TURN BACK THE TIME, BABE. BOOK 5. GIVING IT ALL MY SOUL

I HAD THIS PERFECT DREAM II

ELIDETH POV

My son swang himself playfully between his father's legs, coming and going in a hammock under the lazy evening sun. And I was standing there but they didn't pay me any attention. I was only able to stare at that beauty without taking part of it. I didn't belong to them, I didn't exist.

His tanned peach colour skin glowed under the sun beautifully. His long dark eyelashes, so dark as the night, curved up languidly. His half open plump lips were so wonderful. Mercury 100%. He looked like Freddie so much that I had doubts I was involved in his conception but looking at him harder, I saw something just mine. Just the cowlick formed on the right spot of his forehead, making all his dark hair was ruled by that rebel area.

- Farrokh!

Freddie cried out that name that I've never heard him on his lips, just his father called him like this. He denied calling him as his adoptive name. I always thought it was such a wonderful name. Had we called our child Farrokh? Really? His father must be overjoyed because at last the name he had chosen to his only son would last.

The little nap or whatever they were doing, had finished. The little one jumped again like a deer along the glowing green grass, recently mowed. He seemed very energetic, joyful, full of life. He was like an electric power plant.

I wanted to hold that little body and pull it against me, not only to give me that joyful spirit. I was wandering along that garden as a kind of ghost that nobody sees or hears. I wanted to hold him also because I knew he was mine, I had carried him inside my womb for nine months and I had gritted my teeth to push him out into this world. And it was such an overwhelming feeling. It was the first time I faced to the maternity's mystery. Now I seemed to understand everything, now I knew what it meant loving a piece of yourself that you had made with all your love and it seemed to me the most real and painful sensation I had ever felt.

Wait a minute. Since when is Emily Brontë mother and wife? I mean, since when is Elideth Polley those kind of things? This shivering body which nobody took care of, aching to take care of someone else.

Farrokh didn't pay attention to his father and he tumbled when he stumbled in the course of his naughty runaway. My goodness, this boy was a bloody real live wire. Another bruise in his already bruised knees.

- Farrokh, sweety. Did you hurt?

The little one refrained his tears and shook his head rubbing his nose. He was already proud, very proud.

- Let me see, my love.

Farrokh stretched his tanned little leg with serious face and his tears at bay. Maybe not so proud to not let himself be healed by his father's kisses. Who wouldn't?

- You must be careful.

It was the third time I craved to fill that body with my bitings, bitings of a mother wildly in love. Feeling that tender skin that was part of my skin while I tickled him and his childish laughter lifted up my heavy load.

But suddenly all vanished. As it started to hang a thick fog over that beautiful garden. And I started to run trying to touch them, trying to hold what belonged to me. They were so mine that when they finally disappeared and were out of reach, Elideth Polley, the warrior, was ready to flourish a sword and settle accounts with her damn life.

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Elideth stayed stubbornly, as it couldn't be any other way, in this state the doctors call stable. That meant different things. For Freddie and everyone else was a ray of hope to cheat death and for me she was just a few steps of that death. Her heart beat powerfully, with energy but her brain was still a disjointed map of paths piled up one into another with no compass or cardinal point.