The horrors of the night were playing all over again. Whimpering, I snuggled up to the cosy embrace, wait, who would embrace me like this? I opened my eyes just a tad, I saw her and quickly shut my eyes tighter. How could this be? I was terrorized. I was relieved.
I opened my eyes again and tried to get up. She held me firmly against her heart and was cooing my favourite lullaby.
I looked at her closely in the dim lights, she looked younger and beautiful. I tried to get up again and felt arrested by her arms. “Go back to sleep my baby, it was just a bad dream. Momma is here, you are safe. Relax,” she said and continued singing and walking across the room.
I couldn’t understand what was happening. How could she cradle me at this age? How could she be there in the first place?
All of a sudden I saw a reflection of us in the mirror. Good Lord! How did I reduce in size? I must be around three and she was her younger self.
This definitely was a dream, I thought and tried to wake up. Her arms still restricted my movements.
I closed my eyes and tried to string the events of the day. I had visited her in the evening, I was drunk and I was angry. The heated conversation over the property made me angrier. I had flung a porcelain vase at her to stop her. And it had. She was dead.
I must have fallen asleep while holding her and crying and praying for her to wake up. Maybe my prayer is answered and I got this chance to correct my wrongdoings. I felt a little relaxed, a flicker of hope arose in my heart, maybe this was a re-run of my life after all.
If this was a dream I didn’t want to wake up anymore, I hoped this was real. I closed my eyes firmly and clung to her with all the strength my three-year self could muster.