Turbulent Ties

5-The Park

"Better terrible truths than kind lies."
-Leigh Bardugo

~~~~

New

"Mom! Drive faster!"

"No, honey. It's too late for that. C'mon! Don't be sad. We'll go again tomorrow."

"Pinky promise?"

"Yes, pinky promise."

Rain lashed against the windshield of our navy blue car, as mom drove down a deserted, one lane highway. I peered through the front window trying to see what was ahead of me; it was pitch black outside, with not even one star in the night sky, and only the moon's faint light and the small square orange lights lining the road to see by.

"How far is home?"

"Not too far away, Newwie."

"But Newwie is tired now! Go home faster! Faster!"

"Good boys don't complain all the time. Who's a good boy now?"

"Me! Newwie is a good boy!"

Outside the front window, the rain was coming down in torrents, blurring my vision even more. The windshield wipers whipped back and forth over the window, attempting to clear away the large droplets clinging to the glass - but it seemed they weren't moving fast enough. Looking out my side window, I noticed the trees walled me in on both sides.

Two blinding lights suddenly blazed ahead like two shining eyes trying to pierce the impenetrable darkness-

"Mom!!"

I awoke abruptly, my eyes moist with tears. My chest pounded, and perspiration drenched my body.

It was another nightmare. I sighed heavily, knowing I could never escape its clutches. The details of that night are forever etched in my mind, solely due to these haunting dreams. These recurring nightmares have haunted me for as long as I can remember.

It always stops at the same scene. Nothing new. I cannot recall what happened beyond that specific scene. Was it my fault? What actually happened to Mom?

Emptiness consumed me once more. The hood crumpling, the glass shattering, the screeching of tires echoing in my ears. The lingering pain from the impact.

I groaned, clutching at my hair and pulling. The memories of my mother were slipping away, fading with each passing day. Her voice, a distant whisper in my mind. Yet, fragments of her essence remain deeply imprinted within me, never truly released. I could never let her go.

A knock at the door disrupted my thoughts. Though I chose to remain silent, I recognized P'Mook's voice.

"It's me! Please open the door, Newwie," P'Mook called out.

I hurriedly composed myself, straightened my nightdress, and welcomed her inside.

"Good morning, Newwie," P'Mook greeted, carrying a tray with food and coffee. "I've prepared breakfast in bed for you."

Offering her a quiet smile, I continued to keep my emotions to myself.

P'Mook carefully placed the tray on the table near the window. Casting a glance in my direction, she raised an eyebrow. "Hmm? What's wrong? Is it that dream again? You can't be brooding in the morning all the time, New. You must find a way to move on."

Politely, I replied, "Good morning, P'Mook." I didn't want her to dwell on the subject any longer. The ordeal had already left a deep impact on me.

"Alright then, I won't bring it up. But remember, Newwie, sometimes you need someone to confide in. Someone who will not only support you but also comprehend your situation. To achieve that, you must express yourself. You can depend on me, Newwie. You're my little brother, I will never let you go through this hell."