A hundred Cherry Blossoms and Counting

It starts with the Dream

Walking down the trail not so far from the camp site, I talk to my mom about how the stares look even better here-
where there's no busy people trying to ruin the air with their cars that love to puke out gas like it isn't killing trees or polluting the air.
She laughs along like she's listening but the words probably are going through one ear and out the other.
Well, whatever.
It's a dream anyways.
"What makes you think I'm not real?" She asks.
I know this part already-
She asks why I think it's a dream, even though it seems real but then again that's what dreams are supposed to do-
Suppose to make you this made up world where you escape to at night so then at least you'll have a little bit of comfort before you wake up.
"Prove to me it's not a dream and that everything right now is very much real."
I challenge, her and I both know that she'll loose but it's worth a short every time.
This dream is very well put together and if I were any less dumber I'd most likely think this was all real-
That I'm actually at a camping site with my mom, dad, and brother.
But I'm not.
We both slow down our foot steps and sit on a nearby bench that was probably put there so when the fat people get tired of trying to loose weight, all they do is find these handy dandy benches and sit down.
"You should be open to things honey," she starts,
"Sometimes it's hard accepting things you think aren't real when they are and its okay. I was like that when I was younger too. I didn't think bad people existed but they do and I had to accept that already.
You can take the stars for example too-
They're so pretty that it seems unreal but the starts themselves are very much real, ask any scientist who works with dealing with the sky and whatnot and they'll tell you that, yes, the stars are very real."
She continues talking and I soon tune her out having heard this speech over and over.
I've grown use to this dream already, I know my brother, who's at the camp site, is real and he's experiencing the same thing.
We're twins after all. It's sort of a given to know what the other is up to 24/7.
As I feel the conversation die down, I stand up and look at her again smiling.
"You basically just told me a speech. You never do that. None of this is real because my mom wouldn't even bother explaining anything to me.
Thanks for trying dream mom.
Maybe next time?"
She smiles and it's not that content kind of smile that people usually wear, it's more like a sad kind of smile if that makes sense to you.
She nods me off and I walk back to camp.
It's a dream because everyone in my dream is dead except my brother and I.
We killed them afterall.