I Dream

I swear I'm not a religious writer, but this is another true past influenced story.

“I Dream”

There I lay in tears once again, on my belly because my back, butt and neck were bruised from the beating with the belt. “Why God Why?” I cried, I closed my eyes. I heard footsteps as they walked gently across the room, but it wasn't anyone I knew, the steps were different, they were faint, I looked to the door and there was noone there. I closed my eyes again, partially in fear, but also to see if I could still hear the steps. The steps stopped at the end of my bed, then I felt the comforting feeling of someone you care for sit down on the edge of the bed. I had no reason to feel comfort, I should be afraid, but I knew this was the way I should feel, it was good. A hand that didn't exist in reality rested gently on my leg and I heard a voice I hadn't heard in 5 years since my Mother passed.

“Jeffy” it said in an almost whisper “Everything will be ok”

My fear passed, as did my anger, my pain, my tears. I felt nothing but the joy of knowing someone cared. It was after this the dreams started though. I would dream of my sister who also passed in that wreck 5 years now past, she would speak to me and the words would seem like nonsense.

“Jeff, listen carefully” she'd tell me “the cat is on the stove”

Then days later I'd hear the words in my wakened life “the cat is on the stove” and something big would happen, I'd find a dollar, or “the door fell on him” and I'd stop just before the car sped around the corner. I always just knew that when I heard in real life what I'd heard in those dreams I was meant to stop and take note.

These weren't the only dreams I had now though, no the first one of the other dreams happened around Christmas that year. In this dream I was at a funeral, an old man I knew vaguely sat next to me and he told me it was his funeral. It was ok he said to look in the coffin, he wouldn't bite me. He told me his name and we discussed his life, then he took me on a tour of his home. The next day, I was home alone when the phone rang.

“Jeff is your Dad home” my Aunt Tina said from the other end of the line.

“No he's out” I said

“Tell him to call me when he gets home” I could hear the tears in her voice now

“Ok I will”

When Dad returned I said “Dad call Aunt Tina, Great Grandpa died”

You see, nobody told me he died, I knew, because Great Grandpa told me he died. This happened several times throughout my life, always a week or two before they'd pass a family member visited my dreams and we sat through their funeral, we'd discuss their life and we'd smile, never tears, never fears. I tried once or twice to warn them, Grandpa Bonasse when he passed had just had a physical, he was fine I was told. I don't question the dreams, I don't attempt to stop the death, it's inevitable.

One other thing happened after my mother's visit. I no longer felt the sting of the belt, oh it left bruises and I wouldn't feel good if I sat afterward. I just didn't feel it as my stepmother beat me, the first time I made the mistake of laughing as it happened and she broke the belt on my back as she used more and more force. I learned though to pretend I felt the pain, to scream out, to flinch, but I no longer felt the pain in my flesh that I had before. I had won the battle of flesh, she could not inflict pain physically upon me. Now, when I dream, I dream of the love of a mother so strong she came back even in death to conquer her son's hurting heart.