Still catching up.....
"Sometimes when I dream, it feels like there's someone else in there with me."
I have never been a “normal” child. I know this because my mother would tell people as a way of excusing what I can only assume are “weird” statements (yet another term of endearment from my mother). She would give me those sideways glances, and gnaw at her bottom lip whenever I would talk to her about the conversation I had with the smooth stones in the creek at the back of the property. Daggers would fly from her eyes when, in response to the question, “and how are you doing, Violet?” I would begin revealing how my blood had been drained from my body by the aliens who had visited me the previous year, and I was unsure (and a little concerned) about how long I could actually last with alien anti-freeze in my veins.
So, here I sit, outside the psycho doctor’s office (oh, sorry, the psychiatrist). I had been rushed out of my classroom and down the hall to the principal’s office where I had been subjected to a litany of questions regarding my essay on dreams. Apparently, when you tell people that a man comes to you in your dreams, and tells you a bunch of secrets about the neighbors, it dictates a visit to the shrink (yes, yes, psychiatrist!). I fail to see why people have an issue with him swearing me to secrecy – after all, if people in town knew the neighbors where really vampires, there would be an uproar, and maybe a burning at the stake.
So, my mother had been called to come and pick me up post-haste and bring me to the witch doctor to explain myself. “Well,” I start, “Sometimes when I dream, it feels like there's someone else in there with me."