Napowrimo prompt 4 The Sinister Hold

The sinister Hold
Yesterday night I had a bizarre dream.
 I saw myself vaulting over the glass- spiked wall
of the school church courtyard, glimpsing a face
peeping through the vestry window,
with a look of intense disapproval.
All the nuns standing upright, jaws tight,
wagging admonitory fingers as I sneaked inside.

 
Even that nun [I forget her name,
her only claim to fame being that she perpetually smiled.
[The Smiling Nun].
 Suddenly she grew a huge tusk,
which seemed to grow on and on,
and then that tusk pulled me into its fold.
 I writhed and screamed, and the tusk quivered,
and I slipped out of its sinister hold.
Phew!  

Hush, what was that?

Someone playing Chopin’s Funeral March
on an old organ standing against the wall,
 when I tripped and had a fall, so ignominious.

I shuddered, as I saw something weird. 
The toe of the corpse wiggled, as I tried to scramble up,
almost singed under the fire erupting from the eyes of the nuns.
 Soon saw myself becoming the chief mourner,
 presiding over the demise of my dreams,
whittling down bit by bit …
dust to dust.
 I got up, covered in sweat, [phew!]
The nightmare over, or was it?