Lend me your dream

Chapter 3 - Not alone anymore

I was taken to the hospital. The assumption of an alcoholic coma was confirmed by the results of the blood test. A few hours of intensive care and rehydration later, I gradually came to my senses. I was scared not to feel in control with my own body, and even before I could find the strength to open my eyes, what a comfort to hear my mother's voice whispering "Molly, we are here, you'll be fine". And I felt her hand delicately on mine. I slowly opened my eyes, the neon lights blinded me and everything was still blur. I then identified my mother's face. Her fear gave way to the peaceful and grateful look of a mother who enjoyed every second of this moment in which her child was safe and healthy. That was such a blessing for me at that time. I remember my father's smile after that. He didn't need to say anything so I understood that my bad choices would be quickly forgiven and I could rely on him for moving forward. And as for Barnabé, I owe him my life! The tear of gratitude falling down my cheek when we looked at each other seemed to remove the worry he felt. An amazing family hug ensued, full of honesty and goodness. We were all four more united than ever and I felt loved. I would have liked that moment to last forever.

I spent a night in the hospital. The following morning, my parents brought me back home because my health was no longer worrying. On the way, as an admonition, my father only told me in the car: "Molly, I know that you won't talk about it but whatever you've kept in your heart since Roxane's death, you have to believe that we care about you, so, please, don't ever do this again!" His words induced a real breath of fresh air after that dark time in my life in which I thought that nothing mattered. Back home, I hurried to get rid of the empty bottles and return the others to my father who teased me despite the circumstances: "And what's more, you chose nice bottles, it's casting pearls before swine!" This bit of fun was welcome because I felt sheepish. I rested and watched TV for most of the morning and then the doorbell rang. I opened the door. It was Valentin! The piano had brought us together for several years and we never missed a lesson, except me, that day. It was Saturday morning and for the first time, Valentin hadn't found me there. I had shut my phone off, so he called my mother to ask if anything was wrong because he was worried not to see me at the piano lesson. She told him that I was okay, but that it would be nice if he dropped by to see me. She was right!

When he walked through the door, I was happy. He said he had missed me during the piano lesson and that the intensity of the music wasn't as powerful as when I was here, it moved me! To make up for it, I offered him to go up to my room and play the piano together. We settled next to each other and played a four-handed piece of music that we both knew by heart. Time had seemed to stand still, this moment was ours and was embellished by the melody which had never resonated with such a rightness into me. I became suddenly aware that it was thanks to the people who loved me that I could control my life again. First my family, then Valentin, they were here for me and I realised that they were the best things I had in life. I had created a character among the school population which wasn't really me. Roxane's tragic fate had thrown a reality about myself back in my face that I abhorred, as bad as the popular students whom I had identified to for the wrong reasons. Confused, I had chosen to languish and destroy myself. I will never be able to thank my family and Valentin enough for straightening me out. Roxane won't come back, some past mistakes won't be fixed, but it is time to learn from it and move forward, guided by laudable values. But I couldn't follow this way alone.

Valentin and I were the same age, but we went to different schools and thus didn't have the same friends. He had been a part of my life for a long time and we always liked to see each other on Saturday mornings, but, however, I never considered him as a real friend, more just like a good mate. And yet, when I saw him standing up in front of me on the doorstep, it became obvious: he was the only true friend I had ever had! He had always been discreet but he didn't seem to doubt for a second that he was supposed to be here that day. As if he knew that I needed him more than ever.

I had promised myself I would never talk about the particularity of my dreams to anyone, convinced that people wouldn't understand, or that they would be afraid and pull away from me because I could access their minds against their will. Everyone needs to preserve a part of secret as desired and would feel disempowered if they lost their entire ownership of it. By acceeding to dreams, I could override the protection of the most deeply buried and private mysteries. At this point in my life, I felt the compelling need to confide and Valentin was without any doubt the only person of trust on whom I could unload a bit of this heavy burden. It was quite a challenge against myself to let this part of me that I had all this time hidden emerge. Was I right to trust him? How was he going to react? Did I risk to lose the one who had just presented himself as a true friend, leaving the essence of what made me someone special getting away with him? But I did it! I told him everything about my dreams without any filters, Roxane, my guilt towards her... While I was dreading his reaction, I just had to lay my eyes on his, which were sparkling with fascination, to be reassured. He was stunned by my revelations, he gave me his feelings about them with a bunch of superlatives because he found this paranormal power absolutely insane. What a pleasant surprise! I wasn't expecting such an admiring and glowing feedback from him, it was almost embarrassing. He asked me about generalities, about details, and then about his own dreams of course. We talked for hours about those reminiscences from a more or less distant past. We also laughed a lot. Among other things, he explained me the reason why I had blue hair in a lot of his dreams. It wasn't so that they matched my eyes as I thought, but simply in accordance with the name of our little piano school, "La Note Bleue" (The Blue Note). What happens in a child's head is indeed so basic and simple: a person they like, a place they like, a musical instrument they like, and here I am, playing the piano with blue hair. "La Note Bleue", we had learnt the reason for this name only after many years. Our teacher, Mr Douglas, was a piano prodigy, a passionate lover of Blues. The blue note gives Blues' musical color. It's used by musicians to show the nostalgia or the sorrow related to a personal story. All this echoed my recent torments. We remembered beautiful memories about Mr Douglas transcending himself on the piano on a Blues rhythm. It already made us shudder as we were children. It was our reward after the lessons in which we had done a good job. Even if they are rarer today, we still enjoy these privileged shows.

This brief return to childhood had enabled me to apprehend my dreams with more serenity and regain the hindsight I had younger not for being too emotionally involved. I had definitely forgotten the people I had met in lower secondary school (in France, pupils change schools after GCSE). To the delight of my parents, Valentin had convinced me to work to pass my French GCSE. Therefore, this digression wouldn't undermine my future. It was the end of June, one week before the exam and we had revised together. Once our certificates passed, we had made sure to be in the same school and in the same class for Year 11 in September for the new academic year.