Everyday, I am reminded. It plays like a constant wheel over and over until I cannot fight it. If I am not thinking about what punch in the face to dodge next, I am trying to get the thought out of my head. The one thought that has been haunting my mind.
I used to know what it was like to find something knew. To find something meaningful. Now, I can’t say anything less.
“Mariam,” my mother called. “Mariam it’s time for breakfast.” I do not know how long I have been sitting on that swing.
As I walked into the house where my mother called me, I noticed the green all around me like I have never done before. The beautiful trees wishing peacefully. The birds flying every which way. It reminds me of well... me. I once was peaceful like that. Not so much since the accident.
The tall, front door is laced with silvery, oak wood beams. It’s long panels stretch wide over the cream walls. As I walked into the castle-like building, I saw dark red curtains framing the large windows. Just as I had dreamed it would be.
Mother called me into her arms as I raced to hug her. She smelled like freshly baked bread and lemon sage. She is warm and makes me feel... safe. Safe, what an interesting meaning. A meaning in which I have not felt in a long time since the accident two years ago this Monday. A time that I will never forget.