I got home from the park just as the suns rays were gracing the sky. My room looked just as I left it: sheets on the floor, pillow pressed in between the wall and the side of the bed, and laundry strewn from my closet to the bathroom. My room wasn’t usually this messy, I just hadn’t been paying attention to a lot of things lately. My mind was lost on other topics. I was trying not to think about him, really I was. But it was like his image was shoved and drilled inside my brain just when I was trying desperately to forget it. My mom wouldn’t be up for at least another 2 hours, so I decided to try and salvage some sleep; normal, dreamless sleep was what I was hoping for. I fixed my sheets on the bed and placed the pillow in its normal position. Only seconds after, I was asleep.
I awoke four hours later to the satisfying smell of sizzling bacon and sweet pancakes. Mom was up, and I’m guessing that was an elaborately cooked breakfast I was smelling. I slowly turned over and half rolled out of bed, sweeping my feet underneath me at the last second to land sturdily on the floor. The hard wood didn’t feel very comforting to my still-asleep feet as I walked over to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. My deep brown hair had developed flowing, sporadic waves throughout the night, attempting to return to its natural waviness. Every now and then, I would see a golden, glittery sheen appear if the lighting was just perfect. My skin was smooth and angelic, interrupted by deep chocolate eyes that held flecks of pure gold in their crevices. These subtle traces of gold were left behind from the overwhelming goldenness of my butterfly state; it was one thing I actually liked about the other me, not necessarily a benefit, but more of a consolation prize. I knew it wasn’t all a dream when I saw the tinges of gold.
I splashed a handful of cold water on my face and let out a yawn of satisfaction. I had finally done it; a dreamless sleep. I gave a smirkish smile and patted myself on the back for a job well done. I’d accomplished the first step in forgetting about a boy; quit dreaming about him.
I decided to make my way down to the kitchen, I bet Mom was just dying to feed me her masterpiece. I took the stairs one at a time, trying to appear sleepier than I actually was. When I finally reached the bottom, I saw the magnificent feast. Bowls of colorful fruits were outlaid with accompanying plates of pancakes, sausage, and dark, meaty bacon. She had even pored me a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice to wash it all down. Mother was standing over at the counter washing something in the sink when she saw me. “Oh! Honey, there you are.” She quickly put down whatever she was washing and did a little skip over to where I was standing, granting me with a warm hug. “Surprise!” she squealed with bright eyes. I hugged her back and let out a pleasantly surprised laugh. “Mom, this looks amazing. What’s the occasion?” She walked back over to the table of lavish food.
“I just thought we should have a last-week-of-summer celebration. Make the most of it, you know?” I joined her at the table.
“Well sounds great to me. Thanks mom, seriously it’s amazing.”
I flopped a fluffy pancake onto my plate. “Where’s dad?”
“He’s up at the hospital, he had to go in early this morning to get some paper work done.” I stuffed a bite dripping with syrup into my mouth.
“Oh, well I’m sure there’ll be plenty left for him when he gets back.”
“I should hope so, I made enough to feed an army!” We laughed and then kept eating in silence for a few minutes. Then she broke the silence.
“You slept in pretty late today, Have you been sleeping okay?”
I suddenly got nervous, but remained calm. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
“11:00 really isn’t that late…”
“For you it is, your usually up at seven or eight. Is something bothering you?” Whenever anything started to hint at my secret I got outrageously uncomfortable. But of course it had happened before, and I was good at hiding things. Its not like I enjoy hiding them, its just that I happened to be good at it. Like when a kid is unfortunately really great at some sport that they hate to play, but are forced to anyway.
“Yeah, I guess I kind of had a rough night last night.” I was hoping to keep it vague, yet mostly truthful.
“Don’t you mean last couple of nights?” I set down a slice of apple that had just almost made it into my mouth, but had stopped short at her question.
“What..?” In an effort to remain calm, I picked up the uneaten slice of apple and shoved it into my mouth. Maybe I wouldn’t have to talk if I was chewing.
“Mothers know everything, honey. Eyes in the back of our head, and ears like a blood hound.” Well, not everything… but I decided to leave that part out. She gave me an inquisitive look, waiting for me to say something.
“Yeah, I’ve been having this really weird dream over and over for like a week.” That was about all I could give her.
“Oh what about?” Crud. I struggled to form a sentence as close to the truth as possible.
But wait. This was a dream that I was telling her about, right? Anything is possible in dreams. She wouldn’t even think twice about it. I could tell her the truth and she wouldn’t even know it.
“It’s kinda crazy. I dreamt that I turned into a butterfly.” Her eyes brightened and she shot me one of those “well that’s… interesting” looks.
“Oh did you now?”
“Yeah, it was pretty cool. Never felt anything like it.” I swallowed my food as casually as I could. “It was even in the rain.” This felt like a test, as if I was reassuring myself of how oblivious she really was.
“Well that sounds like a fun night to me, being a butterfly can’t be that awful.” She smiled to herself as she took a mouthful of melon. I let out a chuckle, responding to my own inside joke. “It would seem that way,” I murmured under my breath.