THE DREAM CATCHER

30. EDEN/MEMORY/DREAM

My tar friend walks next to me as I crawl my way through the bushes and trees of the forest. Its shell is melting, I can see more human skin underneath it than before. It's holding my cat in its arms penetrating through the plants that hurt and stab my skin.
I don't know where I'm going. I don't know if I'm dreaming, hallucinating. If I'm asleep or not. I don't know if what I'm seeing is a memory, my imagination, reality. I don't know anything.
,,Where are we going?" I ask my tar friend turning back to look at it even though its the one that's following me. It doesn't say a word. It never does. So I turn to face the path I'm so desperately trying to make for myself. Finally, I escape the wild tangle of the leaves and branches to find myself in the place that whooshes the air from my lungs.
Lake.
The very one lake me and Noah used to swim in when we were kids. It looks almost the same, only a little bit wilder than before as people stopped visiting it. The water reflects the afternoon sunlight, shimmering and blinding me. The smell of herbs and mud break into my nostrils. Deja vu. Home. I feel like home. I haven't felt so peaceful in years. It's quiet in here. The only noises I can gather are some birds' trills and creaking frogs. There's no one here but me and my two friends. I want to cry. I want to ball my eyes out under the weight of memories, feelings this place gives me. We used to visit this place with Noah every week. Every single week we danced with the bushes, with the water, with the birds' songs. Now it's empty. It's like a tomb of my previous life. A memorial. I shake of from my delight and break of running in the direction of forgetting. I don't even take my clothes of, despite the cool weather I sink into the water. The liquid hugs me tight, stick the heavy fabrics to my body, threatens to drown me. I'm floating on the surface, my hair dancing with the slight waves, pinning my eyes to the bright, cloudless sky. Peace. I finally obtained peace. I glance at the shore where my tar friend once stood, but now it's gone, only my cat sits at the edge, drinking water lazily. I could stay there forever. I could make a living here. Hunt for animals, break fires for the evening, sleep in the caves. I could be free. But living in heaven and wealth for so long taught me nothing about survival. Taught me only to rely on technological goods served right under my nose. And I have nothing but stolen, too big clothes, stolen, heavy gun and a mess in my head. I can't stand there, even if I desperately wanted to and the awareness of that breaks my heart. A gun. Suddenly its weight seems to drag me down under the water. I run out of it as I was burned. I take it out of the pocket with cold, dripping wet hands. Nothing happened. I hope. The freezing wind lashes my soaking wet skin suddenly reminding me of the fact that it's mid-October. I have to light a fire or I'll freeze to death. I take a quick look around in search for a one, particular thing. And i find it. There's a huge rock leaning against the truck of an ancient old oak tree. There's always been. In the old times, when me and Noah visited the place we would hide underneath it to light up a fire and dry out our clothes. At least I learned how to produce a source of warmth. So on a shaky leads I grab my cat in my arms and head towards the shelter. Lady Macbeth twirls in my arms, annoyed by the water coating her fur. I put her down onto the ground as soon as I reach the rock roof. It looks exactly the same as it did years ago. I trace my blue from the low temperature hand over the rough surface. It's still there. The word Noah engraved on the rock with his knife is still there.
,,Family."
I can feel the tears gathering under my eyelids. I remember clearly the day he took his knife out of his shoe and marked the rock. I was six that time. That time we had nothing. We were poor, usually starving, lost. But we were happy. We were free. Everything changed when we moved to the sun city. Everything turned grey. The people, the buildings, the sky. I never saw anyone with a different skin colour later. Until now. I never saw a naturally living tree later. I never saw Noah's smile when we moved. Crossing the threshold of our apartment erased this grimace from his face forever. Soon, it erased him as well. Soon it erased me, too. I fall onto the ground, supporting the rock with my back. I can feel the presence of the engraved words above my head. Lady Macbeth sits in front of me, blinking lazily as she watches my performance of sadness. I force a sad smile.
,,Nothing bothers you, does it?" I ask. In response, she licks her paw as lazily and once again participated to lay on the ground and fall asleep. Not moving from my spot I gather a few wooden sicks to lit a fire up. I take my time. Dying of cold gives me a weird pleasure. Sprinkles my backs with shivers. Makes me feel present. But soon my firedamp is ready and the little flames dance with a slight wind. I took my boots of and let them dry. I comfort myself on the ground and meet the rocky dome with my eyes, crossing my arms on my chest. A nice warmness hugs me from my side as I try to zone out. It's only afternoon but I can feel my eyelids growing heavy under the weight of today's and yesterday's experiences. How come I now fight for life when just a week ago I was wondering wether to wear a blue or a red uniform for school? My life changed dramatically in just a few days. Turned upside down forcing me to painfully land on my head. But I wouldn't want to come back to my life before I started feeling. At least now I can tell that I miss warm blankets and a cup of tea. Now I can tell that I miss Noah and a pair of black eyes. Now, when I feel that something is bad, maybe, I can change it. My vision starts to blur, the surrounding becoming darker as my eyes close to sleep.
,,Goodnight amore." My heart skips a beating as a familiar voice rings directly next to my ear. I sit up, chest pounding with shock. But looking around I can see nothing but a wild forest. He's not there. He's only in my head.