Disclaimer: I do not own Dawson's Creek or the characters. They are property of Kevin Williamson.
Conversations Remembered
Chapter 1
"Pick that up right now!"
She is yelling at me again. The sturdy and healthy bones of her index finger pointed menacingly at me, moving up and down, the skin of her face red and tightly fixed in anger, and she stared at me. All of this meant little to me at the tender age of three except for one thing: she was angry. All I can appreciate, the only thing I could understand, was the anger. Her voice, mother's voice, was the clue. Her tone was chilling and harsh, enough to make a ghost jump out of its skin. I looked up at her in all innocence.
My intense brown eyes stared back at her, a frightened stare bright enough to light up an entire room. Her face was unsympathetic as she glared back at me. The cup fell slowly from my hands and rolled away with a clatter, leaving behind a pool of white residue on the kitchen floor. Fixated with the object that rolled across the floor, I chased after it as fast as my little legs would allow.
"Joey, get back here right now!"
More yelling, her tone was unchanged from two minutes earlier. I could feel her breathing down my neck as I scooted closer to the cup, which was now motionless. I could see the cup within my grasp. I reached out for it as I felt hands reach under my arms and scoop me up. I was so close, but yet so far away. I started to cry out in frustration. I could feel my mother's hand gently stroking my chocolate brown hair. Her manner was quite different now, and I felt comforted in her arms.
"It's okay sweetheart. Mommy's here."
My tears seemed to lighten a bit as she bent down to wipe away the milk. I looked up at her with pleading eyes.
"Mommy," I said.
"What is it sweetie?" she asked me.
"Can you read me a story?"
"Sure. How about you and I go get you in your pajamas and then I'll read you a story until you fall asleep."
"My princess pajamas?" I asked her.
"Sure. Come on."
She gingerly placed me in my bed. The fluffy sheets with fairytale princess imprints, felt warm against my delicate skin. I sank deeper into the sheets taking in the soothing aroma of the Lavender and Vanilla laundry detergent my mother always used. My mother neatly pulled the comforter up to my chin, tucking my hands inside. I let out a soft giggle as my mother began to tickle me.
"Stop it, mommy. Stop it," I said. A smile appeared on my face as I tried to wiggle myself free. She lightly eased her grip on me and she rearranged the covers just so.
"Mommy, aren't you going to read me a story?" I asked.
"What story do you want me to read?"
"The story about the princess." She flashed me a warm smile as she got up off the edge of the bed. She ran her finger along the long train of books, carefully looking at each title. Finally, she stopped and I knew that she had found the right book. I smiled as she pulled the book from its spot. She returned to the bed, lifting me up and placing me on her lap. I snuggled down, resting my head in her chest, as she opened the book and began reading. My eyes and ears listened intently to every word she uttered, like a melody of singing birds, each note more beautiful then the one before. My eyes were growing weary now. I tried to resist the urge to fall asleep but I seemed to be losing the battle. Giving up, I allowed my eyes to slowly sink under the lids. My mother was now stroking my hair as she continued reading. That night and for many nights that followed, I would dream of princesses in all their beauty.
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