Stolen Sunshine

As I lay in bed my dreams plummet through dark hole. The dream starts in a space absence of color until my baby in her crib fades into he is. Although the crib looks more like a prison for Sunshine. A red grim figure picks her up from the crib. Now Sunshines swaddle looks more like a restraint. I reach out trying to save her from the faceless creature that is now approaching the edge of the cliff. They walk off. I can hear my baby's scream as she descends toward the river below then there is silence. I wake lifting up my head from a puddle of tears. My lips taste like salt from all of my crying. Sunshine screams as if she can feel the fear radiating from my heart. These kinds of dreams spin in my mind like a carousel.

The next night I have a dream just like the last only in this one Sunshine can hold her head up. This leads me to believe she's around three years old. The dream is not like a normal dream. It was just some photos. The pictures play like a stop motion picture. Sunshine is in a stroller, and behind is a woman. A stranger. I get this peculiar feeling Sunshine isn't mine anymore in these 'pictures'.

These dreams convince me I need to check on Sunshine. She sleeps peacefully in her wooden crib. I don't feel alone. I get chills from the thought a stranger could be standing right behind me. Weird, it's as if I can imagine a person crouching in my closet as they watch me through a crack in the door. Arms wrap around my waist. I jump and tear them away only to be met with Ben's troublesome face peering back at me.

"Are you okay babe?"

"Uh yeah, bad dream" I kissed him on the cheek as if that counts as an apology. How come I still feel eyes watching me?

Tuesday Morning Noon

I'm going Insane. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome right? I can't help, but open every door before I can continue to walk through my home. Every time I hesitate to turn the knob as if the woman from my dream is crouching in my kitchen closet waiting for me with a knife. This morning my obsession took a bigger step. I counted the food in the house. You know how much salsa is in the container, how much milk is still in the carton, the number of Oreos in a package, Pringles in a can, spoons in the drawer. Those types of things. Approximately three minutes ago I went to the kitchen for a recount, and as I expected things were missing. Now I'm awaiting the arrival of a detective.

The door shook me into a stance ready to attack our intruder. My shoulder ease into my chest once I realize it was probably the detective. I grab Sunshine from her napping crib. I hold her fragile face close to my warm shoulder. As a mother this action is meant to be a coping mechanism for my baby, today it acted as a comfort for me. I crack open the door. What looked like a detective sweated from rays of Missouri's intense June weather. The flash of his badge confirmed my beliefs. I have to squint my eyes because of the glare. I let him in.

"Would you like a drink or something to eat?" I ask frantically flipping through my cabinets.

"I'll take some water" he wiped across his eyebrows with a soaked rag. He was lucidly perspiring from heat. I open the top cabinet containing all the glasses and four bottles for Sunshine. There were three. The glass in my hand slipped out only to shatter when it hit our tiled floor. The detective stood up. "Is everything okay Miss" Too scared to speak I ignored his misuse of the abbreviation. I stood there frozen, an ice capsule as every hair on my body stands up like they have something to run from. I eventually get the courage to point at the cabinet and mutter,

"A bottle is... gone" What if they heard me? What then? I can't stay in this house.

"I can see you're a little disturbed by this ma'am" Why do people do that? Use words to belittle someone else's fear or sadness as if that in itself is a method of comfort. "Why don't you call your husband, and I'll wait for him to come home with you." I accepted his offer not wanting to be alone with whoever was in my home. My home. With my stuff, and my baby.

I'm brought back to my dream. Not the one with the cliff. The one with the other woman and my baby. I divulge my dream to the detective. By the end he had stopped sweating, the color drained from his face, and his eyes had stopped wondering around me, he was laser focused. Although I wasn't one to believe dreams predict your fate, I got chills too. My skin itches from the feeling of eyes continually watching me. The door burst open.

"What happened" Ben exclaimed kissing both me and Sunshine.

"Sir if I may. We suspect you aren't alone in your home. I suggest you get out of here by morning"

"Yeah um thank you so much. Um... Now is probably not the time, but what should we pay you?"

"We can discuss that once I find out who's in your house," he said then directed himself out.

"I'm going to put Sun down for bed, then pack" I kissed Ben on the cheek.

"I'll try to get a place for us to stay" I nodded. The steps to her room felt fake. They felt like one of my dreams. Like a daze. My brain was clouded by a thousand sentences all with the same theme. "I am not alone. Someone's watching me. I'm not alone. There's a stranger in my house" replayed in my head. Each step I took I couldn't help but think I was either walking toward or away from someone I never invited into my home. I wrapped Sunshine into a swaddle. A type of blanket cuddle that is supposed to make a baby feel as if they're back in the womb. She falls into a deep sleep while I watch her. She has no idea what is going on. She's able to be at peace without knowing the danger of someone supposedly invading her house. I wonder to the only place I could be certain no one was with me: the bathroom. In there we had one small cabinet and a tight fit closet both not even suitable for a child to hide in. We couldn't afford a shower curtain, so we just had an open tub. I sat on the toilet seat. Just sat. I didn't think that was A dark hole I couldn't let myself slide down at the moment.

I opened the door carefully to check for someone before entering the hallway. I was startled by the cry of Sunshine though it sounded more like a scream for help. She never wakes up that soon from a nap. I've never heard her scream. It was almost menacing. I ran up to her crib beginning to slid my fingertips under her soft mint green blacked to soothe her. My hands stop as they start to tremble. My vision is fading into black around the edges. Sunshine's blanket is stretched out next to her. It's been stuffed halfway into the crews of the crib. I freeze again. Something swipes across my neck. Although I don't feel anything, I soon know I'm dying.

I'm dead

Ben is dead.

Tuesday 1 am

I found My baby. Her beauty shines brighter than her name: Sunshine. My baby is gorgeous. My baby loves me. She has the most precious eyes. They're ocean blue. I can see the strands of golden hair that shrine through her beanie like the stars in the sky. Her skin is pale like milk. I can't believe she's finally Mine. She's going to grow up with Me, and make Me proud, unlike the other children. They would just die and die and die. Sunshine lived. She didn't betray me. No, don't cry. Please don't cry. Shut up. You're mine now. You don't want to end up like the other children do you?

You're new mommy,

Joan Roberts