Is It Ever Just a Dream?
He reached from the backseat and grabbed her neck with his thick, cold hands. Struggling to breathe, her fingers clasped his and loosened his grip, allowing her enough room to reposition her head, then sink her teeth into his wrist…
She put the car into drive.
“I’ll drive, Mom,” she said. Her mom’s eyes grew heavy, and stared ahead.
“Mom, it’s ok. I can drive,” she repeated.
Her mom got out of the car. Once she was in the driver’s seat, and her mom was in the passenger’s seat, she looked at her and smiled. “It’s ok.” She put the car into drive.
“Stop!” She jumped as she heard a dark, familiar voice from behind. “Marie will drive,” he stated coldly.
She took her hands off the wheel and looked in the rearview mirror. He was in the back seat, directly behind her. She put the car back into park.
“No,” she said firmly. “Mom said I can drive.” She attempted to sound strong.
Without warning, he reached from the backseat, grabbing her neck with his thick, cold hands.
Writhing in pain and struggling to breathe, she managed to pry his fingers and loosen his grip enough to turn her head, then sink her teeth into his wrist.
Only it wasn’t his wrist. It was her pillow.
Sleeping Giants
It’s fascinating how our psyche determines our dreams. Regardless of how much we fight to bury the emotions plaguing us, they rise from the depths of our subconsciousness, attempting to make sense.
Loss, trauma, fear, joy, lust, paranoia, pride…they wait in the dark like sleeping giants.
This giant woke while Millie cared for her disabled mother. Her mom was in the hospital recovering from neglect and abuse by her mentally ill father, who disappeared the week before.
Obliged to protect her mother, she obtained legal and medical POA, stayed at the hospital day and night, and talked to doctors, nurses, caseworkers, and detectives…
Though she knew she did everything right, it unnerved her that her Dad would revile every decision she made. They had been here before, and nothing she did was ever good enough. This would be no different.
To him, she was his ungrateful, selfish, malicious offspring spending her life attempting to avenge the abuse she suffered as a child. She didn’t have to wonder if that’s what he believed. He told her as much.
In contrast, the reality was that he was her hero, her first hug and snuggle. The man who raised her inside the walls of the church and taught her how to pray…
The friend she contacted when she needed wisdom… The one who walked her down the aisle to greet her husband…
He was the parent she trusted. But not anymore. Now he is trying to kill her. In her dreams, anyway.
Is it ever just a dream?
“It was just a dream,” Jake insisted.
“But it wasn’t just a dream,” Millie argued. “It’s reality. I’m actually afraid my dad is going to kill me.”
“You’re subconsciously afraid your dad is going to kill you. There is a difference.”
“Yes, there is a difference. And yet the reality is that I’m afraid of my dad. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”
“It tells me you need a break from caring for your mom.”
“Thanks, Jake. That’s really helpful,” Millie sneered. She rolled her eyes and ended the call.
