Good morning, Tabitha

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Review Chain


Where does your soul go when you sleep? Why do you remember only glimpses from your dreams? Why do you sleep for a long time on some nights and still feel tired after waking up?

Submitted: November 07, 2017

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Submitted: November 07, 2017

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Good morning, Tabitha

 

Tabitha woke up at three in the morning with her stomach churning. The right side of her belly ached too making it harder for her to go back to sleep. Ugh I shouldn’t have eaten that leftover cake. She drank a glass of water from her nightstand, hugged her stuffed bear, and covered herself in quilt. She had the sense that someone will grab her foot if she goes out of bed, so she suffered through the pain.

 

“Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, Clementine…” she whispered trying to distract herself from the throbbing pain. “You are lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry, Clementine.” She repeated the song over and over making her eyelids and her breathing heavier. She kept singing until the glow in the dark stars glued to the ceiling looked like flickers of light in a blurry night sky.

 

She found herself in an ice cream parlor. She was reading a book about wars and politics although she didn’t understand anything she just read. She was flipping through the pages when her order was served. It was pistachio ice cream served with wafer sticks, chocolate bars, and syrup. That’s weird. I’m allergic. Why am I eating this? She took a spoonful of the ice cream, placed it on the wafer and had a bite. The cream melted in her mouth and she was left with an interesting aftertaste of the nut and dark chocolate. Yum…

 

She observed the old pictures of soldiers, corpses, and indigenous people. The rest of the day happened in a flash. One moment, she was in the parlor, then, she was in an office and before she knew it, she’s back in her house, a wrong house. She had this oddest sensation. She knew this wasn’t her house nor her room, but she felt at home in it. Her body didn’t listen to her either. She had this chaos going on in her mind but there seems to be another brain controlling her body. The calmer, more functional brain leads her to the bathroom and she took a long warm shower. She brushed her teeth and smelled the alcohol in her breath. Wine and toothpaste sure didn’t go well with each other. Is this how alcohol tastes like? These new knowledges never fail to surprise her. She’s so much more intelligent in her dreams. She went back to bed when she remembered something.  Did I just pee standing up?

 

She woke up the next morning and went downstairs toward the kitchen in her pink pajamas. She’s rubbing the morning off her eyes and asked her mom what’s for breakfast.

 

“Pancakes, your favorite,” her mom answered. “You look tired, Tabitha. Did you sleep well?”

 

“No, Mommy. My stomach hurt last night so I drank water and sang Clementine.”

 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she looked worried now and checked Tabitha’s temperature through the back of her hand.

 

“I was afraid to go out of bed. It’s okay. I dreamed I ate pistachio ice cream!” She sat on her place at the table and drank the warm chocolate milk her mom had prepared.

 

“Well, might as well dream about it honey. If you have it for real, we’ll be taking you to the doctor again for a shot. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” Her mom smiled thoughtfully and kissed her on the temple. “What else did you dream about?”

 

“Hmm… I can’t remember the rest although I peed standing up.” She doused her pancakes in syrup and started eating.

 

“What? Honey girls shouldn’t pee standing up. Only boys do that!”

 

“No, Mom. I meant in my dream. I had a penis and peed standing up.” Her mouth was covered in butter and syrup when she was done eating.

 

That night, her mother stayed by her side until she fell asleep. She checked if the toilet was clean. She also made sure that the glass of water was full, sang a lullaby, and fluffed her pillows before leaving. Tabitha’s sleep was uninterrupted that night.

 

She was back in her office working on the computer. She saw numbers in a spreadsheet and answered a lot of phone calls. Her body isn’t listening to her again. That night, she went to a bar with her coworkers. She had a couple of beers, ate a lot of fries and went home. She whistled to hail a cab. Wow, that’s a great whistle sound.  At her other house, she stumbled at the door rummaging under the plotted plants and rags for her key. She found it under the welcome mat.

 

She slept until 10 in the morning and when she went down for breakfast…

 

“Good, afternoon, Sweetpea! I thought you were gonna sleep through the whole day,” she chuckled while taking the bacon out of the oven.

 

“Mom, I’m so tired. I went inside someone last night.”

 

“You mean the same guy you always meet when you sleep?”

 

She started explaining and tried her best to sound convincing. “No, I don’t meet him. I AM him. I peed standing up and I got drunk like Dad, but I didn’t throw up. Then I shaved my face. I also went to work and wore big shoes!”

 

Her mom smiled knowingly. The psychiatrist told her that it’s normal for her age to have some sort of penis envy and that she may begin imitating either her or her husband. I think she made a choice already. She’s still a bit worried, though. How can she know what a spreadsheet is and about shoe labels? She shrugged the thought off and decided she just have a very smart daughter.

 

“You have such active imagination, Sweetpea.”

 

 


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