The year I turned 5 we moved. My parents decided we needed to be in a safer area. Our neighborhood was going bad and fast.
So we moved halfway across the state.
To a slightly nicer, slightly bigger much safer home. The house was good. But the backyard--Now that was Great!
Now that I am older I realize it was just a really big back yard with a pond. But as a child it was so much more. It was an endless forest with my own lake. And it seemed endless.
My sister Carrie and I would spend any chance we got out there. Exploring and pretending. Searching and building. The stuff kids need to do. The stuff kids don't do anymore.
But we lived for it. We created our own adventures.
And that is what the dreams were about. Most of them anyway.
In this particular dream,
I was in the back yard with Carrie and we were hunting for frogs. We almost never caught them, but we would spend all day trying. And when we did finally get one. The excitement was unstoppable. This time we had actually caught two of them. I was holding down the net and I heard Carrie scream.
Then the taste came. That bitter horrible taste. My mouth began to water--and I knew I was going to vomit.
The dream suddenly ended.
But the taste did not go away.
I began to retch, and the headache was there. The buzzing was there.
"Libby"
"Libby are you okay?"
"Do something!"
"She's going to vomit!"
The Headache! Please stop!
Darkness again.
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