Dreaming of Flowers

"That's it?" I ask after a moment of silence. "You can't remember a thing?" My voice is shaking at this point. I was so close to finding something out, something important. She shakes her head, staring down at her lap. I looked down at the picture of the field I was still desperately gripping in my hand. "Okay, so then what about this picture? Where did it come from?"

She sniffs, inhales, and looks back at the picture. "My camera was the only thing I left home with that I also returned with. It was a few months before I ever got what was on it printed. I must have been conscious wherever I was, enough so to know that I would want to look back at it." 

"But you can't remember anything." I watch her, trying to see if she'd lie to me.

But I believe her when she shakes her head again. "I did have dreams, after. I still have them, actually." I furrow my brow, tilting my head at her. "I dream of a woman, kind and gentle, pulling me from water, bringing air back into my lungs. I dream of sitting in this field, the warm spring air blowing through my hair…" she trails off, her eyes glazing over. I remembered the guy saying, "this time you'll remember." Could they… could he take away my memories? Had he been doing it all this time? Is that why he looked so familiar and yet unplaceable? 

"Mom… something is… pulling me here." I choke out, holding the picture out to her. Her eyes flick up to me. "I've been dreaming of a guy that lives here, or somewhere that looks just like. But I'm starting to believe that they aren't just dreams…" We stare into each other's eyes, both trying to figure out what to say next. "I think… I think I want to find it." 

"No." She snaps, standing up quickly. The mood in the room changes quickly, no more mother daughter bonding was left. Just my mom, angrily storming around the room, snatching up stacks of pictures and shoving them back into their boxes to be locked away again. "I forbid it."

I scoff, bringing the photo closer to my chest and away from her snatchy hands. "You know I'm an adult, right? I don't actually need your permission." I watch as she stills, facing away from me with a box overflowing with photographs of me throughout my school years. I could see her knuckles turning white with how hard she was clenching the edges of the thing. 

"If you leave, Delilah, you will not be welcome back." Her voice is firm and unwavering. 

Just like my mother always was, I guess. 

I nod, keep a hold on my one picture, and stand up. 

Neither of us say anything as I slowly walk to my room. I wanted her to stop me, to tell me she was sorry for saying that and that she would support me in finding out what the hell was happening with me. 

But she didn't. 

I walked into my room, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it. I close my eyes, slide down the length of it, and bury my face in my hands. I jump a little when I feel my dog's nose brushing my forearm. 

I glance up, my throat on fire and my eyes already brimming over with tears.

I grab her face in my hands, staring into her aging yellow eyes. She had gray hair all over her face, her lips and ears drooped more every day, and lately she had developed a limp. The vet had just said it was her joints, and apart from a special diet and exercise routine, there was nothing we could do to help her. She was just getting old. 

My dad had gotten her for me, three years before he died, when we moved into the place we were in now. We had been living in a two-bedroom apartment before, one that didn't allow pets. I was always so jealous of the other kids who had cats and dogs and mice and guinea pigs.

The second day in the house, he came home with her. 

A small black and white basset hound, with big yellow eyes and a black nose. She was my best friend, and everything to me after my dad died. She was my only company for a really long time. I loved her. 

"You'll forgive me if I go, right?" I whisper, rubbing her ears gently and kissing her nose. "I promise, it won't be for too long." She scoots forward a little, nudging my hand with her nose. I smile, and open my arms, letting her fall forward into them and lay her head on my chest. I don't think she really knew what I was saying, but at least someone was giving me a proper goodbye. 

"I gotta pack." I whisper, giving her one final kiss on the top of the head before I stand up. She sighed heavily, flopped down on the floor in front of my door, and watched me warily as I grabbed my big green army backpack off my closet door handle. 

I shove only the things I think I'll need in, underwear, pants, shirts. I empty my tip jar onto my bed and sort and smooth it out before folding it up between my jeans. I was just shy of a thousand. I had a few hundred in my bank account as well, this was just my savings. I had no idea where I was going, or for how long. 

 I just knew I was going.

"Come on, babe." I nudged my dog out of the way of the door a few minutes later, my bag slung over my shoulder and my laptop under my arm.

I stand in the doorway of my childhood bedroom one last time for who knows how long, just taking it in. I knew I would leave eventually, but I didn't think it would be so soon, and definitely not like this. 

"What are you doing?" My mom asks when I come down the hallway with my bag a few moments later. I stood in the entryway, looking at her standing in the living room. She was almost done putting away the rest of the pictures. I had mine clutched in my hand tightly. I grabbed my keys off the hook by the front door. "Please don't do this." she whispers. "I need you." I shake my head as I turn towards the door. 

"I need to find out what's happening with me. You obviously know something that you aren't telling me… if you won't help me, I'll figure it out myself." I waited just a second longer before opening the door and stepping out. 

"Bye, mom."