The Dream
Part One
Chapter Three
By Jayme Ann
 ©April, 2008
Returns and Reunions

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After an unknown amount of time a rather shaken nurse Marie returned saying something about being lucky that Mrs. Covington was suck a kind person. My ears perked up at that and I said aloud “I wonder what Mrs. Covington is doing in Washington?” Nurse Marie then looked at me like I was joking and told me that I was nowhere near Washington, and I was back In Salt Lake where I had been seen before because of my recent trauma. I then asked her to go get Mrs. Covington so she could get a message to Matt for me.

The next thing I know there is this beautiful girl looking in at the doorway holding Mrs. Covington’s hand. Looking at this little girl, I see a remarkable resemblance to Matt, but I also see something that I hoped I would never see, a dark cloud has set over the eyes of this beautiful child as if something terrible has happened. As I still can't seem to sit up on my own the little girl comes over to my bed and says, "Hi Terry, What are in for?”

Looking shocked at the girl sitting on the side of my bed I manage to croak out a weak “Who are you, and where is Matt?” Instantly the smile is gone replaced by a faraway look as tears start forming in the corners of her eyes, almost as if I had slapped her in the face. I have no clue what I have done but before it get to far out of hand Mrs. Covington reminds her that I had moved before the changes had started.

The girl then introduces herself as Matilda and fills me in on what happened after my move. Shocking doesn’t even begin to describe the events of her life and I wish we had never left as I lost a friend but gained another friend whom I will never forget, I know that Matt is gone now but Matilda is here to stay.

I tried to apologize to Matilda for not telling her I was moving away but before I could she gave me that look that women have perfected, you know the one that makes you suddenly speechless as if your mind just shuts down and does a hard restart. Once I am able to think clearly Matilda reminds me the past is in the past and to leave it there, and that she is not upset that I was unable to tell her that I was moving. Looking relieved, I want to hug her but I can’t sit up let alone get out of bed as I am recovering from my last attempt at getting up too soon.

As if reading my mind Matilda gently leans over me and softly hugs me telling me to get well soon, so I can get the hell out of here. Then like that, she is gone and again I find myself alone.
 
 
Thinking back to the dreams I have been having lately I try to see what makes me look like a boy. Remembering how I look in the mirror there is not really anything that screams boy but my haircut. Even with short hair, I constantly hear people calling me a cute girl. I wonder if maybe I was supposed to be a girl but something went wrong. I wonder if this repetitive dream is trying to tell me something, for now I guess that I can wait and try to heal so I can go home, it was nice to meet Matilda for the first time and I really wish I could have seen Matt that last time but things happen for a reason. I have learned that lesson time after time.

After all the excitement of the day is ending, another doctor has entered my room. I look at her and she looks nothing like the ICU, or ER doctors. I’m wondering to myself if she has the right room until she asks me if I am Terry, when I tell her that I am she looks relieved and then tells me that she is a therapist that deals with emotional trauma and she wants to talk to me.

The First thing she does introducing herself as Jessica, was asked me directly if I felt better being called Terry or Terri. I couldn’t answer her. I didn’t know how I felt, or who I really was. I’m tired of hiding from every bully around, and being the smallest person in school. I’m not sure what to make of this new person so I don’t want to tell her of the dreams that I am having.

Apparently, this is the same Jessica that mom was talking about on the phone. I still don’t know if I can trust her as many adults see me as something to be ignored or some sort of freak. I sat there trying to judge where this therapist fell in, but I was having difficulties placing her within the categories I had experienced. Maybe she was truly going to be different from the others, maybe she truly cared about what was going on. I still had my suspicions at this time about her motives and intention, so I wasn’t going to open myself to her just yet.

Sensing my doubt of her she goes on to tell me that I have nothing to fear from her, as she is here to help. (Yeah Right…. I am thinking that as soon as I start to tell her what has been going on in my life recently she is going to run screaming from the room, or lock me up somewhere.) Seeming to read my mind or whatever a therapist does she tells me that there is no way she is going to think any less of me no matter what I say.

I still find it hard to trust people that I do not know so I am leery of talking to this new person. Reluctantly I start to tell her about everything that has happened starting with school and ending before the dreams. There is no way I want to tell anyone about them they are still too weird.

It seems that my mother has been talking to her as well as she directly asks me about the dreams and wants to know why I am trying to avoid telling her about them, as she wants to help me.

Looking at Jessica, I tell her “Ma’am I don’t want to be seen as more of a freak then I already am” , “I have enough problems with being the same size as a toddler and not being strong enough to do even the basic playground things that the other boys can do.”

“Put yourself in my shoes, try looking like a 3 year old and have everyone want to treat you like one.” Starting to tear up at this moment, I sob out “The only friends I really had were two people, one of which I will never see again as he is gone, the other I am not sure will want to continue being my friend as she is back in Washington where I am here in hell.” At this point, I turn my head away from her so she can’t see the tears of pain and anguish that I can’t seem to stop.

The next thing I feel is this hand gently placed on my arm and it is warm. I want to turn and look at whose it is but I am afraid of being hurt and humiliated all over again so I resist moving my head back to it.

“Terry I know that you are afraid but I want you to trust me that you don’t have to worry about that with me, I am here to help you and I want to. I am not your enemy, nor am I ever going to be. In time I hope you will let yourself trust me enough to let me help you till then I will be here all you have to do is ask.” After saying that the warm hand is removed and I hear the chair squeak as it is moved away from the bed, then the door opens and I hear her say one last thing as the door gently closes “Terry I am sorry that you have had so much pain happen to you” then she is gone.

Sometime later, I manage to get the tears under control and I realize that she is different. First, she actually apologized to me; this person is the first adult other than my own mother who has seen me as the person I am not the toddler that their eyes show them, and now she is gone… I wonder if I am doomed to be this miserable for the rest of my life looking like some freak kid who will never grow up.

Thinking to myself, I wonder if it is safe to try to sit up a bit further knowing that the last time I did I got hurt worse I resign to stay in this quasi reclining position till I know for sure. With all the stress of the day, I suddenly feel like I have not slept in days and I feel my eyes start to droop…

To Be Continued...

The next chapter will be out eventually. My muse is still teasing me with this idea and I am not completely sure where it will go yet

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Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author{s}. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2007, 2008 Jayme Ann. All rights reserved.
I want to thank Penny for allowing me to join in on part of her story, and Angel for helping turn this into a wonderful work of art that people deserve.