It Was Just A Dream

It was just a dream

I awoke in such a hurry that I almost flung from my bed onto the floor, my eyes shifting around the room just to reassure myself that it was nothing more than a horrible dream. I tried to shake the feeling, but my palms were still sweating and my body still shivering, I was too lost in the visions of my dream.

“What was that all about?” I asked myself, the words sounded much like a soft whisper than an actual statement. Getting up I stumbled through the darkness of my room attempting to find the light switch, only after tripping over my jacket I had tossed on the floor earlier that evening I eventually found it. The light wasn’t that bright, “Thank goodness” I thought. No one likes that “eyes on fire” feeling you get when your eyes are extremely tired and you turn on a bright light.

Opening my door, I walked down the hallway to my bathroom – splashing cold water on my face. I looked in the mirror a pale figure stood before me, like a familiar stranger. “Ok get yourself together!” I snapped at myself. “It was only a dream, nothing more nothing less. Maybe something warm to drink will settle my nerves.” I left my bathroom and continued down the hallway till I reached the staircase. “I wonder if anyone else is awake.” Having thought that I didn’t want to turn on anymore lights, I opened the closet door that was located by the stairs. There were so many towels and sheets that I had to keep removing stacks of them to find the flashlight. Eventually finding it I pressed the button that made a little click sound as it transformed the dark to light.

Taking a small step one by one down the stairs shining the light on every step, our dog just loves to lay her squeaky toys on the stairs. Touching the last step I felt relieved, “one task out of the way, get downstairs quietly.” I made my way into the kitchen and walked to the shelf that sat right above the stove and pulled down a box of my favorite tea. It was the sweet combination of lemon and mint. Odd combination I know, but something about it helps to soothe and relax me in those stressful times, like a midterm or a job interview. “Tea don’t fail me now” I thought as I grasped the handle of my favorite turquoise mug I hand painted a few years back and began to fill it with water. I filled the cup up to the top of the handle and turned off the faucet.

“What are you doing up sweetie? It’s nearly 4:00 o’clock.” My mother’s voice startled me at first, I didn’t expect anyone to come into the kitchen. “Oh and by the way it’s better to have the lights on while in the kitchen, turn that flashlight off.” Mother walked over and turned on the dimming light switch to a bright but not too bright setting. While she did that I had already placed my cup in the microwave for a minute and thirty seconds, I preferred my tea hot.

“So what are you doing up so late, another bad dream?”

My mother knew me all too well, like all mothers do I suppose, I felt like I should tell her what it was about, but I didn’t want to relive the dream again, once not by choice was enough for me. I shook my head and felt a wave of exhaustion, I glanced at the timer on the microwave, “why is it when you really want something it seems like time moves oh too slow…” I said to my mother with heavy eyelids.

She laughed and gave somewhat of a shoulder shrug, then joined me at the side of the kitchen with me. “Have you practiced your piano today?” I looked away from the microwaves countdown and took a long glance at the beautiful pure black Yamaha grand piano that sat ever so perfectly in the den, with the slightest most unrecognizable – to the untrained eye – layer of dust that covered it like a see through sheet. I knew I haven’t been practicing like I should have. I had a recital coming up in the next week and I still haven’t gotten my tempo for the last half of the song down. My heart sank every time I thought about it. Like a heavy weight on my chest that I couldn’t remove.

“I know you haven’t, what’s wrong?”

I signed and got my tea from the microwave and tossed the tea bag to let it seep. I lifted the bag up and down and was in a quiet state of mind watching the brownish green swirls that were being released from the tea bag like paint to water. “I don’t know mom…” I began.

“This piano recital has me so worked up, what if I mess up or go to the stage and just freeze, forget all the keys, finger placement, tempo, everything.”

“But that won’t be the case”

I wish I was as sure as she was. I had a terrible fear of stage fright though I loved the piano, I didn’t know if that would be enough to overcome the fear. “What was your dream about?” my mother asked me with a curious look that swarmed her eyes. I took a heavy breath and opened my mouth. “My dream started with me riding my bike down a windy road that was laced with broken piano keys…”