disclaimer: no, unfortunately, I am not dream's mother and do not know anything about him, so sorry to have to paraphrase the events, dear friends. please do not use this as a guide for your 2020 history exam, I will not be responsible for a generation failing social studies💖
YOU ARE: dream's mother😔
looking at the brick walls and breathing heavily, tears stream down your face as the doctor hands you your "healthy and beautiful" baby boy. you hold him, calming his screaming as you hug him, so proud to bring such a strong human being into this awful world. smiling, you offer every drop of love and attention to your son as he shuts up, leaving the room in peaceful silence as the nurse picks up the apple sauce you non chalantly smacked out of her hand, your smile growing as she glares at you and threatens to kick you out.
you calmly get out of bed and throw her into the bathroom, locking the door behind you softly as you walk back over to your baby boy. in a minute, a doctor rushes into the room behind the child's father, yelling at you for assaulting the poor old woman. you slap the doctor and smile again, bigger and brighter than before since you gained energy from the nurse. you whisper into the air, catching silent stares and tear-brimmed eyes as the words flow into their ears, making gasps flow out of their mouths.
"clay," you whispered into the non-existent breeze blowing your non-existent edges, "his n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n---n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n--------" you grab your inhaler off the nightstand, suddenly frightened by nothing. "his nAmE.....is clay."
as soon as the words left your mouth, the doctor ran at you with a scalpel, almost attacking you before you quickly moved out the way, because you're always finessing these fools. the father SCREAMED, running out of the room to call for help. As your smile grew bigger, you threw a table across the room and sighed, loving the new open look. The police rushed in, punching you 4 times in the face before they take your baby and cry into him, disgusted by your lack of mercy.
you wheeze as you sign the legal name papers, feeling a rush move up your spine as you dodge chairs and baby towelettes, finishing what needed to be done. as you look out of a broken window at the beautiful lake down below, you take in the scenery, enjoying your vacation.
as they take you away, you hear a reporter yell at you aggressively, "GOODBYE SISTER CELLMATE!" you laugh and spit at her, hoping your view in jail will come close to the lovely landscaping you stand on. waving to your baby, you hope one day you'll meet again.
and that day, you'll call him brick.
p.s: no, I don't watch dream, I just came up with this when pondering if i hate hate or if i hate everything, or if i just hate hate and everything that's hated
YOU ARE READING
the name chronicles...
Randomfriends, we gather here today to read about the origin story of popular content creator's names. of course, this is just what I've gathered from my intense Wikipedia research and private investigator's findings. although this is top secret informati...
