Water Horse

I dreamt of a lake. Deep and dark, it made me nervous to stand openly on the shore. I wondered why I was here when the water burst into the air and the Kelpie emerged foaming at the mouth and black as the night. In the form of the Ech Uisque and it rode the water to the shore and stood in front of me as if waiting for something. I wasn't afraid as I climbed on its back and I didn't resist as it plunged back into the pool but clamped my feet to its sides and grabbed a handful of mane. The Kelpie swam hard and in the murky water I could make out the faces of a generation of the drowned, all reaching for me and pulling at my clothes.
Lifetimes of anger and fear lived here and died here and willing or unwilling they all clamored for the shore to exhaust themselves on the beach. On the back of the nightmare I lost my grip and slid into the depths and came to rest in the mud on the bottom of the lake and from there I looked to the sky, wavering and bright.
I could have awakened myself then, but I don't want to remember this night. I'll sleep until the water clears and I can see the sun, clear and inviting and then I'll swim, Kelpie or no, and pull myself onto the shore.