I had that dream again. The dream reminding me why everything fell apart.
My head felt groggy as left class. I noticed Ivan has not been in class lately. Which is odd because I always see him before and after school, Maybe his schedule changed. Right now it doesn't bother me much, because all I want to do is go make a cocoon out my blankets and sleep. Yeah, sleep. It sounds nice.
1:17 a.m.
Another sleepless night. She kept tossing and turning; laying on one side of the bed to the other, on the floor, even under the bed. Nothing worked. Not even the songs that would echo through her head would be the perfect lullaby.
With a deep sigh Madeline reached under her mattress, pulling out a book.
It's been a few days since I've last wrote in my diary, journal, secret book, or whatever you are called but you don't have feelings, right? …. Right?
Lately I have not been sleeping. I keep having those dreams. I dream that my mother is alive, but at the same time, dead. Like one of Alfred's horror film creatures, a zombie. But that so called 'zombie' is my mother, and she was not devouring anyone, no. In my dream I would see her being happy, talking, and looking alive, but she is not. Someone from my dream would point out that she was dead, and that dead people are not supposed to be there. Or here.
Two weeks before my mother left, my uncle, her younger brother, fell asleep and never woke up. I was there at morning when he was sleeping; I wondered why my attempts to wake him didn't work. Hell I was only a child, I didn't know what a dead person looked or felt like until my uncle didn't wake up. I find it funny because I remember so much now. It's like everything from the past that I blocked out is cramming itself back into my head and torturing me. I remember a couple days earlier my mother was looking out the window admiring the December weather she spoke to me saying that her brother was leaving soon, and that he'll be getting things ready. I didn't understand at first.
The night before I dreamt of my uncle. He was cooking in death. Even in life, he cooked, he was a really good cook. My dream had him owning a restaurant of his own, wearing a black chef uniform, because he always loved the color black, and I sat on a stool with Alfred enjoying ice cream. There was no one there, I don't know why but no one was there. It was scary, why?
My uncle's sleeping form haunts me. But what haunts me the most is my mother's eyes. Her blue eyes. I saw them with diminishing life as a very young age.
Love Always,
Madeline
She signed her name with swirls. Just swirls.
4:37 a.m.
In another two hours my alarm will go off telling me it's time to get up. I'm already up though. So I'll turn off my alarm. I won't go to sleep. I feel like I won't ever sleep again.
