Five Years Old. One Day.

I was dreaming.
I had to be dreaming.
I awoke to a familiar smell. Breakfast. But who was cooking it?
I sat up in a little white bed, surrounded in stuffed animals. The room looked familiar. Some of the best moments of my life were spent in a room such as this. But that was years ago. That was when I was a child.
The similarities were uncanny. In the far corner of the little room, sat a brown gorilla. It was stuffed, of course. I had one like it when I was a child. I was terrified of it. It had little black eyes that followed you wherever you went. I remember running past it as I left my room as a child, because I was convinced one day the thing would grab me.
It never did.
I climbed slowly out of the bed, afraid of what might happen if I did. I had never had a dream this vivid. I’d never had a dream when I had my own thoughts and felt things as if it were one hundred percent reality.
As I stood, I realized I wasn’t much taller than the bed I had climbed out of. Out of habit, I pulled the cover to my pillow, making the bed.
My hands….they were so small. And my skin was smooth again. I looked down and realized, everything else was small as well.
I was a child again.
My hair hung loosely in my face, a shade of blonde I forgot I’d ever had.
It was beautiful. When did it change?
I walked slowly through the house, taking in my surroundings. I knew this place. I had lived here. Back when life was easy and I had no worries. When the most important people of my childhood were still alive.
I followed the smell of food to the kitchen. Tears stung the corners of my eyes as I realized who was cooking. She turned to face me, her smile reaching her eyes.
“Your milk’s on the table.”
I wasn’t sure how to react. Every nerve in my body was lurching forward, yearning to hug her.
My grandmother. My best friend.
But I stood still. I wasn’t five. I was in a five year old’s body, but I had the mind of a twenty year old. How would she react if I reacted on impulse? Would she think I was crazy? Could someone think that of a five year old?
I didn’t want to find out. I didn’t want to disappoint her. Not even in my dreams.
I turned swiftly and ran to the bathroom. Of course it was familiar. I did live here. There was no denying where I was.
I sat staring at the green and white pattern I hadn’t realized it was possible to miss. But I did miss it. Because it was her. Only she would have such décor in a bathroom, and it still looked amazing.
I took a deep breath before leaving the bathroom and joining her in the kitchen. I had to. Who knew when I would wake up?
I sat at the table quietly. She sat a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me. I smiled. How did I used to eat these?
Right. Ketchup. Of course, it was already on the table.
I ate in silence. I could think of nothing to say. All the things I wish I would’ve said before she died, yet here I sit. Speechless.
She watched M.A.S.H quietly, drinking her coffee. She never was much for small talk.
“Where’s Don?” The words were out of my mouth as soon as I thought them.
She looked puzzled before answering, “He’s at work.”
I should’ve known that. Of course.
The birds chirped from the living room as I continued to eat. They were irritating me. It had been a long time since I had been around birds. How could I, or anyone else, have gotten used to that constant noise?
Dog walked up and laid his head in my lap. I laid my hand on his head lightly, cautiously. He had a quick temper, one that I would never forget. He stood staring at me with those big brown eyes. Not moving. Just staring, like he always did. So sweet.
Why was this happening to me? My mind is creating a dream that I knew would crush me when I woke up. But there was nothing I could do. Pinching my arm, I felt that. Everything was so real, so vivid. How long would it last?
“How’d you sleep?” My grandma asked as M.A.S.H ended.
“Okay I guess.”
I spent the rest of the day right next to her. She seemed confused by my behavior, but she didn’t question it. We watched M.A.S.H, Bonanza, and Gunsmoke for the entire day.
I was happy. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t woken up from this amazing dream, but for one day, I she was alive. She was here, in the flesh. I took her for granted when she was alive, but whatever time I had as five year old again, I was going to cherish.
Don came home, and as usual, spent his time on the computer. That was him, that was what he did.
I never asked about Ayla, and I never saw her. Ayla was my grandma’s dog, and any day now, she would be bringing her home. But not yet, apparently.
Dog stayed at my side. I enjoyed that. It was nice to have him there again. He was gone too. When I woke up, I would never see him again either.
I had a horrible feeling when she tucked me into bed that night. This time I knew I would never see her again.
I kissed her goodnight, and told her I loved her. Something I didn’t get to do in real life.
Would I ever see her again? I didn’t think so. Not in this life, and not in an afterlife that didn’t exist. This was it for us. It’s a terrible truth, but the truth all the same.
She left my room happy. Like she always did. She was always happy, even when times were their worst, you could count her to be smiling.
I don’t remember falling asleep. I fought it. I didn’t want the dream to end. It was too great. She wasn’t in the room any longer, but she was in this house. Alive. I would stare at that scary gorilla forever as long as she was here. But that wasn’t reality. It was a dream. And all dreams had to end.
I woke in my bed. In my twenty year old body. In the world where my grandma was gone. Along with Dog and so many others. Suddenly the dream felt like more of a nightmare. It made me want something more than I had ever wanted anything. Something that was impossible.

*Note, this was not a real dream. Just a writing activity.

© 2009 Amanda Harris