Forget- Me- Not

When I Awoke

“OUCH!”

I shrieked, as I hit my right arm when I fell from my bed. I snuffled the tears from my dreams as I realized that I was now back in reality. And not in that cursed dream.

I looked at my clock and found out that it was five o’ clock in the morning. I heard footsteps nearing the door. As I tried to recollect myself, my parents and brothers rushed to help me get up. My father lent a hand to assist me to sit in a chair, and began observing me for any bruises. Luckily, there are none.

Hey, for your information, I take care of my skin.

“Are you all right, Carrie?” My mother asked, her beatific features ruined by worried lines across her forehead. I tried to ignore the swelling pain of my head, and did my best to reply, “Um, yes, mom. My head aches, though.” I massaged my temples as I silently fumed inside. My mom nodded, and immediately went out to get some analgesic.

“Dad, could we get this over with?” My younger brother, James, yawned. “She’s been like this for weeks!” Phil, short for Philemon, my older brother, nudged James at the stomach. It almost made James puke and cry in pain. They both glared at each other. My father glanced up at them and looked at them sternly. “Stop it, James! Philemon!”

Oh, brothers…..

James, who has now recovered, just rolled his eyes and continued to let his breath moist up in the air. “Dad, it’s, like, five o’clock in the morning. Why do I even need to go here? Can’t I just go back to bed?” My father gazed at him, ready to tell him something when he started yawning too.

My mother returned, and she saw dad yawning. She chuckled, and said, “Well, it is five o’ clock in the morning.” She turned to me, and gave me the medicine. I swallowed it as I grimaced. I reached for the glass of water my mom offered, and was glad the bitterness of the drug ebbed away.

Then my smirking mother asked, “What time do your classes start?” “Not until seven thirty,” I answered. I glanced at mom, and realized that she still is sleepy.

She smiled at me and my brothers before saying, “I think Carrie’s okay now, so we may as well get our three hours of sleep back yet.” Then she ruffled my hair, stood up, and left together with father and my brothers.

When they left, I rolled myself back on my puffy bed. I grabbed my blanket and hid half of my body under the sheets. I tried to sleep again, but I couldn’t. I kept on rolling and tossing my pillows. It’s really been for weeks.

Well, yes, and it just keeps on bugging me.

I hurled my blanket away and sat up. I clasped my hands behind my head and crossed my feet from beneath. What is my dream really all about? What does it want to convey? I tried making guesses, but my entire hypothesis just doesn’t fit the picture. I’ve been struggling with it ever since summer has started.

But anyway, I attempted to relax by breathing, and as I did so, I smelled the sweet air just outside the window.

The view outside my window is breathtaking. Well, it’s a garden, actually. Green trees were all lined up to form a road dotted by pink and yellow germaniums that reached all the way to the family’s fountain. It looked like a scene in a movie.

The fountain was a statue of a girl wearing mid-nineteenth century clothes and was looking above. Its figure is strikingly picturesque and eye-catching. The lady’s dress is sculpted artistically and sophistically.

My mom often told me that it was our ancestor’s replica. Well to be exact, it was my great-great-great-great-grandmother. I thought it was a joke, but my mom showed me a portrait of her.