You dont remember me
You will. Im waiting for you. You left, and I didnt want you to leave. You hurt me and Im sad. I loved you
Cant you see what Ive done for you? Ill be waiting
At the hedge where the sweet red berries grow
I wont let you leave me again
I snapped awake, lying in my bed, cold sweat running dripping down my face. It was that dream again, that voice. I dont remember seeing anything in the dream, just this young girls voice, saying something like that. Ive been having it for god knows how long. I cant remember when it started. It seems like its always been there. Every morning I wake up, and I hear those words. At the hedge where the sweet red berries grow. I just wish I knew what it meant.
I sat up in bed and wiped my face off. The moonlight coming through the crack between the shades told me it was still the middle of the night, kind of a blessing and a curse, I guess. My throat felt parched, so I figured it was as good a time as any to go get a drink of water. I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and sat in silence for a few moments, half still disoriented from waking up suddenly from REM sleep and half creeped out from that same dream. I shook some focus into myself and got out of bed.
It was summer and I was back living at home with my parents. I had misplaced my alarm clock somewhere in the transition from moving from dorm to home, so Ive been judging time by light through the window and early-rising parents. Didnt think I would spend my summer getting up at 7am everyday, but Im too lazy to get a new alarm clock.
I must have woken somebody up, because a crack of light was showing beneath the door of my parents room. I wasnt going to wait around, but my timing was imperfect; my mother came through the door just as I was passing by, barely awake and dressed in that horrid lime green bathrobe she loves, her hair a mess. She yawned wide and rubbed sleep from her eyes as I just stood there, waiting for her to ask exactly what I knew she was going to ask
David, she managed through a yawn, what are you doing up? Cant sleep? she yawned again. This was starting to get contagious.
I yawned myself, as I really couldnt help myself having watched my mother do it three times. No, I said, scratching the top of my head, Im thirsty. I need to get a drink of water.
She yawned yet again and nodded. Okay, I was just up and I heard you get up, so
she trailed off and gave me an odd look, Mike, are you growing a goatee? It looks good on you. I never noticed it before.
Apparently, I hadnt either. What? I rubbed my chin, and indeed there was a nice patch of itchy stubble, only it felt as if it had been there for a good few weeks. I knew my parents were rather oblivious and I knew I grew facial hair fast, but I think that would have been noticeable. I was a bit too tired to do much more than go along with it. Y-yeah
I decided to go for a new look, I guess. I was lying, but what could I say? It was the middle of the night.
My mother just nodded in understanding and yawned one last time before turning around. Okay. Just turn off all the lights and make sure the sink isnt dripping. Good night, she said amidst her final yawn, returning to her room and shutting the door behind her.
I suddenly had more important things then quenching my thirst at the moment, and I dashed to the bathroom to look at this overnight-goatee. I shut the door and turned on the light, and after adjusting to the sudden brightness I got a good look at this real goatee. It wasnt bad looking, to be perfectly honest; I actually looked really good with it. It was neatly trimmed and matched the dark color of my hair. I didnt have a problem with it there so much as I had a problem with the fact that it had gotten there overnight. I just rubbed over it in astonishment, forgetting entirely that I had gotten out of bed to get a drink of water. I just shook my head and went back to my room. It wasnt until I had lain back in bed and was just about to fall back asleep that I had realized something.
Did mom just call me Mike?
Are you starting to remember yet? No? You will. I like the way your hair matches the color of your eyes. You really look the way I want you to. Dont ever change. Ever.
It was 7am. I could tell because my dad was the first up. He has really heavy footsteps and even the heaviest sleepers can stir when he walks by. I hadnt slept really well the rest of the night anyway, and I didnt feel like getting much more sleep. I figured it was time to get up and start looking for a summer job anyway. Had to buy that new alarm clock.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and shuffled out of bed. My hair felt greasy and I figured it was a good time for a shower. Best part of waking up is cold water running down your butt. Well, not really, but it was shower time.
I passed my mother in the hall on the way to the bathroom and she just looked at me with really narrow eyes, like she was analyzing me. Steve, shave that goatee. It doesnt suit you. You wont get hired anywhere with that sloppy mess hanging from your chin. Now get to it! she said sternly, pointing a finger to the bathroom before ushering me in that direction.
I was bewildered. My mother hasnt acted like this ever, not even when I was a kid, let alone being home for the summer after my first year of college. She shut the door behind me and I could hear her from behind the door. Dont come out until you shave that disgusting thing off! she ordered from behind the door.
I wasnt going to complain, really. Its not like I had intended it to be there in the first place, I was just shocked at my mothers behavior. That, and she just called me Steve. It was early, but theyve never been that scatterbrained this early in the morning. I just got to shaving it off and had my shower. I would ask her later.