Chapter 44
In the Halls of Remembrance
CHARLOTTE
The scene shifted abruptly. One moment I was on a plane, anticipating my destination, and the next, I found myself standing in the old apartment 1 had lived in with my parents as a child. My mouth felt dry, and a metallic taste lingered on my tongue, preluding an overwhelming sense of dread,
This was a different dream–a very unfamiliar one. I had been plagued with dreams about Rogerio and me a few weeks before our divorce and a few weeks after we had concluded the separation, so I knew this had nothing to do with him.
I looked around for signs of any other person, but it was eerily silent. The walls were painted pale pink and adorned with a rainbow on one side. I searched my mind for hints regarding the direction of this entire experience. but for the first time in a very long time, my mind was silent. I was used to thoughts bouncing all over the place as I struggled to keep them in check, so I wasn’t sure how to respond to a quiet mind.
The feeling of trepidation felt stronger with each second that rolled by and I tried to convince myself to wake up, but that seemed futile. I exhaled slowly and looked around the room I was standing in a second time and realized what it was–my bedroom. The same one I lived in as I grew from a baby to a teenager, but this time, the settings were stuck in a particular memory. I struggled to remember what it was, hoping it would give some insight about where this entire thing was headed, but that didn’t work out as planned. I gave up on trying to do anything else for a moment and focused on what I was looking at.
Toys were strewn all over the place, which reminded me of the hotel room, which had been a worrisome sight when I woke up earlier in the day. I chuckled at the thought of patterns repeating themselves. As a child, I had tossed toys east, west, north, and south; if I could find an extra cardinal point, a toy was tossed in that direction, but at the end
of the day, I also picked them up and put everything back in place.
My eyes roamed around the room and settled on the tea set that lay on the table. Some of my favorite dolls were
positioned on small seats around it, leaving one seat empty. I figured that was the one I’d sit in, but where was I? I studied the room to see if it would trigger any more memories or if I’d be able to remember where this was leading, but a few seconds later; the scene changed, and I was standing in the kitchen watching my mom make breakfast.
Seeing her left me feeling different emotions at the same time because I didn’t think I remembered what she looked
like anymore. I carried pictures of them everywhere with me as a child but when I moved to Milan, I lost some of my property and all I had were memories that soon faded over time.
Being able to conjure a memory of her in this dream was something I couldn’t have envisioned myself doing. I tried to say something to her but the words got stuck in my throat as a lone tear slid down my face.
I reminded myself that this wasn’t reality and we couldn’t have all the conversations I missed out on as a child. I just watched in silence as she cooked. Moments later, my dad walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her. My heart raced against my chest.
For the first time in a long while, I saw them together again. They weren’t a figment of my imagination, fading away
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with the years; they were both present, and it felt like a respite from all the self–loathing I had endured for forgetting what they looked like.
He helped her with the cooking and they moved to the dining area, where they set down the dishes at the table. She yelled out my name and I came running down the stairs right into my father’s arms. He lifted me off the ground and spun me in the air.
I watched myself giggle in delight and smiled wistfully. I was a happy child in a happy home but that was going to change shortly. I wasn’t sure about the direction this dream was going to take but I wasn’t sure I wanted to relive that experience. It was one thing to be reminded about the life you once led; it was an entirely different ball game to experience the rug being pulled from under your feet.
As I watched the memory of me having breakfast with them, I tried one more time to wake myself up. I could live with this memory. It was better to hold onto something nice and warm than to be reminded of the reason I was left alone in this world. My efforts to return to the present proved futile the second time and I gave up trying.
I was scared of reliving a traumatic part of my life but if my body wasn’t responding to my need to exit whatever this was, there wasn’t much I could do to change anything. In that instant, the scene changed and became quiet once more. This was more unnerving than the first and I longed to return to the memory of the three of us as a happy family.
I cursed under my breath and looked around; I was standing in the living room and someone had just stepped into the house through the front door. Her face was unfamiliar for a moment but as she walked towards the couch, I realized who she was and my eyes widened in fear as waves of panic coursed through my body. She had come to give me the news about my parent’s accident and death and I didn’t want to be reminded about how that felt.
“I need to get out of here,” I muttered, turning around to see if there was a door or a portal I could use to leave this place and get back on the plane. Regret washed over me. I wished I hadn’t put on the sleep mask and hadn’t forced myself to fall asleep.
My mind was intent on making me experience this, as I didn’t find a way out; instead, I watched a teenage version of myself walk into the living room. My heart skipped a beat, then two, as I slapped my palm against my mouth to stop myself from yelling at teenage Charlotte to go back to her room. I chuckled at the reaction and put my hand.
down.
This was a dream, a piece of my memory that had come together to form this string of events. I could scream for eons and neither of them would hear me; all I had to do was watch.
I stood rooted in one spot, watching as my heart broke into a million pieces as the lady spoke to me about the accident. I had tried to regulate my breathing as I watched myself sobbing in her arms, “Please get me out of here,” I said to myself as tears rolled down my face.
Both versions of myself crying broke something else in me, “Please get me out of here,” I repeated but nothing changed. I watched as she took me out of the house, leading me to her car and I remembered what was coming next. She was taking me to the morgue, where my parent’s bodies lay.
I had just seen them alive and happy; I didn’t want to see them lying on a platform with the life snuffed out of their bodies. I didn’t know how I moved past that devastating point in my life, but I didn’t want to relive it. I tried to think about something else, hoping it would change the scenery. I closed my eyes and thought about Maria, Rogerio, and the Thuthais. I would be happy to see the estate and would be better prepared for the dreams I used to have about
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Rogerio and me.
Seeing Maria would be much better but I was willing to settle with Don & Signora Thuthai if it came to that. At this point, anything would be better than seeing my parents die. I kept trying to conjure a different memory, then suddenly I heard my name being called in the distance. I listened to see if my mind was having a swell time playing tricks on me but the call echoed once more, and this time I felt someone tap my arm. I opened my eyes and looked
around but there was no one in the room. This confused me further but as I tried to make sense of the situation, I
heard my name again.
This time I was plunged into darkness, I looked around in confusion but when I blinked my eyes, I heard the sound of an engine whirring in the distance and realized I was back on the plane.
I hurriedly took off the mask, happy to have gotten away from that experience, but to my surprise, I saw the man I was staring at earlier crouched next to my seat, looking at me with a concerned expression. We locked gazes, and I instantly remembered where I had seen him; he was the person I had bumped into on the last flight.
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Chapter 45
