Faces of the Dead

a few nights ago i had the worst dream of my life. i attended a film festival that i was a part of putting on, featuring live action effects.

in one film that had no live element, it was posed as old documentary footage sent from one person to another. it was of two couples who seemed on a weekend getaway. first it was about the two couples and their kids, but then they left for a cabin in the mountains.

the two had fun inside and out by the lake. then the men left on an errand. the women got a bit drunk. a camera on a moving conveyor belt went upstairs to find them naked in bed, where they looked at and touched one another's bodies. the skinnier one looked at the other and said, "it's as though we were twins! how your body mimics mine." she touched the other's vagina as an assurance. the two kissed gently. it was not about the sex, it was about the kindredness.

when the men returned home from their trip, the husband of the skinnier woman (both women were blondes) was infuriated by what he found. he went for his shotgun. he put a bullet in his own wife's head. then, he ran down the stairs to find his male friend, who he felt owed him something, and put a bullet in his brain too. he collapsed to the floor.

the wife of the other, now dead, man, came down the stairs and sat down a few steps above the now-sitting man with the shotgun. she pleaded with him calmly, saying it was all innocent, not sexual, that there was no need for all this. he turned slowly and aimed the gun at her forehead. slowly, a bullet was emitted. it slowly, tenderly, arrived at her head, where it gently burrowed in as her skull rearranged itself to accomodate the new visitor. she fell to the floor a misshapen mess, her skull now oblong, her eyes void and strange. a mess of flesh and blood adorned the space around her head. i cold see her face through the floor, as though she'd landed on glass. her slacked jaw lay slightly open and dislocated.

the husband, feeling some sense of obligation, dragged her outside to the daylight of the autumnal field. with the gun, he put a nickel into the open exit wound, and tried to close it with ligaments of still-attached skull fragments.

the film ended. i had tried so hard to keep my eyes closed and covered, but somehow i'd still seen everything. i awoke to the realization that this had been the single worst thing i'd ever seen in my entire life, and i lay awake completely unsure of what to do next, opening my eyes to momentarily scan the room and then clenching them tightly under the covers. i fell back asleep moments later.