A Beautiful Nightmare

1

27.10.2009

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but it wouldn't budge. Meanwhile, we were speeding forward through narrow streets lined with cars. It was a wonder we didn't crash into them.

Soon enough, all signs of modern civilization began to disappear. Dimly lit streetlights became more widely dispersed across the streets, lending the town an eerie glow in the twilight. We began to wade through narrow uphill alleys lined with stone walls and ivy enshrouded houses. A few homes were decorated with glowing orange lanterns carved out from pumpkins. Whilst others opted for more showy displays of skeletons hanging from trees, and statues of pointy-nosed witches flying across gardens.

"You're so quiet. What's the matter?" Rayna's soft voice distracted me. Rayna was my mother. And my mother was failing to understand why this moment was utterly terrifying for me.

I shook my head and muttered, "Nothing." It sounded more moody out loud than it did in my head.

"I know this is a very difficult decision for you," Rayna continued.

"I didn't say anything," I sighed, throwing my head back against the seat, the air perfused with the unfamiliar scent of my mother's car. It was sweet and subtle unlike the heavy pine of my dad's Honda Fit.

"I know. I just want to talk. I know it feels like a glass-half-empty and my-life-is-ruined type of situation. But think of it this way. This is a new beginning. A new chance in a new place," she said, exhaling loudly. "Who knows? Maybe you'll love Woodward."

"Maybe," I mumbled, feigning a polite smile.

I knew my mother saw through it and I stiffened for a second, waiting for her to start on me but instead, she reached out and turned on the radio. "Sweet Dreams" by Beyonce was playing. I was overcome by a feeling of nausea. England was a long way from Portland and some reflex ingrained into my brain was still waiting for the car to appear out of the cramped streets into a wider road. I wanted to see buildings made of anything but stone. I wanted to go past my old school. I wanted to see the overhanging traffic signs high above the road. I wanted to see an autumn sun setting over the horizon as the indicator clicked and we turned into our driveway. I wanted to race on my bike from the waterfront to my house to watch MTV. I never thought I would miss such insignificant aspects of my life. I wanted to sit on my old couch under a stream of AC and watch the Beavers game with my dad. I never knew that it would all just disappear some day.

Despite my inner turmoil, the world around me had moved on and we reached the brow of a hill. I felt the pressure of the seatbelt against my chest now as the car shifted to move downhill. I could hardly breathe. Because stretched out in front of me were the glowing lights of a town nestled amongst icy blue mountains. It sat still against a backdrop of dark blue fading into a sharp line of orange as the last of the sunlight dispersed across the slanted rooftops. The sunlight bled into the tops of trees, scattering hues of burgundy, brown and auburn across the landscape. Further from the centre, the trees grew larger, wilder and the forest became denser and darker. I could just about make out strands of fog tangled with the canopy of trees, all weaving together to form an impenetrable barrier.

I saw my mother steal a glance in my direction, a subtle smile on her face. I stared down at my shoes instead.

I could feel the cold, dewy air seeping into the warmth of our car now. As we moved through the winding roads, I counted more trees here than houses. Each plot had its own distinct style. We passed a quaint cottage with a grey thatched roof, its front coloured with the autumnal orange of climbing wisteria. But a little way down the road stood a larger stone manor, almost medieval in state, with a front yard that was covered in fallen leaves of brown and mustard from a nearby maple tree.