Dear Mister Sandman

Chapter 27

Three hours after the two ate, the doors to the bedroom opened again. Charlie had just finished getting dressed after her long bath. She was sitting on the couch, looking through the channels of the TV that hung on the wall across the couch.

"Oh sorry, am I too loud?" Her thumb grazed the volume button down once she saw Morpheus come outside with a yawn. He shook his head and went to open his suitcase.
"No, I just want to sleep in a more comfortable set of clothing." He took out a pair of grey sweat pants and a black nike pullover. Once he straightened his back again, he glanced at Miss Denver shortly. She was looking back at him with a small smile. His lips twitched, but without another word, Morpheus left to go into the bedroom again.

Once he reached the bed, a sigh escaped him. One of confusion and exhaustion. Morpheus had been trying to have a proper nap, but his dreams would always wake him up. They weren't bad dreams, no nightmares. They just confused the heck out of him, since they felt so real. And as the Uvalion for sleep, he knew what that meant. He feared his dreams weren't just dreams, but rather old memories.

They were about a woman he had known too well. Despite her not being in his life for too long, he knew her. Every single wrinkle in her face, every single freckle on her nose. Her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. He had stared at her for most of his life, often in sadness. Therefore, he had tried to never let himself think about her before going to sleep. But how was he supposed to do that when he knew he had a life with her before he had this life? When he knew their life had started right here in Ailavu. They were in a city near Silverthorne, but still. He was close enough to his home town.

And despite not remembering her at all, since his father had erased Morpheus' memory the day after she had died, his subconscious did. And that was more than confusing. The human mind was incredible, Morpheus thought as he closed his eyes.

For some reason, even though it creeped him out, his dreams made him sort of happy. He felt as if many questions about his mother had been answered in his dreams.

She was a beautiful, constantly caring person. His dream now was about her cooking in the kitchen. He looked up at her, probably in his first few years of life, judging by his height. His mother had her back turned towards him as she was stirring a steaming pot on the stove. She hummed a now familiar sounding tone, which was music in his ears. In his dream, he heard himself giggle- a childish and happy one, before running towards his mother. She turned around just in time to catch his vicious attack.

Her hands were under his armpits as she picked him up to let him look inside the pot. He felt and heard his mother smooch his face, making the now sleeping Morpheus smile. Whatever his old self was saying in his dream, it was inaudible. It was too far away for him to hear everything. But it didn't matter, he was happy anyway.

There were only two words he always heard. One of them came from him. At the end of every dream, which always made him wake up, his old self said the word 'mommy'. It was really loud and startled him. It sounded as if someone was whispering right into his ear. It made him shudder and immediately open his eyes.

And the second word was something he had never heard anyone say. Except for Miss Denver when she opened his passport. Nathaniel. His mother seemed to have called him Nathaniel back then. Knowing that, Morpheus felt a certain warmth whenever he thought back to Miss Denver saying it. She didn't know it, but that was when his mind suddenly went back. It was very short and practically impossible to make out if he hadn't seen that picture before. But he saw a flash of his smiling mother. A copy of what sat on his desk back in New Habbershire.

"Ugh." Morpheus opened his eyes again when the dream was over. He looked at his wrist watch that sat on top of the nightstand next to him. 6 PM. He had slept for almost six hours and decided that was enough. Maybe forcing himself to fall asleep another time, was stupid. He had to accept that for now, he would have to deal with five hours of sleep.