The succession of reality snippets and the dream world are exhausting my mind. I am walking in the neighbourhood and the buildings begin shifting forms and I start elevating only to understand that I am already awake with my eyes looking at the blank canva of the ceiling. Without noticing I have already stood up and walked to the bathroom to wash my sweaty face and help me make some sense out of this turbulent flow of time and space. With the cool water dripping from my eyes I look straight into the mirror where my tired eyes should be looking back at me in shock. The only reflection I see is the clear figure of the old lady. But this time she is different. For the first time I feel no anxiety, no terror. An unexpected excitement starts flooding my mind. For the first time this old figure looks very familiar. It doesn’t make any rational sense but I start realising that it’s me. It has always been me. The reflection of her memories sharply cross my own mind. An older self, a long forgotten life starts passing by in front of my eyes. And she whispers: “Jacob and Wilhelm trapped you down there”.
Trapped between four dark humid walls, I am staring at a rotten locked door. I feel young but very tired, as if a part of my soul is missing. I don’t know how I got here but at the same time it feels very familiar. And not on positive note. While sitting on a cold floor with my back against the moist brick wall which gives me the chills, a feeling of impending doom starts arising. A warm feeling is tingling my right palm. I look down on the hard concrete floor and without any surprise, as if I already knew, I gaze upon the lifeless white furry mass. A puddle of blood starts covering my fingers. A wave of sadness and regret hits my chest. I remember clearly, his name was Yeti. Suddenly a subtle voice is televised behind the closed cellar door: “It was the boogeyman…”.
I had found him roaming around in our backyard. He was still tiny and dirty and completely lost and scared. I remember taking him in a shoe box which became his house under my bed for a couple of months. I always thought he was more of a friend to me than a pet. A small town doesn’t give a lot of options to a young boy and I also never was especially social. So when he entered my life he gave a new perspective to my dull rural life. His soft white fur, his big feet and the fact that I was obsessed with imaginary creatures and folklore legends was the reason why I named him Yeti. I remember Ivan Sanderson’s book being my favourite read back then…
He was always a good excuse to disappear and hide in my room to avoid the constant fights in the living room. It was loud and sometimes scary. When the fights started getting violent I had my furry friend to calm me down. Every time the bangs and screams started I was hoping for the day they would both vanish from my life forever. Until one day one of them did.
I found my mother lying unconscious on the kitchen floor. She was surrounded by glass shards so I sat down and waited for her to wake up from a distance. I was sitting there for hours with Yeti in my arms. I remember being stressed but calm. I didn’t really care for both of them, I just needed some peace of mind.
It was already dark when my mother woke up. She hugged me with tears running down her cheeks reassuring me that he is never coming back again. And so it was. I remember the next year being the most peaceful time of my life. But again, it only lasted a year. And then the real nightmare began.
At first he was very kind and funny. He was bringing me gifts and telling me jokes, even the grown up ones, the ones no child knew at that age. All this changed overnight when he moved in our house. He was telling me I should stay and have fun in the playroom, down in the basement. Mom had been working a lot and she wasn’t around and I didn’t really want to complain because they were happy with each other. Playroom time was getting longer every time. Until one day mom would drive to grandma, because she hadn’t been feeling well. It was around Halloween. I went to my “playroom” because he had some friends visiting. I was sitting there for hours together with Yeti until I fell asleep. And woke up again. And went back to sleep. Hours became days and months in my mind. I was feeling too tired and hungry and thirsty to even cry. I was exhausted and scared. Until one weird thought started echoing in my head. It was cruel but it made sense. I had read what the Yeti does to survive. And it was the only logical solution…