The Nightmare Was Me...

A Story by Meaghan M

It was as if I was watching it all occur from above; like I was sitting on some ridge or even a cloud as it unfolded before my eyes. I floated, yet I felt like I was falling at the same time. There were two of them. One was a girl, younger than me, with a strange yet familiar air about her. For some reason, I could not remember if I knew her or not. The other, she was different. I didn’t know how I knew she was a woman for she wore a large black sweatshirt with hood that covered her face, but I knew. She had an even stranger air of familiarity about her. I couldn’t match either of them to any memory though.

I watched as the woman slowly approached the young girl, who I had named Alex. Alex backed away, fear embedded in her small blue eyes. Alex turned and ran as I watched from my cloud in the dark sky. The woman waited for a moment before chasing after Alex down the block I used to live on. Somehow, I followed, still feeling as if I was floating and falling.

Alex stopped in front of a house with a large porch and stone steps. Suddenly, I knew where I was. I had not traveled back to this house in over ten years, not even in memories. My old house where I lived when I was young; the house where I had lived with my first foster parents. I didn’t know why Alex had gone there; I tried not to remember much from those years. Just an uncomfortable feeling of fear that I wished not to return to came to mind when Alex stopped there. The woman in the black sweatshirt soon reached the house as well.

They both knew. I didn’t know how or why, but they both knew why I had to be taken away from my foster father. They both knew about the bruises and the scars. Without notice, and quite suddenly, Alex, the woman, and I were inside the house. The woman held Alex by the arm, looking around the room. She turned her back to me and threw Alex down to the floor. In another flash, the woman and I were back outside.

I heard Alex’s screams from inside the house as she pounded on the locked front door. I tried to call out to her, but nothing came. The woman stood on the front lawn, playing with something I her right hand. Alex stood at a window, her hand pressed against the glass. That’s when it caught my eyes: a familiar scar running across the young girl’s palm. My right palm bore that same scar. That was why I had given her my name; she was me. I felt my stomach begin to churn as everything save the house and the woman started to blur and appeared to melt. In those moments, I could feel such anger and hatred flowing through me. It was not mine though; it belonged to the woman in the black sweatshirt. I didn’t know why, but I felt what she felt. I had never felt so overwhelmed with such intensity before then. It was a wonder the woman was able to survive with the feeling surging through her body, embedded in her very blood.

She spoke, and I thought she was talking to Alex.

“We can be free now.”

The woman was not speaking to Alex. She was speaking to me. Suddenly, I was on the ground a few steps behind her. She kept her back to me and continued to speak.

“We can be free now. Once we get rid of it; once she’s gone we can be free. Once it’s over, we can move on.”

I saw something move in her right hand. My eyes again caught that scar running across the woman’s right palm.

“Sometimes you have to let go of the past to have a future. We can stop from becoming me. We can change what’s to happen to us in the years to come. But we need to get rid of what is holding us back. She needs to be erased. We have to forget once and for all. We’ll never be able to move if she stays. She’s nothing more than the pain and terror we felt all those years ago. She’s what makes us become what I am. She’s the reason why we turn out just like him. But we can be free. All we have to do is end it.”

Try as I could, I could not answer the woman. I watched in fearful silence as she flipped up the lighter in her right and fire blazed from it. Alex banged on the glass of the window and began to scream again. I remembered those screams. They were mine ten years ago. Without hesitation, the woman threw the lighter at the house. In an instant, the house was ablaze. I stumbled back in horror as I watched the house burn; as I heard Alex’s screams; my screams. I ran up beside the woman and cried. Finally, she turned to me. My tears stopped, for I realized I was not feeling sad at all. I was relieved. I turned as well and looked at her. She removed the hood and smiled.

“You can wake up now.”

I sprang from my sleep, soaked with cold sweat. I kept my eyes shut and threw the covers off. Stumbling through the darkness with my eyes still shut, I reached my dresser and outstretched my hand onto the large mirror leaning against the wall.

Then I opened my eyes and I realized the nightmare… was me.