Sweet Dreams

Chapter 5: Darker Days

"I haven't seen my mother, since I can't remeber when. I don't know, when I'll see her again." Mickey's Dead plays throughout this narrow, dimly lit hallway ahead of me. The walls around me act like they're from a horror movie, the lighting, the wallpaper, the fine maple doors.

I see a light, brighter than the ones around me at the end. The hall seems to stretch for miles as I walk towards the illuminated area. I take big steps and the music becomes more faint but consistent as I continue, lengthening my stride. I just seem to be walking in place.

I feel my pace quicken, and I'm now sprinting toward the brightness. It's running too, the other direction. The music turns into screaming, intangibly contained. My ears ring at the loud exposure.

Suddenly the floor falls from under my feet. I'm trapped in a room, it looks familiar. It's a hospital room. A familiar woman lays on the centered bed, and I can see the crinky curls flow off the edge. It's her. My mother.

~

The hospitality of my dreams play a big role for how I wake up. Good, tolerable ones I wake up pretty normal. But nightmares, such as being ripped away from her or experiencing that day over again, messes with my anxiety. It causes it to overreact, and I wake up begging for air.

This mornings not too bad, but I still feel pinching in my chest. I smell something unusal. Bacon? Bacon.

I quickly get up and run down stairs, but cautious as I reach the bottom. Don't want to take chances. Father stands in the kitchen, hovering over the stove. My eyes blink rapidly. I can't believe them.

"Hey baby," Father greets with a warm smile. I furrow my eyebrows as I try to function what he just said. Baby?

"Good morning, sir." I nod, suppressing my smile. I can't remember the last time he has made me feel like his daughter. This feeling is amazing, and I take it all up. And stuff it into my heart for times when he doesn't care that I'm his.

"Hungry?"

"Yes, sir." I keep my voice small, low. I don't want to show how scared I am. This is odd, Father being a dad. He walks over to me with a plate. It has crispy bacon, and Sunnyside eggs, my favorite.

I say," Thank you."

He kisses my forehead, which makes me wonder.... why is Father being like this?

We sit and eat, and it's not even that bad. I forgot what Father's cooking tastes like. It's been too long for me to remember, he typically has me cook whenever he wants it.

"How did you sleep?" He asks.

"Alright I guess," I mumble. I don't want him to switch up from me responding or saying something he doesn't want to hear.

He smiles and I can feel he's trying. Trying too much, but all I want him to do is be my dad and he's on a roll.

"I'm off today because of, you know, last night." he looks down into his lap, and my heart falls to my feet. I know it's harder on him than on me. But I still can't even think about it, I try to keep my mind off of it because I know what will happen to me. I'll lose the little bit of sanity I have left.

I feel my hand on it's way to his shoulder and it's too late to stop it once it lands. He looks up and pulls away from the table. Fear strikes my core as he towers over me sitting. He extends his hand down and I flinch. When I open my eyes, he's still there, his hand near my shoulder.

"Come on, Chris." His voice is low, quiet. His hand shakes as it stays there a minute before I fit mine is his. He helps me up, and guides me to the door.

"It's alright kiddo," he says as he opens the passenger door. I climb in and he walks around to the other side. What is he doing? I ask myself. What is going on with him? He's acting strange all the sudden. He didn't act like this when his Pa died but then again he never talked much about him. I guess mothers are different because I lost myself for a while when I lost mine...

"Happy fifteenth birthday little girl." His smile is calm. Accepting. I give an introvert laugh, I forgot what today is. I thought he would have too. This is the least of what I anticipated.

"Where do you want to go?" I feel astonishment crawl up my throat. Seep into my soul. I look into the rear view mirror and close my eyes. "The beach."

I open them to the start of our engine. It plays a faint song as we back out of the driveway. Self Talk by The Denzels whirrls around my head as the slippery air slides across my cheeks at seventy miles an hour. It's so relaxing, knowing Father isn't drunk already. But I don't make any promises to myself. Anything can happen, especially through him.

The afternoon sun drains my miserable thoughts and emotions about last night. I absorb the rays past my skin and let it scorch into my blood. It feels like paradise, I can't even recall the last time I felt this much freedom from under Father's ridicule wrath.

"Ice cream?" Father offers as we walk across the shore. I agree, and we walk toward the kid infested area. The Wheels on The Bus slowly quiets down as we approach the colorful van. I hum the song to myself as I scan the menu. I look up to Father, " Big Dipper," Mother's favorite. He smiles down at me and hands over the money as the he gives me the cone.

I turn and as I start on it, walking foward, gazing at the sun set. It's so beautiful. I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder and I look up. Father is standing next to me with the same kind. He knows what's best, Mother showed him and he's been in love since. I've been in love since.

"It's amazing." His voice is calm like the crashing waves that kiss my toes. My feet tingle at the chill running through my body. It's been too long since I've felt this way.

"Are you alright? You've been quiet kiddo," Father looks down at me as he crunches into his cone. I look up and feel tears smudge my vision. "I'm fine pa, I'm alright." My fear has slowly settled. He has no clue.

I walk forward and Father follows. We sit in shallow water and Father splashes me. I splash back, starting a war. No body gives up until the others completely drenched, and Father suddenly whispers, " You're just like your Mother." I smile and fall into his chest, and he wraps his arms around me. "I've missed this, " I cry out. "Me too Chris, I've missed this too. "