Away From Prying Eyes

Chapter 6 (part 1)

13 yr. old - PRAN

I told them.
I finally mustered up enough courage.
I was so excited and it was a complete disaster.

I carefully walked down the hallway and paused by the kitchen opening, peeked inside, and saw that mom was standing alone by the sink washing the dishes from breakfast. I observed her appearance to determine her mood. She looked the same as always. Her hair was placed in a neat ponytail, clothes ironed to perfection, her makeup meticulously done. She was beautiful, and cold, and distant, and –

Nope I can't do this. I can't tell her alone. Where is dad?

I quietly turned around so that I did not catch her attention. I retraced my steps, turned the corner, and there he was walking towards me with a blank look on his face.

While mom did not care to hide her blatant disgust at having a "the worst son ever" (her exact words), dad at least tried to hide his dissatisfaction in a lame attempt to protect my feelings. The contrast between how they each interacted with me was drastic. mom absolutely refused to be alone with me and talk to me unless it was absolutely necessary. Her reason, I bring nothing but trouble to them and she never wanted me to have me (again her exact words). Telling dad 'He's your son you deal with him'. dad on the other hand, tried to spare my feelings by limiting the interactions I had with her. He did the bare minimum as a father to make sure that I was fed and went to school. That was it. In short, she didn't care at all and he didn't care enough.

I shook my head to stop me from going down that rabbit hole again. If I thought too long and hard I would lose the courage that I had spent the past three days building up.

"dad, can we talk? I have something to tell you." I asked hesitantly.

One would expect their parents to respond in a loving way. Eager to create a space so that their kids can unload. However, he responded in a way that I should have expected. His body stiffened and his eyes widened as if he were afraid of what I would say next. As if he was afraid of me.

I reached out my hand absentmindedly to reassure him that it wasn't anything bad and almost touched his sleeve. He jerked his arm back in fear mixed with a tinge of disgust and glared at me. I watched as his blank mask slipped and he frowned then took a few step backs creating more distance between us.

Did his reaction hurt? Yes, but I'm used to it.

"Sorry. I wasn't going to touch you." I mumbled dropping my gaze to the floor. I stared at the tips of my toes hoping that the tears that started to form would not fall.

If I cry, that will make him upset.

If he gets upset, then mom will hear.

If she hears then –

"What is it?" The tone of his voice made me jerk my head up to look at him again. I could tell that he was starting to get irritated with me.

"Um –" All of the courage I mustered up disappeared. I was wrong. Maybe now is not a good time to tell him.

"Just spit it out already." He said to me impatiently. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through it.

"Um, I have been dreaming lately." I didn't include the part about who I was dreaming about. I needed to see how he would respond to the dreams.

At first, he brushed me off, briefly glancing up from his phone with no expression as if to say, 'so why are you telling me.'

Then I told him the next part. How I can remember the dreams or rather how I can remember all of the feelings and sensations from the dreams. That the dreams were a continuation of the previous night. That they were lucid dreams. I spent weeks researching and found out that that is what was happening to me.