In the first part of my dream I saw a woman, though I knew it was not the same one from the mirror. She had the silkiest bright blonde hair that trickled around her shoulders, and eyes clearer than the sky on a cloudless day. She was dressed in a red apron and was bustling around our old kitchen in Norway, cheery sunshine pouring through the windows. Despite her gentle beauty, the woman looked rather fatigued and restless. Her stomach seemed to be disproportionated to the rest of her body, and she would clutch it every now and then as if she were uncomfortable. Those were enough clues for me to guess that she was pregnant. Something about her appearance looked so loving, I just wanted to reach out and touch her. But as I struggled to move, I realized I was frozen inside the dream. Everything continued to move around me as though it were normal life, yet I was only able to swivel my head from side to side.
To my sudden surprise, in walked Claire from the next room over. But this wasn’t the same Claire I had known my whole life. She seemed to be shorter than I remembered, with a cute cheeky grin and a bright pink bow in her hair that reminded me of something a small child would wear.
“Hi Mommy!” She chirped happily as she looked up at the expecting woman. “What did you make? They smell something soooo good!!”
The woman knelt down and kissed my sister’s head tiredly. Then she turned to the oven and pulled out a tray of warm cookies, steam rising off of them as if they were each a small individual chimney.
“These are just sugar cookies, dear. You wouldn’t mind getting your brothers to try them while I go lay down for a minute, hmm? I’m feeling rather nauseous.”
The little Claire nodded her head up and down and then merrily skipped away. In just a moment, she returned to the kitchen with three eager boys following behind her.
“They look amazing, Mom!!” I saw Milo say. He too, along with my other siblings, looked so much younger than they did in the present day. There was something about each of them that I couldn’t quite place my finger upon, as if in this weird dream they seemed to be so much happier and filled with innocent joy...
Marin was so small he could barely even reach up onto the counter to grab a cookie. Claire sweetly pulled a stool up and sat him on it, giggling as she watched him devour the food with glee. Nothing could change my mind now that this was a vision of my brothers and sister before me, and the woman who had been in the kitchen was Emma.
“Aghh,” She moaned sickly as she slumped onto the nearby couch that faced behind the kitchen. I saw her slide something off the coffee table, a smooth white journal with unmistakable tiny diamonds engraved on the front. Grabbing a pen from her apron’s pocket and putting it to paper, she swiftly began to write...
“I don’t know how much longer I can handle this. Everyday I seem to get more ill, and my poor husband Luke has been spending even more time at work lately. My guess is he’s trying to distract himself so he doesn’t have to think about soon looking after another infant. If only he knew how I was really feeling, then maybe his attitude would be even worse. My mind feels empty these days, my body is soulless. This child of mine is making everything ten times harder now, and I just don’t know if I can handle more parenting soon. At first I was so excited to have another baby, and I thought nothing would take that joy away... not even Luke. But as these months get harder and harder, I miss the old days when I was just a young girl out of college. Back then I didn’t have to think about the futures of my children and the fights that I get into with my husband each night. Ever since I became a mother, my mental state has not been good. I want to escape this reality I’ve trapped myself in, I think I’m starting to want to die.”
Before anything could happen more, my dream became foggy. I struggled to watch as the world went from blurry to dim, then from dim to pitch black. My heart raced as I tried to look through the darkness. Where had my mommy gone? Where was I know? Suddenly, a new vision in my sleep appeared, but what I saw next shattered my heart even more.
I was still in our old house back in Norway, though it wasn’t calm and bright like earlier. This time it appeared to be very late in the afternoon, the sky outside the windows was full of thundering black clouds. I watched as the television by the couch flickered as if it were just another evening in our household. But even then, I felt as though something was terribly wrong. That’s when I heard my father scream from his room. It was a scream unlike any other I had ever heard, the tone in his voice so heartbroken and horrific that I wondered what on earth was happening to make him utter such a cry. I saw my three brothers standing outside his room nervously, they all looked just as small and young as they did in the last dream. Strong little Milo had his arms around River and Marin as they looked at each other anxiously. Then I saw our neighbor emerge from the room. Her name was Miss Hansen, the same neighbor who had babysat me years ago when Claire has gone to school each day. She had dark brown hair thrown up into a messy ponytail, and a green dress that frilled out at the end. From what I could remember, she was a nurse living with her many cats and dogs on the cliff nearby our house. She took one look at my brothers’ terrified faces and whispered something serious to them all. Then she turned her head worryingly towards something in my father’s room, and went back inside.
I swiveled my view to somewhere different, finding that little Claire was sitting stiffly on the couch. In her arms she was holding something wrapped in a matted grey towel. Her usually bright green eyes were dimmed with sadness, and her face appeared to be exhausted and miserable. Just then, the bundle inside the towel wriggled slightly and many a tiny cry. I watched as my big sister cradled it back and forth, big tears in her eyes.
“I-I can’t even believe it,” She choked in a timid voice. “Mommy is in a better place now, that’s what I know for sure. But oh, Wren... how will Daddy ever want you now? He won’t stop screaming for Mommy to come back...”
I felt my heart drop. Frantically, I tried to look around the dream. The calendar on the living room wall read October 12th, which was my birthdate. Slowly, my eyes widened as I realized what was playing out before my eyes.
“No,” I tried to scream, but my voice only seemed to be speaking in my head. “No! Claire, can’t you hear me?! Please tell me Mommy is still alive!”
The vision of my sister as a little girl started to blur. I tried to yell again, but the scene around me dimmed and eventually became black like the first time. Now I was crying with guilt, wishing more than anything I could have seen what happened next. I wanted to see more of Mommy being alive and okay. I wanted Daddy to stop screaming for her with such a terrible voice when she passed away. I wanted to see my siblings with the same happiness they had before I was born. That was when I finally realized I wanted to do the same thing my mother had written in her journal... I wanted to die.
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