The Doors to Hell

Last night, I awoke from a nightmare around 2:15 a.m.. I was so startled and disturbed from the experience that I was awakened several more times before I finally rose.

I don't remember dreams very often, and haven't had a nightmare that I recall since childhood. This was a significant event.

There were three players in my dream; my late father who died in 1989, the Devil, and yours truly. The dream began with a lengthy job interview. My dad was smartly dressed as usual, and the age he was at his death, two years younger than I am at this writing. I was also sharp, and answered what seemed like dozens of typical interview questions. There were even questions pertaining to the processes and results of other interviews that I have had over the years. Dad asked why I didn't get this or that job? He sat and listened, although his facial expression never changed. He looked kind and nonjudgmental. Finally, the interview was over, but still no idea how I was being taken, he did not offer any verbal communication at the end. However, I was invited to go for a ride.

Dad held the door as I entered a pristine condition, 1999 Cadillac DeVille. It was gold with a rag top. It was so clean, and smelled new. I sat calmly, patiently trusting the situation. We drove what seemed like a relatively short distance. We arrived at a very large grey warehouse looking building. Dad drove the car inside, and the giant garage door closed behind us. We got out of the Caddy.

A short 60-ish grizzly looking man walked towards us. At this point he made me feel uncomfortable, and I stood closer to my dad with my left arm just above his waste. He still said nothing bearing that interviewer's poker face. The short man walked over to very large doors about 8ft square. The doors were level with the floor.

The short man opened one door, and then the other. Giant flames licked towards the ceiling from the opening. I somehow suddenly knew that the doors were opened to hell. I looked at dad, who nodded slightly confirming my assumptions. I looked again at the raging flame, at dad's face, and back at the flame. I buried my face in my dad's chest as we knew it was time, and that the short man was the Devil. He gently pulled me from my dad, as I awoke dripping in sweat and tears.