Was It Just a Dream

Was It All A Dream?

           What is it like to look in from the outside, and be able to tell if your mom is real or not? To have your mother act differently, then she always had on a daily basis. To also have your grandmother being as sharp as a whip, but slowly fading away. One may say that is a nightmare, and everything will be fine once you awaken. For my family and I, it is our daily lives. To many it may seem like a dream, and most times only a distant memory. It is in fact very real, a world where you think it was written by Stephen King.

Camille's POV:

 My skin felt like porcelain from how cold it was outside. I could see the condensation from my breathing, forming fog on the window. It was snowing outside, making a blanket of frost intraping the life of the living things growing around it. The snow was relentless, everytime you thought it would stop, it would pick back up again. The snow fell in time to the clock ticking on the wall, as the secondes had passed by. I have been inside for three days straight, except for the occasional cigarette. My name is Camille, I am 5'4 with long dark ash brown hair. At the ripe age of 54, I live in an apartment with my mother below me. Her and I are two peas in a pod, or as close as any mother or daughter would be. She has helped me out more than I could have hoped for, my mother was my saving grace, especially when my children were younger. My mother's name is Ann, and she is 80 years young. We have been planning a vacation for a long time. Her and I have been cooped up for far to long in this house, and I can't take another minute of it. I can feel my skin crawl from the neighbor next door, always looking at me with a blank stare. Their eyes look so judgemental towards me, what did I ever do to them? I am always locking my door, making sure they can't wander aimlessly inside. You would be surprised, it has happened to me before in the past. We need to get out of this place for awhile, somewhere me and my mother can't be bothered.

I head downstairs by my mother to make preparations for us to go up north. "Mom, dad you home?"

"Yeah honey we are in the living room!", my mother yells.

"Hey mom are you ready, for our trip coming up tomorrow?" I say with much enthusiasm ready to leave this hell hole. I can't lock myself in the house forever, I need to be able to go outside and enjoy life. I shouldn't have to fall victim to others who make me feel uneasy. My mother looks at me with a smile.

"Yes Camille, I have been packed since mid morning."

"Okay, I am ready to get out of here, I can't wait to head up north. Are you sure you don't want to come with us dad?" I ask persistently, trying to get him to come with, to avoid the odd person always staring at me. The last thing I want, is for that person to start bugging my family. Now that I think about it, I should go back and check the locks on the doors again. I could use a cigarette break right now, with all this tension. I can feel his eyes on me, they feel like a vise, gripping my happiness and tearing it away like a band-aid. "Mom i'm gonna go outside for a smoke i'll be back."

As I approach the door with caution, looking outside, I check to make sure the man is nowhere in sight. I take out my lighter and flick it on, but it doesn't catch. My hands are shaking from the fear of being watched, I have a feeling something bad is going to happen. I flick my lighter multiple times, my back against the wind, so the breeze won't blow it out. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a black shadow, I spin my head to see what it is. I look, it's gone. I shake my head, maybe it was a trick of the light, I think to myself. I finish my cigarette moments later, and head back inside like I was in a running of the bulls event in spain.

"Mom i'm back",

"Oh hey sweetie, we are just watching the news. What time did you say we are leaving again?" She asks with curiosity.