I had a nightmare last night.
It was weird, because I never had nightmares.
In the dream, it was chaotic. Some people have dreams that are just flashes of thought, sound, color. Mine are usually actually very detailed, right down to a designer name on a bag or something like that. This dream seemed to be a blend. It started out with me walking down the long road to Luke's uncle's house, by myself, early in the morning. I could see the dew hanging onto the blades of grass. And then, abruptly, night fell. I remember being confused-and then the dream changed. Suddenly I was standing in my old house-the one I'd lived at back in Missouri, my first house ever. I'd stood in the darkened halls before the kitchen, and I'd felt somber as I studied the fading light enamating from the little ballerina lamp perched on the coffee table beside a couch. Then my mother appeared beside me. God, I could still smell her. She always smelled like sweet pea. She'd bent down to be eyelevel with me-apparantly I'd shrunk down to my nine year old height, and she gave me a sad smile. Goodbye, she'd said, and pulled a black hood over her beautiful golden hair before turning and walking away. I could feel tears just rolling off my cheeks as I chased after her, but my feet couldn't seem to move fast enough. I watched while she opened the door and turned to dust in the moonlight.
Then I'd woke, covered in cold sweat, and frantically patted my face for tears before weeping.
And now here I was a few hours later, grooming horses. I was having one of those days where you thinking in a slow, sad, quiet voice, if you know what I mean. I didn't really understand the dream, which was different for me, as I always understood my dreams. I guess it doesn't technically qualify as a nightmare. But it had sure felt like one.
I didn't like thinking about my mother. I know that by now (I mean it had been eight years) I should be comfortable with it. But I wasn't. Just a passing thought of her hurt. You know how when someone you love dies, it feels like an iron fist slamming into your belly? Well, this was like a palm. It doesn't sound as bad as the fist, but in a way, it's worse. The palm is slower, more aching, and it gives you time to think about how much it's hurting you as it pushes in on you. Add the lump in the throat, and you got yourself a painful combination. I used to try to think positive. Then I realized there was really nothing positive to think about. My mother was dead, and she wasn't coming back. Now I've realized the best way to avoid this type of pain was to just ignore it. Push it away, and think of something else.
I know it wasn't healthy, but right now, I was focusing on hating Chloe. It had been a week since she'd stolen Luke away. I'd already confronted her about it-I did live with her, after all-but she refused to acknowledge she had anything to do with Dayton being at my house. A lie, of course. When I texted Dayton asking about her, he'd ignored the message. I knew Dayton. If Chloe really hadn't had anything to do with it, then he would've texted me back mocking my stupidity. The fact that he didn't proved that Chloe had sabataged me.
The problem was, there wasn't anything I could do about it.
Luke was happy with her. He really was. He was smiling everytime I saw him, and he was always holding hands with her. I never really saw them talk, but that might be because Chloe preferred talking with her tongue. I tried to talk to Luke about ten times before I got fed up with it. And now here it was, the last week of July, almost finished with the house, and Luke and I were pretty much back at where we started: hating each other.
"Hey Sadie," Danny greeted me as he walked past me carrying a small bale of hay in his hands.
"Oh. Hi, Danny." I quickly resumed the grooming of Zorro, a black stallion that was almost frighteningly large. I was surprised when Danny dropped the hay and stood beside me, picking up a brush and beginning to groom Zorro's flank.
"So have you, uh...talked to Luke?" he said in a low voice.
I took his cue and spoke in equally quiet. "I tried. He doesn't listen."
"He mentioned something about you...having sex with your ex." Danny avoided my eyes.
"I did not have sex with Dayton! I'm a virgin, for God's sake!" I whispered in outrage, throwing my hands up.
"You're a virgin?" Danny said in mild surprise.
I shook the sting away. "Look, I promise, Danny. Nothing happened between me and Dayton."
"Then how do you explain being naked with him? Luke said that he drove to your house and saw you two through the window."
"I was arguing with him."
"He caught me after a shower!" I snapped, bristling up.
Danny didn't appear to believe me. My hopes deflated. If I couldn't even convince his cousin, there was no way I could convince Luke.
"Just talk to him, Sadie." Danny told me as he set down the brush, retrieved his hay and began to back away. "He deserves that much."
I resisted throwing down my brush in frustration. I couldn't talk to him. Why didn't anybody understand that?