Do Not Enter

Author Notes:

I based this story on a dream that I actually had around 2004. I put "creative nonfiction" as a category mainly because I did have the dream and my grandmother did pass away shortly after I had the dream.

I found myself at the old house on Graycroft Street. The sky was a dark, overcast gray and the sun was setting behind the hills beyond the house. I walked slowly up the gravel driveway, listening as the ground crunched beneath my shoes. That was when I saw a single crow perched atop the awning of the old house, staring down at me with the alertness of a watchman.

I shifted my gaze to the yard near the dining room window watching as my grandfather wearily fiddled with something like old farm equipment that had been used , oiling it's axles and joints. His suspenders stretched over his worn, threadbare tan shirt, while he inspected the old machine like an engineer. He motioned me to come to him so that he could explain how the device worked. I watched him as his long, wrinkled hands manipulated the wheels while applying grease to the axles.

"You see, Billy?" he said to me. "If you take care of your gear, it will take care of you."

I stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded., not knowing what to say to him at first, Then when I finally found my voice, I croaked out "Grandad?"

Then without a word to me, he slowly rose to his feet, bones cracking with the effort.

"I'm tired, Billy", he murmured softly as he walked towards the entrance to the old house. The crow on the roof, looked down at me and cawed as if in warning as the sky above continued to darken further

"Grandad?", I called out to him as he entered the home. I watched as he entered, his back turned to me.

"Caw!", the bird uttered.

Ignoring it, I walked to the porch, and reached for the handle of the door

"Caw!" 

Another warning. I shouldn't go inside. I shouldn't, but part of me, wanted to know. Grandad was already dead. He had passed three years ago and yet, here he was at the old house. How was this possible?

I opened the door and the sky turned black as soot. I hurried inside and closed the door, found the lamp by the couch and turned it on. It's light only allowed me to see a few feet in front of me

For a brief moment, I saw his retreating form, slowly heading towards the kitchen. 

"Grandad?", I called. The sound of my voice seemed small and faint to my ears. I walked further in the living room, heading into the darkness, following the sound of his footsteps.

The door to the hallway creaked open loudly, echoing on the hardwood floor as he entered. I followed him, crossing the kitchen to the door, the lamplight in the front room, fading into the background. I felt sweat on my forehead as my stomach turned into a knot. My hand touched the wooden door.

I didn't have to go into that hallway. No one was telling me to follow him. I could just go back to the front room. I could also leave the house and the crow outside. Instead, I swallowed and I pushed on the old door, it's creaking hinges echoing off of the walls. Beyond that door was blackness, save for a sliver of light coming from the room at the end of the hall. 

"No. Go back. Go back". My voice came out in a croaking whisper, or at least I thought it was my voice. I touched my lips and they were trembling as the whispering continued like an icy wind.   

I turned around to head back, but, by that time, I could no longer see the large wooden door.

“Grandad?”, my voice squeaked. “No!”

Tears started forming in my eyes as I sank to my knees, overwhelmed by the suffocating and unforgiving blackness, then I heard the slow creak of a door opening, letting more of the light inside. My heart raced as I got up and ran towards the light of the room at the end. As soon as I got to the entrance, my heart froze.

   In front of me was a large bed, where my grandmother lay asleep, her breathing shallow and a black cat, set on its haunches right next to her, watching her with its yellow eyes.

    My grandfather, squatting on the floor on my left, was sorting through objects in the bottom dresser drawer.

    “Grandad?”, I said softly. “Grandad, aren’t you dead?”

      I felt the black cat turning to face me for the first time, its yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. I shuddered as it continued gazing at me as if to say “you’re not supposed to be here”. The hair on my neck rose in shock as it continued its stare for a moment longer then turned back to face my grandmother, who slowly rose to a seated position, her body shriveled like a raisin and her eyes hollow as a cave.

     Her mouth hung open as if death itself was pulling it down.

     “Yes”, I heard her voice say softly. “I am”

I finally let out the scream I had been fearing and fled out of the room, not caring how dark it was in the hallway. My screams grew louder and louder as finally barrelled through the wooden door to the kitchen, and headed straight for the front door and ran out into the dark night, the lone crow continuing to let sound its ominous caw.

I woke up in bed, soaking in sweat, breathing as if I had run a marathon

“Hey, honey! You okay?” my wife said, her hand caressing my shoulder. I took a few shuddering breaths, taking in my surroundings, assuring myself of their reality.  

  “Yeah.” , I said. “Just a dream. Just a bad dream”.  

   “Must’ve been really bad, honey. You were kicking like a wild horse! I had to shake you awake!”

    “Hunh?,” I said looking at her, her worried face illuminated only by the red glow of the alarm clock. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Just a bad dream. It’s okay.”

    “Okay, If you need to talk, I’m here. You know that right?”

I shakily nodded and smiled as I laid my head back on the soft pillow beside her letting my eyelids flutter as the clock changed to 3:01 AM.

***************

At sunrise, we both awakened to the sound of our telephone. It was the nursing home, informing us that my grandmother had passed away around 3 AM.

I sat down numbly at the table after hearing the news, knowing full well that she was near death when I last saw her.  

It did cause me to wonder. Was it merely a dream or did I somehow cross a threshold that wasn’t meant to be crossed by the living?

Who knows?