The Other Side PART 1

SCENE 2

My dreams have always been quite realistic and vivid. I always had the sensation that I was in that dream. They're always so intense and... real! I'm certain it's true! It felt so real that I swore I was there! That's what I tell myself every morning when I wake up. Some people may think I'm crazy, but I understand what I've been through and how I felt. I had the impression in my dreams that I could manipulate my body as if I were playing a video game.

I told my Aunt Visha about these dreams, but she merely dismisses them as fiction. As she pulls her deep ruby red wool trench coat from the coat peg beside the living room door, she mutters, "Oh Sunniva, why don't you understand? Don't cha' think you might be confused?" Her trench coat hangs loosely behind her as she slings it over her shoulders.

Aunt Visha has always treated me differently from others, making me feel as if I'm an outsider. I know I am not the same as everyone due to the backhanded bullying I have dealt with living with my aunt. She always refers to me to my mother and how strange she was. Aunt Visha would tell me stories of how when they were children mother would allegedly have these dreams as well. She would tell Nana about the dreams and of course she brushed her off. "You are allowing your imagination to get a whole of you dear. Your dreams mean nothing" Nana would say. I am sure mother felt foolish and as if she was a lunatic; I feel the same way. I've always wondered how mothers are doing these days. She left suddenly when I was just a small girl; four to be exact.

Sadly, because of how quickly she left, my recollections of her are fading. Everything was so sudden and just- "Sunniva! Girl, I know you hear me. Oh my God, you remind me so much of your mother. You experience "strange" dreams and have the ability to feel and see things. What comes next—you're a superhero? "Before leaving, Aunt Visha was caught packing up her possessions. She crosses her arms and taps her right foot while staring at me with hatred in her light brown eyes, fixing her lips (which had red lipstick smudged on the side of them). The tapings showed annoyance and grew louder as her rage intensified. I was still waiting for her to depart as I stood in the hallway, exhausted.

Clarice is Aunt Visha's daughter. Clarice is only a few months older than me. Of course, she is nicer and more understanding than her mother. Aunt Visha shook her head incredulously. She gestured for me to approach her as she took her work bag off the coffee table in the living room.

Because I was so lost, I just stood there. I didn't embrace back or do anything else. I just passed by. I was relieved that the tension in the room subsided but perplexed as to why she never trusted mother or me. Thankfully, Aunt Visha stopped hugging me and rubbed the back of my head. She finished her pity and headed out the door for work.

Aunt Visha always has her fake apology moments when she belittles me to the core. Sometimes I wonder if she is a lunatic or just bipolar. I sluggishly walked back to my room, exhausted from the nonsense that had occurred, hoping that one day someone would understand me. 

Maybe I could contact my mother, but she seems to have vanished from the face of the earth. Nobody has seen her in over ten years. It appears that reaching her is nearly impossible. I need answers about what is going on with me, and it implies that my mother is the person who might have them. 

I've always wondered where she went or if she's hidden.

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