Keeping Up With the Wind: A 'Burban Tale by Suleyma Moon

6.

The ferry ride home was amazing. We left a couple of hours after Li'l Jay and Johnny finished doing their thing...whatever that was. For the entire ride we all got along really well. It was Whisper's birthday, after all. Spider and Blaze decided to serenade her, very loudly and very off key. By the time they were finished, a large crowd had gathered around them. The boys got laughed at and booed, but in the end they also got a round of applause and some whistles. Of course, no one asked for an encore.   

            I don't remember getting off the boat, but I do remember everyone going their separate ways after we got into the cabs. The next thing that I can remember after that is being asleep.

            That night I had a dream, and since I didn't remember getting into bed, I thought it was real. I climbed through my bedroom window when we got home to keep from waking my dad. I know that no one was in the room when I first came in, but when I was just about to crawl into bed, I saw my father sitting in a chair, glaring at me.

            "Where have you been?" his voice boomed. I jumped and turned around. He was dressed as if he had just come from church, which was weird because he didn't go to church. Before I could answer, he continued. "Your mother was worried sick."

            I knew in the back of my mind that something was wrong with that statement, but I could not for the life of me figure out what it was.

            "She wants to talk to you," he said. "And your sister is very upset."

            "Sister?" He pointed. I followed his finger and found Faith lying right in front of me on the bed. She looked so peaceful...the way my mother looked in her coffin. I stepped back, shaking my head.

            "Your brother's not too happy, either."

            Even though I never had a brother, or a sister for that matter, I knew that he was talking about Ace. I looked around, expecting to see him somewhere, too. Suddenly, I felt someone grab my hand. Faith's face was all twisted in agony. "Don't...let go," she gasped.

            I knelt beside her. "No, I'd never do that." Her face was turned away from me, so I brushed back her hair.

            I heard her faint voice come muffled through the pillow. "Will you stay with me?"

            "Yes."

            Suddenly, she sat up looking all crazy and, grabbing my hand, she snarled, "Forever?"

            I screamed and fell back, somehow pulling her with me. Twisting out of her grasp, I ran for the door. Right before I could reach the knob, the door flew open and there stood my mother. She was beautiful. Exactly how I remembered her. I could hear my father laughing in the distance and saying, "Now you've done it."

            My mother held out her frail arms to me. "What's the matter, sweetie? Did you have a bad dream?"

            "Yes." I went to her. "Yes." I was so happy to see her, to have her comforting arms around me once again.

            "It's ok," she whispered, stroking my hair. I was actually convinced that it had all been a bad dream.

            Then, with growing horror, I heard a voice that sounded like mine, but I don't think that I said it, accuse, "You're not my mommy! My mommy's dead!" My mother howled in pain and pushed me to the floor. "No mommy! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please don't leave me!" 

            On my knees, with my face still covered, I heard her scream, high-pitched and whiney, "You always have to ruin everything!"

            Looking up, I saw that my mother had begun to decompose. Her long, flowing hair and nightgown were disheveled, and she had dirt covering her from head to toe.

            "Why?" she moaned. Then, just as suddenly, she regained her composure and asked, "Are you crying, honey? I don't want you to cry. I was just a little upset, that's all."

            Surprised, I felt tears begin to stream down my face. Then, at her next words, my stomach jumped into my throat.

            "Give me a hug. It's ok." Her voice was sticky-sweet.

            I tried to stand and run, or to crawl away, but I couldn't move.

            "Please!" She pleaded in a voice so sorrowful that I had to stop and look at her. "Please. My heart is breaking! I can feel it." I could feel it, too. She whispered once more, "Please," and fell to the ground before me.

            "Mommy?" I wanted to touch her, but was too afraid.

            Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Sitting up in a cold sweat, I looked around the room. Nothing. Nothing was wrong. I wasn't crying and I was all alone. Remembering the hand on my shoulder, I stifled a scream and jumped to the side, but there was no hand. There never had been one. I started trembling all over. Contemplating whether or not to yell for my dad, I remembered the dream and decided against it.

            That night, no one was there to tell me I was just having a bad dream, or to tell me that it was all over now and that everything was going to be all right.

            No one at all.

            I was left to face my fears in the dark, all alone.

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