SHATTERED!!!

Chapter 8

I was not Joseph the dreamer, But I don't joke with dreams. Sarah , my beloved died just as I'd dreamt a few weeks before she met with an accident, at her own corridor,one awful Friday. I hate seeing blood not to talk of dead people. I could remember the yelling of Thomas,her first love that fateful day as if he'd lost something he'd never see again. But, has he really not? Nothing could ever be painful than seeing the end of joyful motherhood. Not even my boss'fall. Her corpse was carried in by elders,whose eye balls were red and heavy upon the mourning of such a gelm. The grown up kids around were ordered to be kept off the sighting of a dead. I was dragged all in by mom who knew I'm allergic to seeing corpse ,yet I muttered to myself" Tom, you have seen it". God knows how long I got sleepless even after Sarah got buried. Then I wondered how really could the elders who maintained total contact with the corpse indeed would cope to be balance even when the little I saw almost snatched me outer earth. But trust me, those men are murderers. They remained untouched and unshaken despite their closet lock with the dead. "Who does that", I asked myself with the miniest retort left in me. To whom really would I utter I've dreamt the death of such a generous woman even before her death? I rather kept it to myself. Never had I even known till then that I too can keep things to my storage without utmost abruption by in-secrecy. "Tom, you're growing" I proudly stroke my bear and utter to myself.

My dream last night wasn't of wealth or greatness but fright for the loss of my beloved. Things got weird in the dream scene as she kept running off a shadow. The  breeze billowing trees around utmostly beat life outside of her but as seen, she wouldn't wait a minute to think than to run. Her soggy dress and frail feet duly complained and requested a rest but she wouldn't wait. Why she stuck frightened wasn't known until a fast shadow got seen. I tried to her her chase the shadow but it was hers. I wanted to appease the shadow but it won't wait. Maybe, negotiation would have settled the course but she won't wait. why would someone be so afraid of her shadow,I  ruminated all to earn no response. She badge upon a so tall bridge and awaited a mighty wind escaping forest and driving at her,just at the tip of slightest place of fall. I could not but be the hero of my dream,I imagined, though i wasn't awared that it was all along a dream. I jumped to flight of my toe and stressed hands out to grab her from having a huge fall . But I missed the grasp. And rather than saving her,I pushed her all down. Her white wedding gown-like garment billows through my face as I watch steadily the great fall in pain, owning nothing to offer thañ scream outer the dream Land with my body loaded with rinse of sweat and panic. I looked around as if to see someone to cuddle. I heard cuddling chases fright and appease souls sometimes. But who would an absolute single cuddle than his idle pillow? I tried to rewind the plot of my dream but had difficulty in doing so. That's definitely not usual. "Something isn't right", I said to myself, all to check the closest wall closet wall clock strolling on one o'clock (1am) midnight. Midnight dreams don't trail amiss without a mark. Mama Tom often ring that to my hearing while at home but it sounded then always to me a daily routine announcement.

Totally was I lost in thought of the so weird dream had when suddenly I got spanked with abrupt vibration of my bed shelf. It was Mama Tom calling at such hour of the day. I got stuck with fright, wondering what the call must be all about. "I got woken by dream of you. Pray and rebuke a regret of loosing yourself", Mama Tom uttered. She wouldn't say more of frightful cases all to bear within my fright and pail. That was exactly how she does and the most heart ache I had about her. She enjoyed nursing bothersome affinities all alone as if I do range out complaint to bear with her.

My dream, the time, the breeze in my room and my mother's call simply showcased something was not right. But to whom must I complain? I hate supernaturals .it sounded to me a superstition and thence I found them quite difficult or even impossible to believe. Witches and wizzards are casts meritable to be seen in movies, not to be accustomed as realistic in the real world.so, I thought. Hence I grew through notion to bury mentalism or idealism all to embrace realism. I'm though religious but not dogmatic with whatever it is I believe in. Sometimes, I subject my view to empirical constraints. And some other time, I'd be the world best rationalist. This non consistent self apprehension exposed me solely to be self dependent as spiritualism got shallowed in my mind's realm. " Pray", she ordered, but I did not. I was only perturbed.
I was not bothered for long. Mine was to sleep and wake to see the day light. Seeing the day light too would not worth more than having the daily bread. Days counted more and more as I'd assumed my dream to be so feebly dispersed. "Dreams are foolish". I gladly retorted. Getting more engrossed and close to my dear *Kyle*. She was more like a queen unapproachable. Her beauty entailed me nothing but fright. Fear of status or class she might had held. Even no one could ever for once have imagined how loveable she is. "You are beautiful", i said once to her. And her reply was, "so so lots of people say". Saying things common attracts boredom most time. And that's why old things should better be said in a new way.

I could remember the day she said "yes". To love they say betters nothing than be loved. I'd almost relinquished my notion for chase. Perhaps I'd cast all the spells I could. I had nothing but she had lot. Daughter of heartless community leader whose best to give the world was her. I hated him to some extent. How to let her know about the hatred was the problem. Even Kyle knew her father could be annoying all with regular casts and retorts of fuss for politics. He would sit me down sometime, narrating more of eloquent rotteness of the nation to me as if I've gotten solutions secreted in me. How to escape those irrelevant chats has been my utmost problem. I can't though tell him to keep quiet, yet I can't discern intense to hear him out either. I could remember how long it took me then to win his interest. He was never the one I long to love, yet his reproach and downcast-ing gaze at me whenever I trail through to check his daughter was one which solely defined me as retched and one unworthy of farther betterment. He underrated me. He saw in me no future. But who knows what really the future got in stock? He might be right anyways.

Kyle's dad drinks alot. He wouldn't even mind to care of secluded place to. He looked quite serious facially and that goes a long way to predispose that he's a disciplinarian.
"Who cares about that ", I said to myself once. He was never the one I kept coming for afterall. I had that  surdid courage that he can do me no harm having kept in mind my mother's usual percifying proverb "He who licks the honey care less axe strike". The Proverb was a pledge raided often until I had the slap of my life one day from him. "Do not come here ever " he exclaimed, pointing at Kyle and regarding her to being a kid. Even Kyle knows what she likes. Her dad's slap was though of evil, but it gave me the bestest chance of my life. Maybe she'd been nursing through the thought to vent me her favorable reply or not, but the pity I sensed out of her sight as retract of response to her father's assault got us attached and together.
People do woo with flowers. Some with letters while some other with fragrance of ointments, presents and word of enticement. But my own will doesn't trail through same path as others'. I am the man whose love advances got acquainted through slaps and insults. Better for me though. I won't ever complain.
Of all my mini time spent with Kyle after returning from work, all her attitude was a yes for me. I was conveniently cool with them. All in exclusion of fact that she smokes. I was never used to that. I discussed that with her though. Even for the sake of love we had, she promised to change, yet she would not. Habit don't escape its addict easily, so they say.

***
"Toofan" and "mard" unveiled activism against oppression and bad habits and I've always seen more movie heroes conquering hiccups radically or calmly. So I counted her habit a phase of seasonal plot which indeed I might stoop to conquer at denouement. I'm best at purgation of emotional retorts. I gave love in full and hoped for better future but the financial cuts of our linkage was administered by since she's financially independent than myself. Except that than paying, I lease out cassette most times for her free of charge. Funny, isn't? But to whom must we complain for balance of responsibilities? Actually we did not ever complain. We were up and good with each other.
Mama Tom knew about her not long enough after we were together. I still can't stop imagining how old parents manage most times to read right innate insight of their children even when the latter seem home or so far away. Just as if they'd swallowed a mind reader. "You sounded disturbed Tom" ,  she said just on call after I met Kyle afresh.
"Female?", she swiftly asked awaiting the response of a boy who was quite shocked of how on earth the witchcraft in his mom could have unmistakably read what really was wrong with him. I couldn't talk then. I was just stuck. But the reap of the fruit mama Tom then had foreseen blossomed more than I could ever imagine. Kyle than myself got attached to mom. She sends money home to cater her thirst than even I, her son could ever imagine. "There's nothing wrong in in laws catering themselves ", I gracefully percify myself vehemently and never was i wrong.