Lyria Abell

Snow, light, and white. Darkness except for the car lights. Arguing, “Your never home I get that your job is important but you also have another job being a mother.” “I know don't tell me that but what do you expect for me to quit my job?” 

Silence. The first voice spoke in a whisper. “Maybe you should consider just taking a year off. You are always getting home late, go to bed, and then wake up stressed for your next shift. I feel like a single parent. I don't know how much longer I can last.” “You don't mean that, you know how much my job is to me.” “yes but…” 

“Mom…” “Yes honey?"  "When are you going to make cookies with me.” “I don't know honey go back to sleep.” The child closed his brown eyes. “See what I mean he needs you.” “I am not going to talk about this right now.” More arguing and then. “John!” screeeee…. 

The world tilts and then crunch, crunch, crunch. Glass is flying someone is crying. We are spinning. Then stillness. “Liam… Liam honey are you ok.” The child in the back seat does not respond his eyes are shut and his small body is pale. “John, John, Liam is not waking up.” Tears mix with the blood. I turn to the driver side. Blood runs down his face his eyes are wide, mouth open like he is going to say something but in that moment I know he is gone. I am alone. 

I jolt up my sheets are wrapped around my body I throw them off me. Sweat runs down my face. These dreams are torture to me, yet they come back over and over and over again. I look at my clock and see it is five in the morning. I sit up and change my clothes once I have freshened up I checked up on Elios and Mira before heading down to the kitchen. 

Once there I started to make sandwiches for Ansel and anyone else that would eat them. After I had made two avocado ham sandwiches Eric came down the stairs. “Couldn't sleep” he asked. “No those damn dreams keep coming back.” I went to sit at the table offering him a cup of coffee mine already on the table. He sat down. 

“Well I know you'r not the only one.” He offered. I just stared in my coffee. “Do your dreams sometimes craft into something that makes it your fault.” He looked at me sadness in those brown eyes, just like my sons I look away. “Yes all the time and like you I just keep going forward for her.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “I think that's why most people go to this house, to move forward.” In my heart I agreed and knew that it was true everyone here was fighting for the future, sulking in the past would get us nowhere. 

“Want to help make lunches?” “I would love to.” He stands up and follows me to make lunches and maybe for awhile forget. The monsters in our heads.