Dead Attachment

Chapter Four : Self-Control

-FOUR-

SELF-CONTROL

Darling.

Even if it’s just black I see; just this black background like I’m in a big black hole; I know it’s my mom calling out to me.

Ever since I can remember, Mom called me that. Darling. It’s close to my name so it made me wonder if I’m hearing it wrong or Mom got my name wrong. I asked her once why she was calling me Darling instead of Darlene. She said I love  my Darling.

It’s not the answer I was looking for but ever since then, I’ve never asked her about it. I even like the sound of it. It’s my codename that only my Mom uses to call me, just like the way I use Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa. It’s pretty personal for Mom and I.

Darling.

                I’m not even in the background. It’s as if I really am there, seeing this blackness through my eyes. This strange dream started a few nights ago. When I woke up, I thought I dreamt of it because I still had a hangover with Mom’s accident. I thought it was just normal. Just another dream like when I used to dream that I was being chased by a T-REX around town or that I had wings that can lift me high up in the air but no. Ever since I dreamt of that dream, it haunted me the next nights after.

                No one knows yet, even Dad, of this strange dream that I’m having. At least I don’t scream at night. I just always find myself waking up, gasping, as if I was running in my dream.

                Frankly, because I know it’s my Mom, why would I be freaked out? I’m a bit glad that I still have this communication with her. That somehow I can still feel her presence through her voice.

                It makes me wonder now if she’s trying to tell me something that I have to know, that I’m too naïve to realize this something without her help.

                I love Mom and I miss her. So much. But what is it with this strange, consistent, dream?

                “Darlene and I had a walk around town and I think she’s pleased so far. Am I right, Darlene?” Grandma’s voice gradually becomes louder and clearer. I’m brought back to Earth, here at dinner, that I flinch so hard I accidentally rock the table. I almost tip my bowl of mushroom soup over. I had no idea I was thinking about it so hard.

                I look at Grandma who’s sitting in front of me while Dad is beside me, staring suspiciously at me. It kind of looks funny when he raises one his eyebrows. It doesn’t suite him.

                “Oh, excuse me?” I look at Grandma expectantly. “It’s just. . . I’m sorry if I wasn’t paying attention. I. . . uh. . . . was memorizing the town in my mind.” I stutter.

                Grandma suddenly smiles while delight fills her face. “Oh, I told you, son! This town has every reason for you to move here rather than to keep living in that—what’s that city again?”

                “New York.” Dad glumly replies.

                “NEW YORK! Oh that New York. I say them many lights at night hypnotize you.”

                “We’re doing great in New York, Ma.” Dad explains as Grandma still blabbers about how New York has way too many cars that no wonder many people get killed because of accidents just like Mom.

                “Ma!” Dad says, a bit embarrassed. “We’re fine in New York. It’s our home.”

                “I can’t really convince you to move here? You said you like it here.”