Proper-Gander
Member
I'm sitting in a car I've never seen before.
My mother is at the wheel, I'm in the passenger seat.
She's blind. Her eyelids seem glued together and somehow I know that her sockets are empty. It concerns me slightly.
There is a man sitting in the back seat.
He speaks to himself but neither of us can hear him.
My mother is singing loudly as she drives. I'm more concerned by what she's singing than her blind driving.
The man looks a bit dirty, though only I the observer can see him. My dream self remains unaware of his presence.
Slowly, I become my dream self, and I can hear what he's saying.
He's mocking my mother. Scoffing and calling her a fool.
At first I'm shocked and feel slightly threatened by his presence. Then I immediately agree with him. She is a fool.
The man suddenly takes on an ethereal presence. Nothing about his appearance changes, but I perceive him differently.
He's suddenly more clean-cut. His clothes seem nicer.
He's strong. Very strong.
And he knows.
Suddenly I'm 12 years old. My mother seems much younger as well. I'm beginning to have trouble recognizing her. Then I realize that it's been this way since the beginning.
The man is whispering in my ear now.
Get out of the car. You know she's a fool. Don't let her kill you. You're worth more than she is.
The last statement makes me angry. I turn to hit him, but as soon as I turn to face him I can see him smiling, and I realize that I agree with him.
My mother starts rambling. Religious dribble I've never heard fall from her lips she now repeats over and over. Passionately. Angrily. With so much fear that her hands shake.
Suddenly, I can not recognize her anymore. She's a stranger. Sitting next to me, screaming and spitting and crying.
Devil. Devil. Make it go away. Stop. I can't see it.
Then she's talking to me. Begging me. There's something akin to hope in her closed-eyed visage.
Do something. I love you. Do something. Don't leave me.
I'm almost too numb to feel. Before I can say anything, she's talking again. Reassuring herself.
I don't need to see. We're fine. We'll get there and everyone will be happy. Happy together. We can do it. You're with me. We're okay if we're together.
I know she's going to reach for my hand and I wish I could leave. Then I'm gone. Somewhere outside of the car, where I can not see myself or anywhere else.
I'm no longer in that place I once knew, but I no longer understand what is - only what I thought there was.
Somehow I know the man is still in her backseat.
My mother is at the wheel, I'm in the passenger seat.
She's blind. Her eyelids seem glued together and somehow I know that her sockets are empty. It concerns me slightly.
There is a man sitting in the back seat.
He speaks to himself but neither of us can hear him.
My mother is singing loudly as she drives. I'm more concerned by what she's singing than her blind driving.
The man looks a bit dirty, though only I the observer can see him. My dream self remains unaware of his presence.
Slowly, I become my dream self, and I can hear what he's saying.
He's mocking my mother. Scoffing and calling her a fool.
At first I'm shocked and feel slightly threatened by his presence. Then I immediately agree with him. She is a fool.
The man suddenly takes on an ethereal presence. Nothing about his appearance changes, but I perceive him differently.
He's suddenly more clean-cut. His clothes seem nicer.
He's strong. Very strong.
And he knows.
Suddenly I'm 12 years old. My mother seems much younger as well. I'm beginning to have trouble recognizing her. Then I realize that it's been this way since the beginning.
The man is whispering in my ear now.
Get out of the car. You know she's a fool. Don't let her kill you. You're worth more than she is.
The last statement makes me angry. I turn to hit him, but as soon as I turn to face him I can see him smiling, and I realize that I agree with him.
My mother starts rambling. Religious dribble I've never heard fall from her lips she now repeats over and over. Passionately. Angrily. With so much fear that her hands shake.
Suddenly, I can not recognize her anymore. She's a stranger. Sitting next to me, screaming and spitting and crying.
Devil. Devil. Make it go away. Stop. I can't see it.
Then she's talking to me. Begging me. There's something akin to hope in her closed-eyed visage.
Do something. I love you. Do something. Don't leave me.
I'm almost too numb to feel. Before I can say anything, she's talking again. Reassuring herself.
I don't need to see. We're fine. We'll get there and everyone will be happy. Happy together. We can do it. You're with me. We're okay if we're together.
I know she's going to reach for my hand and I wish I could leave. Then I'm gone. Somewhere outside of the car, where I can not see myself or anywhere else.
I'm no longer in that place I once knew, but I no longer understand what is - only what I thought there was.
Somehow I know the man is still in her backseat.