I used to have a code word. It was “dreams”. Every time I needed an emergency meeting with Tina I would let the receptionist know it was regarding my dreams. I was given priority because of this code word. Tina would shift appointments a little, cut them short by ten minutes, whatever it took to get me thirty minutes with her as soon as possible. It’s funny; I always called it Tina’s dream even though it was mine. I guess I thought that telling her about it would make it hers. I wish it was her dream. It scares me and I don’t want to face it. Tina’s dream is the only one that makes me sick. For my other nightmares I scream or strike out. I shake uncontrollably and I even cry, which is hard for me to do, but I am never sick. No post can ever help me with Tina’s dream. Tina’s dream is the end of the world.
I am walking through what I have always imagined as the Secret Garden. I am wearing my mother's dress and I can hear it against the grass that I feel beneath my feet, a gentle and soft 'swish, swish'. The ground is firm but springy and my ankles are relieved. I have tears running down my face; they are blue. I keep walking, past the roses, the tulips, the carnations. I bend to pick a lily. Of course I choose the flower of the dead. It is weightless and I feel it slip between my fingers until I grasp it tightly. I kiss the flower and keep moving. I walk past the flower swing and over to her. She is lying under the willow tree with the roses growing over it. The aging grey stone wall stands strong behind her. She is sleeping and a carnation is leaning towards her face.
I don’t stop myself. I kill her. I don’t know it is coming but I do at the same time. It’s really confusing. I lay the lily on her chest and kiss her closed eyes. I run the back of my hand across her face and say goodbye.
“Sleeping Beauty, forgive me. Goodbye Carolynne-Anne.”
Of course I cry. Who would kill their mother? Who would kill Beloved?
I am walking through what I have always imagined as the Secret Garden. I am wearing my mother's dress and I can hear it against the grass that I feel beneath my feet, a gentle and soft 'swish, swish'. The ground is firm but springy and my ankles are relieved. I have tears running down my face; they are blue. I keep walking, past the roses, the tulips, the carnations. I bend to pick a lily. Of course I choose the flower of the dead. It is weightless and I feel it slip between my fingers until I grasp it tightly. I kiss the flower and keep moving. I walk past the flower swing and over to her. She is lying under the willow tree with the roses growing over it. The aging grey stone wall stands strong behind her. She is sleeping and a carnation is leaning towards her face.
I don’t stop myself. I kill her. I don’t know it is coming but I do at the same time. It’s really confusing. I lay the lily on her chest and kiss her closed eyes. I run the back of my hand across her face and say goodbye.
“Sleeping Beauty, forgive me. Goodbye Carolynne-Anne.”
Of course I cry. Who would kill their mother? Who would kill Beloved?
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