The Dreamer

Chapter 28

It was almost noon and Sarah couldn't muster the strength to get out of bed. The last few days she had cried herself to sleep and then waken up exhausted and eager to cry some more. Whatever that feeling was, it had become too real, as if she was living the reality of her feelings and not the one of her physical body. Ali took a taxi and checked on her a couple of times; the last time was two days ago. But even if she wasn't there physically, Sarah felt Ali's presence all the time, her care and love, plus multiple texts through the day reminded her she wasn't alone.

The frustration was really getting to her. It had been already many days since she felt something was wrong, and the uncertainty of what would happen was not as bad as the uncertainty of not knowing when it would happen. Every day could be the day she lost her daughter, this time without possibility of reconciliation. As painful as it was, most nights she forced herself to imagine Jessica in all sort of dangerous situations; maybe it will trigger a dream forecasting what was to come. Still nothing! It was as if her gift had run out of fuel. There was absolutely no one single dream she could recall the next morning. However this morning was different. She had dreamed she was driving really fast, but where was she going and what for? As she floored the pedal, and the car went even faster, a beeping started bringing her to consciousness. She woke up grumpy, sad, and frustrated.

A call from Damon was on the screen. What in the world is he doing? Without thinking it twice, she blocked his number and then deleted it. Why do you keep calling? In reality, answering was the only way to know what he wanted. I could have answered. She sighed; maybe she just made a big mistake. But there were more important things happening right now. So she pushed him out of her mind and got out of bed. She considered alerting Matthew but what would she say? It's not like she had something concrete to warn him about. She dialed his number nonetheless.

He answered in the first ring, "Hi Sarah."

"Hi," She stumbled. She had called every day and asked the same thing, How is Jessica?

"Jessica is fine, in case that's what you were calling for," he said.

She sighed in relief. "Thank you Matthew. I will go now."

"No you won't," he said rather curtly.

"What? Is there something wrong?"

"You tell me. What is wrong? You have called every day asking about my daughter. You can't expect me to simply report to you and forget the issue. I am getting freaked out now. What is wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong," she said while scratching her chin. Not warning her father made a difference between him living and dying, now she had to warn Matthew. But on what basis? She had no clue of what he needed warning from.

"Sarah, please," he said with a serious tone.

"I just have this feeling, something isn't right," she confessed while putting a hand on her chest.

"Did you have one of those dreams?" his voice filled with concern.

"No, I didn't. I just feel something."

"You feel something?" His tone changed quickly from worry to mistrust.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me," she shook her head.

"It's not that. I mean, put yourself in my shoes."

"No, Matthew. I can't do that. I have to trust my intuition. Something isn't right." By now, she was aggressively fidgeting with her hair.

Matthew sighed. "Well, she is fine, ok?"

Sarah felt as if someone had slapped her. "You are not listening. You need to keep an eye on her."

"Are you gonna tell me how to parent her. Forgot I have been the parent here?" Within few seconds he realized the sting of his words. "Sarah. I am sorry. I don't want us to be like that again."

"Fuck off, Matthew," she hung up.

Later that day, Sarah decided to give a try to new things. Ali had suggested for a while, and she had agreed, that the best way to find what her passions are is to try many things and see how each thing feels. The best way to forget about Matthew, Martha, Damon and her financial situation was to busy her mind with other stuff. However, she didn't want to forget about Jessica. Something would happen any time soon, and she wanted to be ready to help her daughter.

Ali had mentioned before that the best way to allow her insights to come through was to silence the mind chatter. Maybe this will help me connect with my intuition and my gift, she though while doing the dishes that she had left there last night. Multiple realizations came to her at once. First, she looked around. Her place was a mess. She was the tidiest person she knew, granted she didn't know much people. Plates in the sink, overnight. That was new to her. She scrubbed the plates; letting the first realization sink in. she needed to take care of her personal space. It was just too hard to care about her personal space when she could lose any time soon what mattered to her the most. She shook the thoughts away and welcomed the second realization.

She had referred to her dreams as Intuition and gift. She stopped scrubbing and reflecting on the influence Ali had in her life the last couple of months. Yet, a part of her knew that this was something that was always part of her, regardless of how she called it, at times curse, this was her right, and this was part of who she was. And it was indeed a gift; it was indeed intuition.

She put her hands back in the water and grabbed the mug; she scrubbed it quickly and rinsed it. The woman she had been for years felt a different life, a completely different person. She let her mind wander to her days as a successful manager at her office. She lived her life in complete control of everything outside, and everybody around her. Now it was time to live her life with a control from within.

After she finished with the dishes, she opened her closet and pulled out some brushes and some oil paints as well as a canvas. She set the easel and the canvas on it. Painting was something she always felt called to try but there was never enough time. Now this was the perfect way to stop her mind chatter.

She blended some colors and started spreading it on the empty canvas without any expectation of what the final result would be. A little bit of red and a little bit of blue. She used the red near the bottom and the blue near the top. Every strike on the canvas felt like she was painting with her fingers. She could feel present in the process of painting, as well as in the painter and the painting itself, both the act and the product of the act.

She continued with the strikes in a state of meditation. In the end, she had made a spiral of colors, red starting below and blue above. Next she painted a white circle in the middle. What did I paint? She looked at her creation trying to find the concept behind it. Oh tricky mind. She had managed to isolate herself from her mind chatter, and now it tried to come back to the driver seat. Not gonna happen. She smiled as she applied the final touches to the painting.