Realm of Dreams

By Paula Glynn

Birth and death: we are all born and we all die. For most, this is just the way it is. But for Sahara Clemont, she is going to discover a new world of dreams. There will be no angels knocking on her door: she will be going to the scariest place of all. Hell. But this is not the hell of heat you expect: it is a hell of many people. Some are being thrown from trains. Others are talking to the devil, while diamonds fall from the skin of bears. There are many tales to tell here. But this is Sahara’s hell. But is it really hell? For this is a story about rebirth through a realm of dreams. Sahara is not alone: she shall come across many. But be warned: this is not a tale of the weak hearted.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9781447772767

Book preview

Paula Glynn

2023

PART ONE

Chapter One

      A cool breeze blew through the open window as I thought about my recent journey. I had travelled many thousands of years to return to a time so all hatred would be lost. It was a hard journey, a journey from the return of a box. I had to give it back to save myself from hell. But this wasn’t a box that you could hold; it was a box you had to touch to open. I held this box and moved my hand. It flashed open like a bulb just off the brink of darkness. I held it to my lips and listened. Then it hit; a chain was whipped against my face, then another, then another. It whipped and whipped until I had no face to show.

      I turned off the T.V. Horror never was my forte. It blew me away like the wind through the tops of the forest trees. How I had loved then. My memory of the horror film was to be lost to me – for a short while. I lived and lived and spent very hour of everyday unaware of the red flowing through my veins. I could touch everything, feel what I was touching, want what I was touching, but I didn’t know until I opened the box and leant down. I felt the pain then – the pain unlike any other. I was in hell. It hurt as if I was the film. Then I wondered where the pain had gone. I looked up only to see blackness. The door… I saw again and remembered. I had swung it shut as I had thought about my life. I was shown how to do it

like I was shown to eat fibre. It just didn’t stop, I knew. I was born again. I wasn’t Sahara Clemont again but myself. I couldn’t touch but I knew she was there, listening to the sounds of the pain she was to feel. She didn’t like it but I did. I could hear her every move as she lay there, innocent.

    I told her of all I knew through her books and poetry. She loved it! As all little girls do. But she didn’t know this. She didn’t know of the pain she would be put through. Her parents did it. That’s what they all said at the funeral. My friends told me as if I were there.

I had cried. Then I cried. Then I cried. It took two days, but I did it. I took. I knew I was on my own but didn’t want to be. It was as if everyone was watching me hurt. My husband helped – he made me opened my eyes the old Sahara would have said, and I knew better. They didn’t really watch me though – I was only watching myself. Was it hard, I wondered, to be a man? Then I looked and knew the answer; – it was – for me. God was right, I thought. Then I turned into a joker and knew I had to tell her – there was no love; only money. I hadn’t realised that back then… but now I did, and boy, did I suffer for it. I was, basically, treated like shit. They spat on me, danced around me and shit all over my nice new skirt. I was a proud laughing clown – but it wasn’t me that was laughing. And that’s why the devil came for me. He knew I was in great pain so he told me a way to deal with it. "Chicken." It said and had me laugh my pretty head like a chicken. But it was no ordinary chicken but a human chicken. It was a funny story. Shame it never made the headlines. I didn’t mind though; I knew it was all a laugh. But that was then… I was taken out of the bath, with the threat of further abuse. No-one talked to me. I felt better, then I died on a door. They told me I had no choice. Then I was brought back from the grave. I had to explain everything I had known or thought I’d known. I realised I had known nothing. I am still there now, waiting to finish as Sahara and start a new life. Her name won’t be Sahara Clemont but he. He’s waiting for me on the other side of the universe to transport me to where I belong. I can be in both places at once without a price. That’s why I must be here with Sahara - my former self - to help guide her to safety. She doesn’t deserve hell but she is in it, reaping the reward of a life she had lived to death. She regrets it now; her telling leading to her death. She wanted love but didn’t know how to ask for it without getting angry or crying. I am there now, with her crying. It never ends; she cries and cries and cries all for a reason I could never write for her now. It can only be known at the end when the pain is over and when there is no more suffering. She will live in her death with a hatred of a man she named Joshua. But no-one must know her hatred. She will wish him dead as she dies on the door. But back to Satan. I met him. Oh, did he love me. He made me hold a battle-axe and half someone’s – a once someone – head in two. Then he made me crucify Joshua. He’s there now, feeling my pain as the words cut into me like a razor through skin. How I had loved shaving. But he must never know that until he realises he loves me. But it will be too late then.

  Hell was something I could not see but only feel with all its rage. I knew I had been tricked by those on the earth I had adored before dying my brutal death – but long before the door visited me. I am home now with god, remembering the rage and know I must use it to protect others. They are not best pleased when tricked as I had been. I sent them Satan as a gift and now they hurt me. I haven’t got my tenses wrong. I am with god, in hell, and on earth as Sahara and the boy all at once, but no-one can see me because I am not there. Not even as a ghost. But I am one: to their memories. I did use Satan to put a voice on a tape but Satan didn’t know that so I erased him. I cannot tell the message for it’s a hidden secret of light: a light that could pull a nurse into a wall if it wanted. But I am not that light because it is the dark light: but not Satan’s light. No light on earth is red. The lights are all combined; there is no difference between colours when seen on the inside. All colours merge and obtain to shed its light on mother earth. I send that light to Sahara and show her the way in dreams. She is still crying but I cannot see her or feel her but I know she loves me as far away in the sky as I am. I have always been there, but no-one knew, I even saw a girl in the river as I blessed my disciples, but Sahara loves me. I gave sound to Sahara, eyes to Sahara but she did not have sight. I must save her by giving her sight. She is my friend, the one friend in the world I have always loved. She is crying as she thinks of men. But Sahara is not there because she knows she is remembering on the other side. She had planned to hurt me… she waited and waited, then cried when she heard the news.

Chapter Two