Steph it was all a dream... Part 1

As I gazed outside the window, the lights dimmed around the objects that reflected back into my eyes. I saw the cars parked in a line in front of the garage, the messed up garden and a broken swingset but I daydreamed of the moon shining on my lake and seeing herself kick at the water with my "son" by my side. I looked back into my room and saw that the 4 walls surrounding me, the same ones I constantly fought with because they reiterated the thoughts time and time again that I didn't want to hear, the same ones that would stare back at me as though I had nothing more to hide from and prove to them, the same ones that judged my fears and dreams and swirled them into one. I was hurt as the thoughts meshed together and I gazed outside the window again. I looked at the cherry tree whose leaves were falling onto the cars in her backyard and all I could think of was the reality I wanted to live. The same reality that I won't have for years to come.

I tossed over, glared out my window and realized reality didnt set in... It was just a dream. Sigh.

I stared at my ceiling, looking at the fan go around, making its whirring noises and eventually the walls spoke to me.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? You told yourself 18 meant gone. You had counted the days since you were 10. Why are you still here?"
"I cant afford to leave..."
Scared, I turned over and they called me again.
"You're a punk, you'll make it fine. Leave."
"I cant leave now. Im in the middle of school, and I dont want to leave my friends. I dont want to leave him." I turned over again and glared at the walls that stared me down. They know. I can't hide from them. I tried to get up from my bed for some water and they held me down. They closed in on me and stayed on top.
"You're not to move." They said.
Punches started being thrown, but they kept holding me back, my breathing was getting faster, panting harder as I fought for air and fought to move away! Or at least sit up, but they wouldn't let me. They caught my hands and pulled me to sit up. Asking this time instead of telling me not to move. My eyes pleaded. I wanted to run. I did not want to be there. I laid back down and closed my eyes again. I opened them and saw a dirt road.

The dirt road was surrounded by fields all around. Trees up ahead and as my vision took everything in, a voice called out to me:
"Mami. Are we there yet?"
The engine strained and woke me up from the thoughts that raced through my mind.
Shift.
I looked for the source of the voice and on my right, a little stranger was in my car. A little stranger who called me "Mami." My mind raced as it tried to contain itself, paying attention to the roars of the engine and figure out whose child, not mine... was this. He was beautiful. Caramel skin, curly black hair, eyebrows like mine, lips and nose like mine but those eyes... Those eyes so familiar to me. Scared me of a ghost from my past. He was still in my heart. But my heart suffered as it struggled to register whose child it was. The eyes. An exact reminder of a past I wanted to forget. I drove faster and faster through the trees and reached the house that sat on the lake that I had seen not long before. I came to a sudden stop and asked my "son" if he were hungry. He stared into my eyes and said "Mami, thats a dumb question." He took my keys and ran into the house laughing, looking back as though wanting me to chase him. I laid back in the seat of my Jeep and looked up. The sky stared at me. The sun setting as the moon was beginning to shine at me, laughing as though it knew something I clearly was unaware of.
"Mami, Im hungry! Can I eat my Jello now?"
"Go ahead."

My tears swarmed down, each one racing to reach down my chin and onto my neck. That beautiful child was mine but there was something... SOMEONE... clearly missing. I took it all in with a deep breath and moved into the house. I looked around in this home that was obviously mine. In my kitchen, chrome handles and appliances, utensils and plates that were once my mother's, a counter I remembered fixing myself, along with my dad and grandfather. As I took this all in, I heard my "son" call out to someone... in SPANISH.

"Abuelo!!! Buelo! Papi!-- Mami, where is Buelo?"
I looked at my "son" in disbelief at the person he clearly loved who he was looking for. I wondered myself where was this entity my "son" referred to as "Buelo."
"Mami..." He said as he tugged my hand in his, "Buelo left me. I told you to hurry up to get home."
I looked into his eyes, those eyes that kept me from taking in his beauty, they reminded me of what was missing but I still didnt know. Or rather understand.

I heard a rumble come up the road and gazed out the kitchen window. My "son" ran outside and I saw someone who clearly shouldn't have been there. My mother's father with my own father and his father. I understood he was calling now; his different grandparents. That child was blessed. He climbed into my dad's arms. The reception was one I never would've thought to experience with my eyes. He held onto my "son" with so much love, love I hadn't encountered in so long. I stared at the many pairs of eyes that stared at me full of questions.

My "son" ran back to me tugging my dad with him who was followed by my grandfathers. My mother's father appearing of almost 100 years with the little bit of his hair white as snow, his eyes filmy and glossed over revealing his age. His face full of wrinkles that came with age. I looked into his eyes and helped him into the house. Greeted him with a hug and served him a cup of coffee. My other grandfather, still looking as though he was still 50, hair dyed jet black, with his age, shocking to believe he was truly much older. I took in his appearance as I served his cup of coffee. The man still had his strength, his looks, reminding me how both my grandfathers, men so vain... It made me question whether or not my non-conceit told a story of its own.

"Buelo, it's your birthday, I want cake."
Chiming in after my "son"'s comment, "No, Papito, you just had Jello. Later, after dinner, remind me to give you a piece."
I looked at my dad, who looked nothing of a man who just turned 50, reminded me of a much younger man who although loved me, constantly made me feel inferior. But the look he gave to my "son" was one full of pride.

"Jaymi, traeme mas cafe, why dont you?"
That kid scooted along with a smile across his face. He couldn't be any older than 5. I decided to go help Jaymi with the pot of coffee. There was no way, I was going to risk him getting burned. I helped him with the mug and he gave me a kiss. This kid was definitely a reminder and my mind wouldn't dare to give him a name.

I excused myself to explore the rest of my home. It was beautiful. From the living room to the kitchen and from the stairs to my bedroom on the 3rd floor. I walked into my room, which lied a man. He rolled over. Scared I would wake him, I walked back out. WHY WAS THERE A MAN ON MY BED?

I walked over to the other rooms. Someone who looked like a much older version of my mom stood in front of the mirror with a little girl. She was no older than 2 years old.
"Mami!!! Look at what Mama did to my hair!"

I stared at this child, porcelain skin, hair the color of chestnut, with those same eyes Jaymi has. Those same eyes, reminiscent of that ghost. I looked away at the precious looking girl who was fascinated with what my mother had done to her hair. I looked around and felt a sense of loss.
"Mami," I asked my own mother, "Where's Abuela?"
Her face went somber as she answered, "Honey, she passed the week after Bea was born."

Bea? Jaymi? WTF? I woke up again, this time my heart pounding with my pillow drenched in tears. I looked at the walls again as they laughed at me.
"Is that what you think of at night? Such a scared little girl." They taunted.

I had no reply. I stood up to leave and felt that weight again on my chest and shoulders. I turned over forcing myself awake. This was not a dream. It couldn't be. I was back in the room with the man on my bed. He held me down and pulled me closer to him... He was hard. He was strong. He was not letting me go. Sigh.

I kissed his lips and tried to get a better look at his face. He rolled me over and spooned me. Whispered in my ear something I couldn't understand and gently kissed my neck. I stared straight ahead and saw my bedroom window overlooked the lake. The lake was so beautiful with the glare of the moon reflecting off the water. I pulled him closer. If he wanted to hug me, then he was going to hug me tighter. I refused for him to let me go.

The door shrieked and the little girl appeared with watered, filmy eyes and sobs lodged in her throat.
"What's wrong, baby?
"Buelo told me the 'cuco' was coming for me!" She broke out in sobs and the man let me go. He got up and walked to our bathroom. I held my daughter close and comforted her explaining the monster was not real and rocked her back to sleep. I sang lullabies as this little girl laid comfortably on her bed now. I walked back to the room and looked at the man. His eyes so familiar but his face just a shadow... His eyes held so much pain and happiness. It was a crossroads in the maze that were his eyes. He pulled me onto him when I got close enough to the bed, where he whispered something obviously sweet enough to make me blush and giggle.

He turned to me, holding me tight and grazing his lips on the back of my neck, he asked, "Is Bea ok?"

I woke up, again, this time to the sounds of the TV recounting the news. I looked around my walls and bed. Where was the lake house? Where was my family? Bea and Jaymi? My parents and grandfathers??? I walked to the bathroom and as I showered, I wanted to know... Who was that man?

I hope you enjoyed. The continuation will come later. =)