the bed and grabbed my mobile to check the time, 4:30am.  A sudden panic rushed over me. Who were these people and why were they in my house at 4:30 in the morning? I quickly slid the black case from underneath my night stand and opened it to reveal my personal protection, a Springfield 45. I was totally unsure as to what I was about to do, adrenaline had flooded my synapses. I had to do something. With no forethought, I opened the door from the hallway that lead into the living room, holding the jet black weapon in hand as if I was on a military raid.  The scene was far more shocking than I could have imagined.

Women. Women were everywhere  They were mostly older looking women.  They had dispersed themselves throughout the house but were mostly socializing in my kitchen and den. As I glanced around, I noticed that they all had the same look on their faces. They appeared both severe yet supportive. As I walked into the crowd, one women gently pushed my arms down and away from harm. She said,”Oh honey, you will not be needing that.” The sincerity with which she spoke immediately put me at ease and yet the oddness of everything remained.  I asked,”Who are you and why are you here?” Suddenly all conversation ceased and all the women looked at me. I felt a wave of embarrassment as if I was being scolded for talking in the library.  She grasped my hand and looked at me very lovingly as if I was her grandchild and replied,”We are here for you, my child.”

The women now surrounded me in somewhat circular fashion. Normally. this would be alarming but again I felt as if they were there to take care of me. Another women walked through the den and into the living room where I was standing.  She looked very familiar but I could not place her.  She walked straight towards me and asked,” Do you know who I am?” I said,”Sorry I do not, but you look so familiar.” She embraced me quickly and said,”I took the form of someone you know so that you would feel more comfortable.” Although her intention was to comfort me, this statement left me frightened and confused. My eyes surveyed my surroundings again and I looked at the woman and again asked,”Who are you?”

Before the woman could answer, I realized that there was something not right about the scene in the den. Something was afoot and so I slowly walked toward it, the women all stepping back out-of-the-way as I reached them. And there it was, the reason for which the women were there and the source of all my anxiety. It was me.  I was laying on a beautiful assortment of fabric, my eyes were closed and I was not moving.  There were women kneeling all around me and whispering almost in prayer. A hand touched my arm and it was the woman I had been talking to before. She said to me,”We are your guides and we are here to help you.” Despite the supportive tone and energy of the room, I began to fall apart. Help me what? I could only assume I was dying and they were there to help me with the transition. But I did not want to die, I was not ready to die. My God, I was only 30 years old! I grabbed the women by her both arms and vigorously pleaded,”No, I am not ready. What is wrong with me? Why am I dying?”

Everything that was said next seemed to seep into my subconscious more so through osmosis than actual conversation. I gleaned that I was dying from cancer but that it was a cancer of the soul rather than the body. That over the course of my life, all the traumatic experiences had caused parts of me to mutate and surrender to death rather than thirst for life. I was dying from a lack of will. I watched myself for a moment on the colorful pallet where they had placed me. My chest was barely rising and falling and with each breath becoming weaker. I turned to the woman again and told her that I did not want to die. The supportive aspect of her face changed to the severity I had noticed earlier and she said to me,”Then this is your chance. And it is your last one. You must choose to live and really live. We will only help you if you understand that. We know what you have been through and we are sorry for that but you can not give up, if you do this is what will happen.” I nodded that I understood and we embraced and even though it was just an embrace between the two of us, i felt as if every woman in that room was holding me.

I had this dream last night around 4:30 in the morning on the night of a full moon…………………………Now I must try to make good on my chance.