skinblade

Start from the beginning and read Dream #1

She still had cancer as a spirit.

Delilah could see it inside of her mother. It looked like stretched out cotton balls. Soft and white.

“It’s not polite to stare,” her mother said.

“Oh, mommy,” Delilah blurted and began to laugh. Her mother glided closer to her and pretended to tickle her tummy which sent Delilah in to a giggle fit.

The light around her mother was brilliant and she floated in the air like a beautiful kite in the wind. Delilah’s eyes began to tear up as her mother began to float away from her.

“Not yet, mommy. Don’t go!”

“Oh, Dee, I have to go. You take care of your daddy. He’s meant for great things. Don’t forget – ”

“When he hits me he doesn’t mean it,” she grumbled.

“That’s right, Dee. You and Mike need to stay close to him. I know it’s hard for you to understand – ”

“I do,” she interrupted. “I do.”

She was laying in bed. The sheets tossed to the side and her pillow on the floor. The sun was just beginning to peak in to her window. Its blaring rays were blinding. She reached down for her pillow to put it over her head and that’s when she saw him sitting in the rocking chair.

“You do what?” he said.

“Nothing.” She must’ve said some things aloud that she had said in her dreams. What else had he heard?

Her father stood up and made his way to her slowly. She cringed and felt completely vulnerable without the sheet to cover her up, without Mike there to defend her. He sat on the bed next to her. As close as he could get. “Deedle Bug, I’m sorry I hit you last night. You know I – ”

“I know. You don’t mean it. It’s okay, I know,” the words flew fast and bluntly. She wanted this to be over as soon as possible. She knew the routine and couldn’t stand this part of her mornings. The apology.

“I made breakfast.” He patted her on the leg. She flinched. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

He was sincere, she knew that, but she also knew that it would happen again. There was a great sadness in him. A sadness that drove him to drink and made the loss of his wife twist into something wicked and wild that lashed out at whoever was near.

Delilah had tried to take the sadness away before with her magic but it made her sick inside. And when she dreamed of her mother in that sick state, it changed her mother’s spirit. Her mother became a deep black void. A sucking chasm of pain and suffering. Delilah was almost pulled in to the void that night and she knew that if she would have gone in, she would have never returned.

It took a few nights for her mother’s spirit to return to it’s brilliant white fluorescence. And when she did return, her mother told her to leave the sadness in her daddy. That it was beyond her abilities to fix him because a sadness like that could not be fixed. Not unless he wanted it so.

Delilah got out of bed and got dressed. She grabbed a pair of socks from her dresser and sat on the rocking chair where her father had eerily been watching her sleep. As she put the socks on, she noticed some bruising on her feet. Mirror Magic, she called it. When she fixed Mike’s shoes the universe had to balance itself out somehow. It was painful but it was worth seeing the look on Mike’s face the night before. She was lucky it was only bruising. It would heal over time.

Continue reading: Dream #4 - Pill Popping Devil Worshippers