To each, their Own Dreams

Jay

You've lost your way I see it now, you've called upon my wrath.

You may not scream, you may not move, and tears make not a path.

Hear the bells, your homebound song,

sing and walk along.

Remember this if you can,

Time and tide waiteth no man.

"No fair Andrea! Gimme the ball." He had just met this individual and yet for some reason had come to loathe her existence in the few minutes that followed.

"If you want the ball, come take it from me." the five-year-old girl replied, her eyes had an absurdly bright sparkle. When she was with this ridiculously awkward kid her eyes usually turned that way from that day onwards.

"Fine!" Jamie exclaimed with indignation, as he continued the pursuit.

An hour and a half later he slumped down under the apple tree, followed by Andrea a few moments later. Jamie was too exhausted to lift his arm and snatch the ball. He decided to spare his arms the effort.

They rested against the roots of the tree, staring out at the shafts of blue nestled between its leaves.

"Jamie. . . I don't like it."

"Huh?"

"Your name. Change it."

Jamie blinked a few times, turning his head to face her. 

"Huh?"

"I said I don't like your name. I think Jake sounds better, or maybe Peter, maybe even Will. But Jamie." She then proceeded to make a retching sound, providing emphasis to her statement.

"It's my name, there's no way I'm changing it." Jamie huffed. 'There was no way he was going to let this puny, annoying, really quick, loud human get the better of him.' He thought with determination.

"Jay sounds nice doesn't it?"

He widened his eyes and his face began to redden a little. Andrea noticed that and chuckling she jumped to her feet.

"Hi, Jay! Nice to meet you!" She grinned.

"MY NAME IS JAMIE!"  he wailed.

Then the two of them ran back to the house.

Her in the lead chanting "JAY" amid giggles.

Him following close behind her heels, wailing.

Somehow the name stuck.

Somehow he still hadn't caught up.

                                                                                         . . .

"Jay!" her voice crackled through the microphone.

"If you're hearing this, it means I'm probably gone. Well, either that or you tried listening to my voicemail in which case if you'd be wise to put the receiver down and GO HOME. . . .  I'm kidding, if you're hearing this I'm definitely gone." The voice declared humorously.

Jamie wasn't laughing.

"Jay, I'm far away now. You need to understand that. I'm going rogue. Don't follow me, please. ." The voice pleaded. Jamie could sense the voice come close to breaking. And then there was silence, a long unending silence.

Jamie balled his hands into fists and prepared to storm out the front door. Halfway to the door, the voice continued.

"That being said, I think a few of my confessions are in order." The voice exhaled deeply and then continued.
"Jamie, forgive me. . . I- I'm."  The voice trailed off into a sobbing sound.

"I'm an h-horrible person, Jay." the voice wailed, "He was a coward, you didn't deserve this. This mess isn't yours, those scars on your feet don't belong to you."

There was a long silence as Jamie took in the last bit of information.

Andrea continued, " Your mom is a psychopath, she was mentally shaken when your. . . when Jamie's father died in the accident, eleven years ago. She doesn't work at the pharmacy. That's what she's been told to believe, my mom drops her to the asylum, where she spends her day. She remembers her instincts, how to cook, how to feel. And every night shes sent back home, then brought back the next day."

Jamie stood motionlessly as the voice went on, "The reason she's been lashing out at you is shes missing her daily tranquillizer shots every night. The person in charge of handing her the shots. . . decided it was easier to run away. Those Sundays that she finds peace at the adoration chamber? She never goes there. My mom waits next to the chamber with a tranquillizer shot. She usually forgets little things due to the high the shot induces."

***

"Let's go home?" She asked, blatantly ignorant to the fact that only nine hours ago she'd torn up his legs. Jamie nodded, blatantly ignorant to the fact as well.

***

The voice continued, "The reason you don't remember the drawings on your wall is that you never made them, he did. The reason you can't remember your father's death is that he never died, your dreams, your memories, your life these past seven months, they aren't your own."

Taking a long sigh, Andrea finally uttered, "Jamie Kale, you're in the wrong universe."

  Jamie didn't say a word. His features were cold, lifeless. The scars on his feet started to hurt a lot more now. His arms hung loosely by his side. His knees slowly touched the floor, followed by the rest of his body, as he crumpled into a heap.

And then he wept. He hadn't cried when they branded him an amnesiac, he hadn't cried when they told him his father was dead, he hadn't cried when his mother tore the skin off his legs with leather, he hadn't cried when the uncle went missing.

And now he wept. With no one by his side, no mother to console him, no best friend to fall on, no father to trust. He wept alone. The doors didn't shut the wailing, the blinds didn't hide the scene, he screamed and wailed, kicked and thrashed, his nails clawed on the floor snapping bit by bit, blood dripping from his fingernails. He screamed again, louder and louder. His bloodstained arms clutching his head, pulling at his hair. Andreas faint scent still lingered around the room.

He hadn't slept the night, and exhaustion was beginning over. He cried himself to sleep, amid a pool of blood, sweat and tears.

That was the day Jamie Kale broke.

You've lost your way I see it now, you've called upon my wrath.

You may not scream, you may not move, and tears make not a path.

Hear the bells, your homebound song,

Now sing and walk along.

And remember this if you can,

Time and tide waiteth no man.