Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Oh, when you think about it Do you remember me?"
Do You Remember ~ Jarryd James
A warm glow tickled the outside of Johanna's eyelids, beckoning her to wake up. The sudden aroma of almond extract, fruit, and cooked pie crust seeped into her nostrils; and Johanna's stomach began to growl.
Debating on which of her two favorite things mattered to her the most at the very moment —food or sleep— Johanna snuggled up into a tighter ball and willingly chose the latter."Just five more minutes," she whispered, desperately trying to ignore the occasional high pitched voices and obnoxious laughter that came from the tv.
"Suit yourself," a snarky voice snickered. "More dessert for me."
Recognizing that boyish voice from her youth —although completely disoriented— Johanna shot up, from what seemed to be the couch; instantly regretting the sudden movement as she rubbed her face to wipe away the blur and the dizziness.
Ready for round two, focusing once again —covered in the baby blue quilt her mother had made when she was a child— Johanna quickly realized she was in her old apartment; the one both her and her mother had lived in with Malakai... before he disappeared.
Slowly surveying the tiny place —the armoire that housed the many cookbooks her mother liked to collect, and cherished with all her heart; the wooden shelf which carried favored movies, books, and board games, always ready for those special rainy days which were never deemed 'boring'; and the walls covered with a never ending display of pictures, showing all three Riveras, beaming with their pristine white teeth, telling many happy, funny, and adventurous stories— and after what seemed like the most perfect eternity, deliciously reminiscing, Johanna's head darted towards the tanned, little boy who was laying on his stomach; watching Cartoon Network. And God, he still looked the same —young, healthy, and happy.
Narrowing her eyes, leaning forward, Johanna looked a little closer at her younger cousin... his identical chocolate, brown hair —both wavy and curly— slightly disheveled, his youthful face —still retaining some baby fat— smiling at the screen, and his little body —wrapped in his favorite cowboy pajamas— sprawled under the mini pillow fort he had built. Gritting her teeth, this alone gave Johanna an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. A feeling that shouted the worst three words anyone could ever hear...
It's.
Not.
Real.
Completely and utterly disheartening —wanting to forget the reality that, most times, physically hurt Johanna— it was all too simple. The hundreds of quotes about "truth hurting", was, in fact, true. And as much as Johanna hated to admit it, whatever this was —whatever dream she was trapped in— was indeed... a fantasy. Malakai looked like he was about seven or eight here. Which was completely wrong, because now, he would be turning eighteen next month; a week after Johanna would turn twenty-one.
Shaking her head —letting out a labored breath— Johanna then saw her. Her best friend. Her mother... in the kitchen, dancing to the Latin music Johanna grew up listening to. Drying up a wet mixing bowl and a rolling pin, Johanna's mother was probably making her delicious blackberry pie she had always baked Johanna and Malakai; most times on a special occasion.
And a special occasion this was.
Hoisting herself off of the couch —her legs slightly wobbling, and her feet tingling as it touched the cool, wooden floor— Johanna didn't miss the opportunity to kiss Malakai's warm cheek, before she made her way over; leaning against the counter near the fridge. All she wanted to do now, after three long years, was hug her mom. And this time, never let her go.
Her mother's dark curls swayed over her back, as her curvy body moved to the beat of the trumpets and the bongos. Mesmerized by her thick locks, Johanna slowly reached out, wanting to feel just how soft her mother's hair always used to be... until her mother abruptly turned around, smiling; like a child —playful and innocent. Like her mother's loud laughter —which was often contagious— Johanna couldn't help but smile back; tears filing her eyes.
God, this has to be heaven, Johanna thought.
After what had happened —flashes of the car accident, Orion shoving her to the ground, choking her, and somehow Johanna blowing up— she had to be dead. Because only darkness was memorable after that.
As if Johanna's mother could feel her pain, her anxiety, she frowned.
"What's wrong?" Johanna asked.
Biting her lip, her mother looked away. "As much as I hate saying it... you can't stay here forever, y'know. You have to go back."
Go back? Go back? What was her mother thinking? Now, more than ever, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to go back to.
Taken aback, Johanna snorted, shaking her head. Repeating her mother's words like a broken record —as if each word sucker punched her to the gut— Johanna gripped her stomach and winced. Did her mother actually not want her with them? Was that it?
"But... I don't want to go. I want to stay here. With you and Mal."
Her mother caressed Johanna's cheek, wiping away a tear that Johanna didn't even realize escaped.
"Monkey—" just hearing her childhood nickname made Johanna want to curl up and cry. "—it's not your time. You still have so much more you need to accomplish."
Need to accomplish? What is that supposed to mean? What kind of dream was this?
Johanna stepped closer, now gripping her mother's shoulder. "Ma... what are you talking about? You're not making any sen—"
"Hey," her mother interrupted firmly, ignoring Johanna's question."Like I told you, it's just not your time. You'll see me again... one day. And I'll still be here, waiting for you. But..." she paused, "you need to trust me."
"'Trust you?'" Johanna repeated. "How can I trust you if I don't understand you?"
Her mother sighed. "Right now, you just won't understand. But you still need to go back. To him. He needs you."
"Who needs me, Ma? Malakai?" As if they were twins with a powerful connection, Johanna somehow knew Malakai was alive. She could feel it. But other than that, there wasn't another "he" her mother could possibly be talking about.
"Your mate needs you," her mother clarified softly.
"My what?" Johanna shook her head, absolutely bewildered.
"He needs you."
"But, Ma! Who are you—"
Suddenly, her mother was beginning to fade, along with the rest of the surroundings —the apartment now looking like an endless, empty room without walls. Malakai was nowhere to be found, the pillow fort empty and the tv turned off; leaving Johanna —standing in what used to be the kitchen— once again... alone.
Fear gripped Johanna by the neck, its talons razor sharp, digging into her skin; making Johanna forget the most simplest thing: how to breathe. Overcome by lightheadedness, Johanna collapsed, the side of her head crashing onto the hard, tiled floor; sending shots of lightning pain all throughout her brain. Her vision hazy, as if underwater, all Johanna could hear —besides the thunderous beats of her heart— were the last of her mother's soothing whispers, like a calm mantra.
