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The Mother

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The usual night at Steve's house. Video games, tons of soda, and scattered conversations. We bought Halo: Anniversary Edition. We played the entire campaign in one night, which was quite the nostalgia blast for both of us.

3:46 AM.

"Steve?" I blundered through the darkness of his room to find the futon I was sleeping on for the night.

"Yeah?" I followed the sound of his reply, and flopped onto the futon.

"Good lord, I'm exhausted."

"No, you."

Steve's random "No You's" were always entertaining. I chuckled and started to sleep.

The air felt tense.
Then, there was darkness.
Why am I so uncomfortable?
Where the hell am I going?

I was dreaming of walking down a long, brightly lit hallway. I opened a large metal door, an operating table stood a few feet away. A pregnant woman lay by herself on the table, her lower body covered by a thin, white sheet.

"Where are all the nurses? Isn't this woman delivering?" I shouted out to nobody.

Blood suddenly spread through the sheet. The sheet appeared to be paper-thin.

I could see the head of the baby, yet the mother was completely still and silent. Before I knew it, the baby was laying on the table, visible through the blood-soaked paper. It delivered itself unto this world. I was shocked. Was the mother dead? What the hell is happening here?

The woman's head lifted. I saw the face of my own mother.

My past seemed to be alive and making itself known to me. Fear never flowed through my body so fast.

Suddenly, hell broke loose. My mother wrenched the newborn child from the table. No sound could be heard. Just a piercing ringing sound filled the void of my dream. I watched her tear the child limb from limb. First, she pulled the arms off and flung them away. The legs were met with the same fate. Blood splattered as far as I could see. The child shrieked out in pain as it was literally ripped apart, and then all was silent. My vision became blurry, as if I was crying. I buried my face in my hands.

Darkness again.

The mother was now in a pool of pitch black water. A few candles floated on the surface, held up by lily pads. The light from the candles illuminated the tiled room which held the pool. The very same child I saw the mother rip apart was now for some reason standing on its own, in full armor and holding a sword and shield.

I don't understand.

She turned and faced the baby. It ran forward, armor clinking, almost warrior-like. The mother raised one hand, nonchalantly. I watched half of the child's body suddenly rip itself off and fly off into the darkness.

The child continued to run toward its mother.


I was awakened by Steve's grandmother. I realized I had been freezing cold and pouring sweat, still in shock at what I had dreamed about.

"Your uncle said Marc is going to pick you up at 11:00 to go work." I started to panic; Steve's clock read 10:34.

"It's only 9:30, his clock is an hour ahead."


I'm not alone.

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