Sunday, June 19

I hate hospitals

That's where I was up until an hour ago. The same hospital I went to a while back and still haven't paid. I half expected them to throw me out based on that alone.

I got my phone working and I listened to all ninety-seven messages, a smattering from work near the beginning and several snarky calls from my sister when I first left. The majority of the remaining eighty odd messages came from my mother with a smattering of calls from my sister, brother, and even two from my stepdad. I won't go into detail about the calls, but suffice it to say, they went from worried, to worrying, to worse. The calls stopped abruptly on Friday, either because I visited home or because my message box was full.

The gist of the messages came to this... my mother had been calling all of us for a week, the message- that she'd had a dream and she really needed to tell us about it. (If I ever get my hands on you, Executor, I'm going to strangle you.) The messages on my phone from the last week went from a handful a day to about two dozen the Friday I went home, all but two from my mother. There were messages before that, but they really started to snowball about the time Tzamain came calling. Coincidence? I have no idea.

The calls from my sister were to be expected and mostly consisted of her threatening to have me arrested if I didn't return her car and insults that I won't repeat. The calls from my brother and stepdad were more surprising. My brother is on SSI; he has Asbergers and what I consider a terminal case of lazy (but which modern medicine calls manic depression). He doesn't do much beyond take his meds and play video games. He doesn't even call me on my birthday, and I only see him on holidays because relatives will pick him up and bring him to our gatherings. In short, he is not the kind to express interest, let alone concern, for another human being. So calls from him about mom were very unexpected (but may have something to do with the fact that she is more or less his wheels when he wants to go get a new game). The two calls from my stepdad were even more bizarre since we haven't spoken in over a year (I called him an ignorant redneck pothead from the lower end of the gene pool, and he told me to get out of "his" house). My sister, brother, and stepdad ALL left me messages to call my mom.

So when I got through all the messages, I started calling people. My sister didn't answer; she probably recognized my number and decided to be a bitch. My brother didn't answer, but he was either sleeping or playing video games or just didn't feel like it. Which left my grandmother or my stepdad. I seriously considered calling my grandmother though she has Alzheimer's and we avoid telling her anything that might confuse her or make her anxious. So I sucked it up and called my stepdad (on Father's day, the irony...).

At least he answered. Once we got through the "pleasantries" of him cursing me out, he told me my mom was at _______ Hospital. I hung up on him and went to the hospital.

Of course, actually getting in to see my mom became an issue when my sister insisted to the hospital staff that she'd never seen me before in her life. (At this point, if I didn't love my niece, I'd sell the house right out from under my sister and give her the frikkin car back.) Oh, she knew who I was. This wasn't a Slendy-mindgame. She was just being a bitch. The hospital told me to leave, I told them to call the cops because I was going to get in to see my mom, come hell or high water. Then a nurse with more sense than the rest said, why don't we just ask her the patient's info and see if it checks out. Thank you, voice of reason!

After that, my sister looked like a fool and a bitch, and the hospital staff gave her dark looks of disgust. By the time I came back out, she was gone. She's not at the house now; so I don't know where she went. Maybe to wherever E-Bear and her husband are, which means I won't be here much longer just in case they come home. Or maybe she's gone back to the hospital by now, called there by my mom.

Mom was comatose, and no one could figure out why. She'd collapsed pretty much as soon as I ran out of my house. They had her hooked up to all kinds of machines which did nothing but beep indecipherable signals at me. After allowing me into the room and telling me a bunch of info that amounted to them not knowing a damn thing, the doctor left, and I sat down next to my mom. I told her I was there and held her hand and waited.

It was only about ten minutes later that she opened her eyes, blinked at me, and smiled for all the world as if she'd just been napping. "I had the weirdest dream!" she said in an excited (not frightened or confused) voice. "There was a gentleman in a suit... I can't really remember his face, but he was very professional." I rolled my eyes. "He showed me all kinds of amazing and horrible things, but you know dreams don't bother me. Dreams can't hurt you."

She waved her hand, and I nodded. Yeah... can't hurt you unless some sadistic dream-professional is messing with your circadian cycles. If there's one thing my mom and me have in common it's our habit of vivid, usually lucid dreams, which probably explains why she sleeps so much... If there was such a thing as a dream addict, that'd be my mom.

"Did he say why he was doing it?" I asked patiently.

"Oh... sort of..." She shrugged and then looked down at the wires and around at the machines, seeing them for the first time. "Am I sick?" She yawned hugely as if going off topic had brought back her narcolepsy.

"Not any more. So about this dream, mom?"

"Oh, yeah, well he just said weird things like 'Families should look after one another' and 'there's safety in numbers' and 'talk to your children'..." Her forehead wrinkled. "You know I've always done the best I could for you. I know I wasn't the best mother, but I did try."

"Yeah, I know mom." Old discussion that comes up at least once a month with her. So far as I know, I'm the only one she apologizes to for being a bad mother, probably because I'm the only one she's never really been there for. She's certainly jumped through hoops for everyone else but me. But that's neither here nor there, and I've long since stopped caring. Those who live in the past have no future. "Did he say anything else?"

"Nooooooooo, not really," she said in deep thought. "He just made it seem like everyone would be safest and happy if we stuck together. He was very insistent. I guess it was just worry about you leaving. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, mom. I brought you a present." I gave her a little stone horse. I have a bag of animals carved from stone in one of my tubs. My mom doesn't remember many past lives, but she's convinced she was a horse at some point. If nothing else, it's something she identifies with.

"Oh! It's beautiful. I'll put it in the window with my other horses."

"Mom, if you see this guy in your dreams again, don't let him talk to you. He is a very bad man."

"Honey... it was just a dream..."

"No... I know you're not as skeptical as the others, so you'll at least give me the benefit of the doubt here. Once you find out how you've been acting and why you're in the hospital, I don't think you'll believe that any more. So if you see him again, you bring that horse into your dream and use it however you can... ride away on her or use her to defend yourself. She'll do whatever you need her to do. Okay?"

"Okay... So are you coming home?"

"Uh... no. I'm living with some people now, and we're doing alright. You know I can't live with J- in my house, and I'm not going to throw her out. She always wanted the house anyway. Never could forgive grandpa for leaving it to me."

"Well, she does have a family to take care of," she said, running her fingers over the little horse.

"Yeah..." I didn't argue the point, but the fact that my sister got most of his money and I got a house seemed like an equitable division. What my sister had wanted was all the money and the house.

So I left mom in the hospital after some more of her making excuses for various failings in the family. If it makes her happy, then whatever. The doctors were amazed by her recovery but insisted she stay overnight for observation. When I left, she was calling my stepdad on her cellphone.

So I'm going Home. Filled up the car and hopefully I won't be back. And to be a real bitch, I'm taking the computer too, not that I can use it. It's a desktop, and there's currently no power at the mansion. My sister always wanted the house and now she has it. At least E-Bear is safe there, and I gave my mom a tool to defend herself, but she's a Dreamer, always has been. Now that she knows Executor is not an innocent dream, she'll defend herself and use the horse if she has to.

I don't expect more message though because, Executor, you can't make my family love me. My mother seems to find it perfectly acceptable that my sister have my house. She offered me no money or questioned the fact that I was staying with friends, even though she knows I am not the most gregarious person in the world. (Half the time I think I have Asbergers like my brother.) They're my family, but I'm an outsider to them, and they don't want me, and you can't make them. So torturing any of them to send me a message like this was pointless and cruel. And the message itself was idiotic. Surely you have better things to do with your time?


  1. Glad to hear your Mother is okay.

  2. Thank you :) I just hope she actually listened to me and does what I told her to.

  3. I'm glad to hear things are all right. I hope your tool does its job and protects your mother. Executor sounds like a real pain in the ass..Hope I never have a run in with him.

  4. Thank you... Apparently Executor has "lists" of people he's meant to send dreams to. :(

  5. I guess I'd better start practicing dream defense, just in case.