The Nightmare.

Yesterday started out wonderfully. I woke up early, got ready for a pool party, went to the pool party and had a blast with all of my friends. After that, I went home and walked to the nearest FYE store and bought the new 'The Used' CD, a game for Sibling (Ratatouille...or something like that...she beat it already), and the Special Edition of Titanic. Well, I watched thirty-five minutes of it before I had to go to dinner. It was alright...then I went to Onyx's house. It's always a blast there. We cleaned up a bit, talked..argued, rather about economics - I read, Onyx did the talking - and that went on for about an hour or so. Fun and games since I had gotten there.

Then, at 2-ish am, it was bed time. Sleep started out well...

Then I had the worst nightmare of my life.

It wasn't a nightmare in the sense I was frightened, but it was no dream either. I can assure you of that.

It starts out, my entire family - Mother, Father, Sibling and I - all aboard the Titanic, everything is white and clean...everyone is laughing and Father turns to me and hands me this little blue and white china dollhouse stove. It was beautiful, and only about three inches by four inches. He said it was his Grandmother's, and that he wanted me to have it. There was so much joy in his eyes...he's one of those people that knows everyone, and when he's happy, everyone's happy. When he's sad, everyone else is sad. He's just got one of those personalities, which, happened to transfer over into my dream.

A box of other little china figures were on the floor where I sat, a box with a crank sitting beside it. So, I put the little stove Father had given to me on the box with the crank. I stood up for a moment, then turned around and watched the little stove sink like quicksand into the box. I opened the little drawer, and saw the stove in puzzle pieces. Father stared at me, a frown on his lips, 'it's okay', he had said, 'we can just put it back together.' It barely brought a smile to my face, but I closed the little drawer anyway, a grinding sound coming to my ears. I opened the drawer again, and the pieces were gone. Another drawer had appeared under that one, so I opened it, hoping to see the little stove. There was nothing there except the little iron burners that had been on top. My little gift, Father's Grandmother's little China stove was gone.

The scene then changed drastically. Mother, Sibling and I are on the ground, in a patio type area. Not one of those little patios, with the tent covering, and a stone floor, no. The side of the house was bright white, there was no covering, and the ground was cement. But it was gigantic, gorgeous and all pure white.

Mother was humming softly to herself as she individually wrapped oatmeal cookies on sticks - like a lollypop cookie... - and tied the little baggies with bright red ribbons, so the plastic would stay on. She took one, and handed it to me, no smile on her porcelain looking face. She was my Mother, I knew it, but she seemed like a villain from a Disney movie. tall, thin, dark hair, white face and dark red lips. Keeping along with the white theme, she was wearing a white dress, a black fishnet looking corset around her waist. Sibling was by her side, a slight, sinister grin on her face.

'Give your Father the cookie,' Mother told me. I smiled and nodding, knowing exactly what it was, so caught up in the moment as I ran up the stone stairs and into the Master bedroom. There was Father asleep in the huge white four poster bed. He woke up when I came in and ran to the drawer to rip off the plastic coverings, leaving it, the ribbon and a few crumbs on the wooden surface before I ran to him. 'I made you a cookie, Dad!' I shouted, a smile on my face as I handed it to him. He smiled, and kissed my forehead, taking the cookie from me and eating it. The words rang through my head as I watched a look of disappointment fill his light blue eyes.

Mind you, my brain remembers every single detail about my Father and sticks them right in this dream, as if it were reality.

'Feeling choked up?' my Mother asked, her arms were crossed over her chest as she stood at the foot of the bed, Sibling standing right beside her, looking almost identical. Father looked at me, tears coming to my eyes as I looked from the wrapper on the table, to the bits of crumbs on the bed, Father's eyes welling up as he died.

I knew what I was doing. I knew what it was. I poisoned him. 'I made you a cooke. I did...'

That was probably the first time I've ever woken up crying. I woke up at 5:25 am, and stayed awake until 7:13, unable to go to sleep, Father's disappointed eyes looking straight at me. No matter what I did, I couldn't shake the nightmare. I went downstairs quietly, got a drink, wet my face, and went back to Onyx's room. Everything I thought of seemed to link directly back to memories of my life with my Dad. Which made me cry again. I don't know how I got to sleep again...but I did until eleven.

It all seemed so real, the wave of shock that ran through my nightmare self, the fear, the pain of killing my own Father...I couldn't believe it. Why would I even dream up that? God knows I love that man with all my heart...why would I kill him? I don't understand it.

And it wasn't like I could goo walk to his room, and wake him up to talk with him or anything...I wasn't at home. Worst sleep ever. The worst. Made me understand how mortal people are...and that understanding hurts.

Sweet Dreams,
-Jereality