Dreams

The dreams are back, and I’m afraid.  I don’t want to go to sleep and I can’t tell anyone, because they’ll try to put me in the hospital again.  What am I going to do?  I can’t tell Richard; I know he loves me very much, but will he understand?  I’m not crazy, but afraid of the problems these dreams can, and will cause.  I have to figure out what to do, before things get worse.  People just don’t understand what the dreams can mean.  It’s been a long time since I’ve had one like this; I thought they had stopped forever. 

Richard doesn’t know about the dreams from my past.  I’ve hidden this from him for over two years now, because after not having a dream in such a long period; I thought they were gone.  What will he do or say if he finds out?  Will he leave me or will he have me hospitalized as the courts did before when charges were brought against me, because of the dreams?  Oh, I am so afraid!  Maybe I should call Dr. Ralph.  Somehow, I know he will want to start testing me again, and then all hell will break loose.  What am I going to do?

     They started when I was only about 8 or 9 years old.  The first dream that I can remember was about my father, Travis.  He is a tall man, about 6 feet.  He is light brown creamy complexion, because his mother is of Indian descent and his father is half white.  Daddy has nice, straight, fine hair, to me, he’s very handsome, and I love him dearly.  I know my mother, Marion, loves him too, but probably not as much as she use to.  Daddy has a problem with alcohol, and is unable to keep a job for very long.  When he does have a job, he doesn’t always bring his money home; which puts a burden on Mama.  She has to figure out a way to feed us and pay the bills.  Mama is a small woman, just 5’4”, brown skin and very pretty.  There are three of us children, and she loves all us very much, although, I think she loves Ronny most of all.  Sterling is the oldest; I’m the middle child, and only girl.  My name is Joan.  Ronny is the baby of the family, but he thinks he’s the oldest.  He likes to fight, so he sort of looks after Sterling in that area.  I think Ronny would rather fight than eat.  He is always fighting for one reason or another.  It’s as if he was trained for fighting, and he don’t mind doing it.  I can take care of myself; I don’t like confrontations, but I will fight if I have to.  I think Ronny would rather fight than eat.  He is always fighting for one reason or another.

            We lived in a small rural town in northern Texas called Cleveland.  It’s sort of a sleepy little town where everyone knew everyone else.  (There were no secrets that wouldn’t be revealed sooner or later, because everyone talks.)  If I were to go over on Front Street to play, by the time I got back home, Mama knew every moved I had made, we had to be real careful to stay out of trouble, or at least stay out of the eye sight of grown-ups.  The neighbor will give you a whipping if she catches you doing something wrong, and then send you home to get another one. 

     There was a wooded area behind our house and back in the woods is a gravel pit, where we would play often, our secret place.  There were all kinds of little forest creatures that we enjoyed watching, and sometimes chasing. The only ones that worried me were the Armadillos.  But cornered, the Armadillo would roll into a ball to protect itself.  They would steal everything they could; colorful things, especially yellow pencils.  The Armadillos would even come up to the house and steal things.  One day, mama wasn’t home, and the front door was locked.  I put my books on the steps and went to check the back door to see if I could get into the house.  The back door was unlocked, so I went through the house to get my books off the front steps.  When I opened the front door, an Armadillo was running off with my yellow pencil.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch him, so I didn’t bother; I just had to get another pencil.

 &nbs