9 - Memories ??

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I stumbled back in the the dark abyss of my mind. Nothing felt the same. I couldn't feel my body, but when I looked down, I saw it there. But I was alone. No one else. I felt a ball in my throat as tears started to form. My knees felt weak and my vision went blurry.

Then the scene changed

A meadow of grass so green and a sky so blue. Fluffy, white cloud drifted lazily overhead. I felt my hand interlocked with someone's. When I looked over, they were just a silhouette. Someone I vaguely recognized. When they spoke, it was all fuzzy with a mix of accents. I could barely even understand what they said.

"Remember when we were kids?"

No, I didn't.

"Yeah," I was forced to reply.

"Mom and dad always told us to stay away from here," the silhouette said with a sad laugh. "'It is dangerous,' they always said," they sighed with a tinge of guilt. Or was it regret? They sat up, "just kind of wish I spent more time with them."

I was forced to sit up as well, "me too."

"I can still hear mom's laugh," the now-sad shadow whispered through tears. "And the smell of dad's coat when he came back from hunting." They looked at me slightly, "lucky you got to go with him. Mom was always worried."

I didn't remember. I tried.

"Ukie was always jealous that you got your own hunting gun for your birthday," the shadow said. "Mom said no to her."

A short silence.

"Then they came."

This can't be good.

"Those damn robbers that shot ma and pa dead with pa's own gun."

I felt sad.

But these weren't my memories.

"Do you not remember? Or care?"

"I do," I choked out.

The scene changed again.

Two tall shadows were yelling at each other while sometimes a slap rang out. Their words were distorted. Pain was throbbing through my veins and bones. Someone was trying to help me.

"Get up!" They hissed. "You know they'll hurt you more!"

I couldn't take my eyes off the fighting couple as I slowly stood up, following the slightly shorter shadow. We got to a room that smelled like maple syrup and forests. The shorter silhouette sat me on the bed with a very fuzzy blanket.

"Are you okay?" They asked. When I didn't answer, they said something extremely distorted. I couldn't even guess what they said.

"Don't worry about me, eh," I said, swallowing my anxiety. "Go check on—" Distorted, once again.

They hesitated before standing up, "if dad comes in, just yell."

Then, the world changed again.

It smelled like gunpowder and dirt. Explosions boom in the distance and yells in broken languages called out every which way.

"Please!" I could barely make out who said it. "Let me go! I won't tell anyone!"

I looked down at the struggling shadow. "I can't," I said. "I'm sorry, they're listening."

The scenes changed quicker.

"Papa! Papa!"

That was my voice. As a child.

I turned around and saw a small silhouette. Kneeling down, I opened my arms, "hey, rascal."

It was my father's voice.

The small shadow ran into my arms, "mama was scared about you again."

I chuckled, "when is she not?"

I sat up in my own bed, panting.

I was dream-walking again.

Feeling what they felt.

Other's dreams.

Time to write about it again.

I got out of bed and walked to my desk. I opened the bottom drawer and took out a leather-bound book. I sat in at my desk and flipped through a couple older entries.

Dream Number 117 - October 19, 20XX
I was in a forest with animals. Lots of animals. I was alone. Until there was a tall shadow who took me away.
They felt scared.

Dream. Number 142 - December 14, 20XX
I was running for my life. Down an endless hallway.
They felt scared and anxious.

I flipped to the next blank page and began to write.

Dream Number 152, January 30, 20XX

I wrote a quick description of each of the dreams, making sure to include which country I thought it was.

Once I finished, I checked the time. Three in the morning. I glanced at my closet before quickly shaking my head.

Now is not the time to get drunk.

I slipped back into bed, staring at the ceiling.

I don't want to feel their pain again. I broke my six-day streak of not sleeping thanks to vodka, rum, and crying.

And school.

Balancing taking care of my siblings, depression, my dream-walking, and now my sleeplessness.

I also haven't eaten in three days. My siblings are more important than me.

Words: 791

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