The Bumper Book Of Dreams
The Night I Killed My Father
This is a recurring nightmare I used to have when I was
about 4 or 5 and I think it's really relevent to my life
now. And no, I haven't killed my father if hats what you're
thinking. Obviously this was over 10 years ago so I don't
remember the particulars but that's not really important.
So I'm a little girl in the kitchen. it's this big medievil
style kitchen by the way. My mum's there too. She's
chopping carrots as you do and the oven is on. My dad comes
in and for some insane reason I stuff him in the oven. I
never meant to hurt him ( I think ). I couldn't open the
oven door and I couldn't switch it off. AGHHHH. Panic My
dad is being cooked alive and it's all my fault. I start
yelling at my mum, who is right next to me to help. But she
ignores me and carries on chopping like nothings happened.
I'm crying and screaming and thats basically where it ends.
Obviously killing ones father is a very disturbing thing to
do in a dream and has in a strange way scarred me for life
because I blame myself for everything bad thats happened to
Heres a bit of family history for u. I'm from Nigeria.
Moved here with my mum and brothers when I was 3. The
stupid British passport people wouldn't let my father come
so it's their fault our family was seperated. So for the
next 7 years he came to see us sometimes. Not very often
might I add, so it's understandable that our family grew
apart. There was us kids and my mum on one side and him on
the other. But then in 96' they changed the law so that a
spouse could live in England on their other halfs passport.
So my dad came. A bit too late. How do u make up for 7
years of absense. You can't. It all went horribly downhill
and my mother had him institutionalised for paranoia I
guess ( Was too scared to ask ). There were police and
ambulances outside our door. I'll never forget that day or
the day after when I lied to my neighbours that I hadn't
been there and didn't know what was going on. It's kinda
embarrassing to say my dads a loon. He came home the same
day my mum bought a new car. I am so horrendously ashamed
to say that I payed more attention to the car than too him.
I didn't know what to say or do. I was 10. It was really
hard to pretend nothing had happened, but we did. Then one
day he said he was going back to Nigeria to visit his
parents. I sat on the stairs in the small hours of the
morning to say goodbye. It should have been a seeya later
but when he returned to England he was sent back at the
airport because my mum didn't want him here on her
passport. So it was goodbye.
This is why I think that dream is relevent. I feel really
bad for the way I acted back then. I feel bad that I always
stuck by my mum when they thought just because I didn't
know him. I feel bad for being ashamed of him when we went
out. I feel bad for not caring enough when he was sick. I
feel bad for that year of my life that has permanently
scarred me. I hated him for so long after that. Because he
hurt me in so many ways. But I've grown up a bitand realise
none of it is his fault. he was just a victim of
circumstances. So this summer I'm going to Nigeria to make
peace with my dad and myself. Less than two weeks to go.