Why Do I Wake up at 3 Am?
I have been waking up a lot at 3 am lately to the same dream.
“I am in an exquisite grand hotel in one of those sin cities like Paris or Prague. The hotel is settling down to its routine of late-night rest and raves. I am wrapping up my work with my colleagues who seem exhausted and ready for bed. Unlike them, I am quite wired and wide awake. Hungry and seeking excitement from the dark.
I walk towards the lift and the door opens and an old man dressed immaculately in white walks out with his white labrador. He has a pencil-thin mustache that matches the color of his tuxedo. He smiles and nods at me like we have met several times before. At that instant, I have a strange sensation that I live in this hotel and not just visiting it. I notice that there is a man in the lift who is the lift operator. He smiles and pressed the number 10 on the board. But instead of the lift moving up, it moves sideways. Like a sky train. I am now traveling from one side of the hotel to another…
I get off the elevator into another giant reception hall. Gilded and cold. Black marble floors and white satin curtains that are at least 20 feet tall. They sway in the wind coming in from an open window. The night is lit up by a full moon.
I reach a door that is slightly ajar. Inside I can see the naked outline of a woman who is walking into the shower. I enter. I hear the water running. She is humming a song I know but can’t remember the words. On the bed are the jeans that she has just removed. They feel warm to touch. I can smell the perfume of her body that had just been in them. I am slightly aroused.
The window is open and the balcony outside is awash with the light of the full moon. It is so bright that I can see my shadow. The neon sign of the hotel is a bit faulty and one of the letters of the name keeps flickering. The letter e is blinking on and off.
I step back into the room and turn around to still hear the sound of the bathing woman in the shower. I have been in this room before. My bag is lying open in the corner, next to hers. My wallet is also on the table. Yet I have no memory of knowing who this woman is. On the bed is a note- `Join me.’
I walk towards the bathroom.
The room is misted by the heat of the water. She is unaware that I have entered. I can see her outline from behind the shower curtains. She is a tall woman. She has long dark hair and a sweet husky voice. French. She’s french.
I start to undress but I notice that my shirt is stained. I look in the mirror and notice that the shirt is soaked in blood. I am bleeding from my neck. Like a hole has opened up and blood gushes out like a little fountain. I am shocked at the lack of any pain. In fact, I am amused. I look towards the woman and notice that she is not in the shower anymore. The water is still running…”
Then I wake up.
I have had this dream over 7 times in the last month. The dream varies a bit but the one thing that always remains consistent is the faulty neon sign of the hotel that I can see from the balcony. The`e’ in the name is always blinking. The name of the hotel was Cevil or Cecil.
Instead of analyzing my dream, I decided to search for this hotel to see what came up.
That is when I found the story of Jack Unterweger, the Austrian serial killer who was one of the many serial killers who had lived and killed one of his victims in this hotel. This hotel is in fact in Los Angeles and labeled as ` the place where serial killers stay’ has a long and violent history of rape, killing, and suicides that go far back as 1927 and as recent as 2013.
The dreams have stopped since I read about Cecil.
But occasionally I still wake up at 3 am to the sound of a woman in a shower humming a french song I can’t remember the words of.