She thinks I am crazy; she thinks that I don't hear her arguing with daddy, but I do. Every night I hear them fighting; it is always over the same thing, me. I know that if I leave or commit suicide it would be worse, a lot worse. She thinks I will make the baby, Caroline, sick . . . like me. I won't, I know I won't; Caroline will never be like me. Oh no! She is climbing up the stairs to come say good night. I had better close my eyes and pretend to be asleep like I do every night. I can hear my door creak open. I can hear her heals tip tapping on the floor. I can hear her come to a stop and the end of bed. I can hear her kneel, the soft sound of her skirt hitting the floor, the feeling of her hot breath against my cheek. She does it every night, comes in and kneels at the end of my bed, never touching me, afraid she would get sick, and then she whispers something. I cannot hear what she whispers. I fantasize that it is like the kind words she used to say before my dreams, that she is saying something like "I love you" or "Sweet dreams." Oh, how I miss the way my mommy used to tuck me into bed, kiss me on the forehead, and say things like that, sweet things. I feel asleep thinking of sweet things long past.
I woke up the next morning after having another one of my dreams. It was going to rain today and Daddy was going to get caught in it. I had better catch him before he leaves. I jumped out of bed slipped on my slippers and ran down stairs to see Daddy just leaving. I barely caught him and said,
"Daddy, it is going to rain today so take your rain coat and umbrella!"
"Thank you, my dear" he said as he kneeled now to give me a hug, Daddy liked my dreams he says that they save him a lot of time. He stood up again and went to go and fetch his rain coat and umbrella. I heard Mommy stopping him in the hall and saying,
"Why are you encouraging her!" my mother hissed like a snake.
"I am not encouraging her. I am treating her like my daughter; the way that you should be!" my daddy said in that quiet little yell.
"She is sick! She is a witch, and if she wasn't my daughter I would have her burned!" My mommy yelled not bothering to try and be quiet.
"Yes, but she is your daughter, and it is about time that you start treating her like it! Now, I have to get to work we will discuss this when I get home." Daddy said in a very stern voice as if he was talking to a child.
Daddy walked out without giving me a kiss good-bye. I wanted to run after him to remind him, but then Mommy would be mad that I went outside again. I try to be a good girl, try not talk about my dreams, or go outside, or touch the baby, but sometimes I just can't help myself. Sigh; here comes Mommy better start on my chores.
10 years later
Today is my birthday I will be turning 15, and in most families that means that it is time to start looking for a suitable husband. In mine it means nothing, but just another day. Last night I saw my Daddy's choice, in my dream, he is going to leave. He is tired of having to deal with the way that my mother is, the way that I made her. When I go downstairs I will see a note that I am not allowed to read, but I know what it says I saw it last night in the dream, in my Daddy's beautiful handwriting it says,
Dear Family,
I love you all so much, but your sister's illness has just become too much for me to handle. That does not mean that I love you any less my princess it just means that it is all too much. I will try and visit but I don't know how often. Diana please treat our child the way the she should be treated I am begging you do not do anything drastic this is not her fault it is mine and mine alone.
Love, Daddy
I will miss him. After my mother read the letter she came up to my room in a fiery rage. I could hear her heals slamming against every stair. She slammed so hard on the creaky step, that I swore it was going to break. I could see the water by my bedside, which I use to wash my face, rumbling in time with her slamming. The door swung open and hit the wall so hard that there was now a nice hole in the wall. My mother's face was so red, and so hot I swear you could have cooked an egg on it. She grabbed my wrist and yanked me out of my bed. I could already feel the blood pooling and forming a bruise, as she started to drag me to the door.
"Mother! Where are you taking me! Tell me, please mother! I have been a good girl I promise!" I screamed trying to get my mother to stop
"A good girl? A GOOD girl!" My mother yelled "you have been anything but a good girl! YOU drove your father out of this house! But I suppose you already know that because of those damn dreams!You're coming with me and you will be lucky if they don't burn you for being a witch!"
"NO! Mother please do not send to the asylum! I will be a good girl I will do whatever you want I promise!" The asylum terrified me it was dark and they do bad things to people in there . . . very bad things. The only reason that my mother didn't send me to that place was because my Daddy would never allow it but now who will stop her?
"I want you out! I want you to suffer like I am suffering now! You took my husband from me you took my daughter from me! You took everything!" She dragged me out to the car, and tied my hands. Then she drove the five hours to the asylum in the next county. I was pleading with her the whole way, but it seemed as if nothing would stop her.
When we got there it was just as I imagined it to be big, cold, and gray,
"Please, Mother, do not make me go in there." I pleaded with her as hot tears ran down my face.
"You will do as your mother asks now go" She said, looking at me with her cold gray blue eyes looking deep into me. I could see the pain deeply etched in them. I wanted nothing more than to make the pain go away. I knew that I was the cause for all that pain and all that hurt, so I walked into the building with my mother without a sound trying to make at least this easy for her.
When we got into the cold, gray, lifeless building I heard horrible scream coming from the double doors at the end of the hall. That scream came from someone whose pain ran all that way down to their soul. I knew that in only a couple of hours that would be me. Mother walked up to the desk, her heels making that familiar clip clop that was almost comforting in this time of new and horrible things.
"My daughter thinks that she can see the future through her dreams, can she be healed?" My mother said faking concern for the public
"Of course, we here at Happy Thoughts can heal any issue of the mind." The receptionist said, with a huge smile on her face.
"Thank you" my mother said, her voice sounding so relieved. Most people would assume it is because I would be healed, but I know that it is simply because she is getting rid of me.
Then the receptionist pressed a buzzer and the double doors in the back of the room slowly creaked open. It felt as if they took a decade to open. When they finally did two huge men, in white, stepped out of the door and took my still bound wrist, and lead me through the doors. It took every bit of my power to not try and run, but I had to make this easy for my mother. I made the rest of her life so difficult that I owed her this.
When we got through the doors we walked past another bunch a big doors till we reached the back. There they opened the door and threw me in; slamming the door after me. The rope that still bound my hands was cutting in, and it hurt so badly. I tried and tried to get them off with my teeth, but nothing helped so I simply lay down and tried to sleep. So I could dream and find out what will happen, but I was too scared to sleep. What felt like an hour later the two men came back and grabbed my bound hands again they led me down several more hallways till we reached one with only one door they opened that door and threw me into, yet another room.
This room had a big chair and this weird contraption overhead. There was another older man in the room. He looked nice may be he could help me?
"Oh, my dear why are yourwrists bound so tight?" He asked in a caring and kind voice that just made me want to spill everything to him.
"Well, my mother took me here, and I didn't want to come so I fought her. So she tied my hands in an attempt to make me calm down." I said my voice surprisingly steady.
"All right, then come here so that I can untie them for you." he said again in the caring voice but something about it seemed a little off.
"All right" I said this time my voice shaking
I slowly walked toward the terrifyingly caring man. He gently wrapped his hands around my throbbing wrist and untied the knot. When the rope fell away from my wrist and in to his silky smooth hands there was a screaming pain from the blood returning to my hands after so long. I could see the deep black bruises that now were along my wrist you could clearly see my mother's hands in the bruises.
"Now, my dear if you would please sit over there." He said gesturing to the cold uncaring mental seat under the odd contraption.
"Now, relax and let your mind drift away" He said as he attached little suction cup type things to the sides of my head. I tried to relax but I could not. I felt as if something bad was going to happen something very bad. The old man flipped a switch and an unimaginable pain coursed through my body. It felt like being burned from the inside out. Like everything being burned and twisted and cut. Then there was the black. There was nothing but the black, and I felt myself slip away.
