December 19, 2000
I raged a battle against sleep and sad to say I didn’t put up a good fight. I was already burned out and I could feel my eyes drooping… I mentally slapped myself.
No! I can’t afford to sleep! I can’t face the demons that await me in the land of dreams.
It had been hours since Rain dropped me home. I knew she was fighting the urge to bombard me with questions and frankly, I did not have the courage to talk to her about me and the horrors of my past. That’s why I said goodnight as fast as I could and shamelessly slammed the door in the face of my worried best friend.
I laid in my bed with the same clothes I wore to the concert; I was so damn exhausted that the idea of standing would surely result in me collapsing and further damage from the fall, thus, I refrained from doing it.
I tried blocking out all the pictures forming in my mind; pictures that belonged in the past, but, I am not superwoman. My strength withered slowly, and because I could no longer evade it, I allowed myself to conjure up the images that were hidden in my mind all these years. I closed my eyes and I could see it, his handsome face, his strong arms and how safe it felt when I was wrapped in his protective embrace. I could remember how he called me a princess. I could hear his solemn promises that he would always be there for me and mom.
I thought after all this years, I would no longer vividly remember the way he looks. I was so damn wrong; I would never forget how my father looked like. For the truth is no matter how painful, I would still keep it forever and hold it dear in my heart.
I don’t know why, but maybe it was simply because I was so tired and no longer have the energy to continue fighting or it could be about the excruciating pain in my chest. Either way, I finally gave in and succumbed to my slumber.
--
I woke up frantically. I felt the dryness of my throat and my cheek hurt. I heard a sound that didn’t make sense, an odd, peculiar note ringing in my
" Hush now darling. It was just a dream. It can’t hurt you.”
I was still delirious, but I turned my gazed to my beautiful mother beside me. Her voice was rough with anxiety.
“Jane, darling talk to me. God! Should I slap you again? You’re scaring me.”
I threw a panic glance at her.
“You slapped me?”
I brought my hands to my flaming cheek and winced. That’s why it hurts like hell.
“You were going hysterical darling, shouting and tossing like a maniac in your bed. I was clueless on what to do. It’s been almost two years since you had a nightmare like this. I was so worried stiff.”
And that’s why I love drugs Mom. When I am stone high I don’t dream. That’s the freaking reason I started using.
“Darling please say something. What was your dream?”
I felt the blood leave my face. The nightmare, it was the only nightmare I had since I was 12. Pathetic as it sounded, my mind never got tired from repeating it again and again. It was somewhat a Jane-special-edition-of-horror. I never had the opportunity to dream of the ghost from movies or the monster hiding in my closet.
“It was horrible mom.”
Talking hurts, my throat was so dry I was afraid it would crack. I curled up in my bed like a fetus coiled in its mother's womb. Then suddenly, I realized something. Oh! That odd noise was coming from me. It was the slow but violent sobs in my chest.
"You were always there during my hard time and now it’s time for meto be with you. Tell me what was it? We will face this nightmare together.”
My mother wrapped her hands around me and pulled me into an embrace. Mom was right, I was always there for her and this past years I hadn’t felt the presence of a mother. I worked part time to meet bills and to provide for necessities during the time that mom did not have a steady job. And when she became workaholic I was left alone and so I turned to drugs. And somehow, I wanted all that to change. I needed a mother. I needed to let her in, inside that small bubble I had wrapped around myself.
I was getting control of myself, my breathing evening out. I turned around and stared at the eyes of my mother, which were filled with tormenting pain. My voice was low and hoarse but it did not matter. I whispered to her amidst the darkness in my room,
“I dreamt of the night that Daddy was murdered. But this time mom, in my dream, I wasn’t sleeping when he died. I was staring at him while I stood in a pool of blood: his blood.”
I felt my mother go numb but I wasn’t finished yet.
“Mom? Tonight during the concert I saw Robb.”
That was when my mother fainted in my arms.
Oh Mom! I thought we are going to face this together? A bitter laugh escaped my lips as the first ray of the morning sun chased the darkness away.
And it's out! :)
Dedicated to an amazing author but certainly a much amazing person and a friend @fallenstar22 for the wonderful edit! I love you as much as I love food.
SHOUTOUT to @jocelynkt! This one is also for you.
-Yes, Jane's father was murdered. He was stabbed a thousand times! Hahaha. Joking, seriously he was killed viciously. Why? Becouse I am a sadistic author. (wink*)
On the other hand. I fear for my life! Due to reading 1D fanfiction, I started taking interest in this boyband. This is bad. The darkside is so tempting! They have Niall Horan after all.
And so, bye bye my popodolls! I lov---- OH! food!
