Lullaby

Chapter Seven

Maribels house isn't as nice as I hoped, it's quite long. A cottage with a thatched roof and cosy touches that failed to strike me. I thought I'd feel a spark inside... I was incorrect.

She took Dahlia and I down the hallway and into living room on our left. She sat us down on her snowy white leather sofas and brought in a cup of 'tea' on a china saucer. I tried to be nice and drink it, but it didn't really taste of anything.
Dahlia definitely seemed to like the tea, she gripped it tightly and kept it very close to her anxiously.

Maribel sat opposite us, placing her tea onto the glass table before her. She swallowed,
"Maybe... Maybe this explanation will jog Lullaby's memory." Her voice shook. "You're twenty, yes?"
"Mm-hm" I agreed.
"Well, you're not."
I feel my forehead crinkle in confusion.
"y-you're dead."
I can feel weights on my shoulders and butterflies in my stomach. My ability to speak seems to be deteriorating. I can only form some random noises when my bottom lip is bobbing like a gold-fish.

Dahlia almost spat out her tea, but started coughing instead. She soon got over it and let Mum talk.
"You died 10 years ago... You were a drug addict, one day you just collapsed. We rushed you to the hospital while you were still conscious. You took your last breath in December 12th 2005."

Of course! I have been here before! My childhood flashed before my eyes, a happy child, my teenage years going down hill... I was consumed by darkness and the drugs intoxicated me. The addiction, an instant craving like a lion craves meat.

The neighbours I once knew could do nothing but watch me go into the hospital. To never return, to be swallowed by death itself... That's what I thought.

"I was an unhappy teenager. Doubting myself, unwanted like trash, treated like shit by my fellow university students... Or whatever it was. It sucked, I felt like nothing, that's what I became." I growled, resting my head on my fist. Dahlia pulled a face.

"That doesn't explain why Lullaby tried to warm up my fridge because he thought it was over fed and sickly. Or why he thought there were little people in my television, of which he decided to come up with a solution... Which just happened to be kicking it off its stand."

"Oh, sorry about that." Mum replied.
"It could be the drugs still having an affect on him."
"Even after death?!" Dahlia gaped.
"I don't think so. I would still be crazy, right? If it was perminant, but ten years and it's worn off now I have faced reality... I mean, I know everything about myself now. I think. But I want to know why I have come back now. Why not a year later, after I died rather than ten? Can I decide but not remember when I come back to life? Do I have a grave?"

"It's worth looking into if it's for my little guy, I'll take you to your grave." Mum said, taking another sip of tea.
That sounded a little weird, even to me.