I wasn’t sure what to write for this prompt. My life is fairly simple and plain. I wasn’t born during an eclipse like my sister. I wasn’t the first-born in the family, or the last. The only thing that set me apart from my siblings was that I was born with a full head of black hair and olive skin, while they were born with platinum blonde hair and the Irish peaches and cream-colored skin of our mother.
Seriously, our baby pictures look like I came from completely different parents. When mom sent out pictures of me to our family, they called her up asking “Who’s the Asian kid?” I have since then lost my dark skin (for the most part), and my brother lost his hair, but as you can see, I’m still the odd one out.
My siblings are both 9+ years older than me, but that’s nothing special either. My friend Nikki shares a similar age gap between her and her brother. I had an accident when I was a toddler that has left me with a pupil that is permanently dilated, but after the amount of time I’ve spent at the eye doctors this past year, that isn’t all that “wow, really?” either. I know my friends, so I know I’m not the only one who would geek out over the MRI and CAT scan results. Pretty much the only thing that I have encountered that most people haven’t is also something that doesn’t really come up in conversation.
Death dreams. And yes, it’s as ominous as it sounds.
I’ve dreamed of at least six people’s deaths before it happened (No, I would not like one of those special coats that buckle in the back, thank you for asking). They’ve all been family members, or close friends to the family, so it’s not like these dreams can predict catastrophes, but they’ve been accurate enough that when I wake up from one of those dreams, I start preparing to say goodbye. The deaths have all been sudden ones, too, so it’s not like it was a death anyone could’ve seen coming, especially considering I was only eleven the first time I had one. Well, the first one I remember, anyway.
I dreamed that my father was swallowed up by darkness as he was running up the basement stairs. My mother and I were chased out of the house by a flood, and we ran across the street to my best friend’s house, where we got together with his family and floated away to safety, though we left his father behind as well, for some reason.
A couple months later, my father was coming up the basement stairs and a blood clot went through either his heart or his lung (I don’t remember which). He had a seizure, and survived, but later that day, he went to the doctor to get everything checked out, and…well. He never came home. He had another seizure and died on the steps outside the doctor’s office. Nine months to the day later, my best friend’s father died as well.
The last one happened almost two years ago, and the person who died was, as far as we all knew, in the peak of health. If I am remembering correctly, he died of sudden cardiac arrest.
On an interesting note, I have two aunts who supposedly might not finish out the year, and I have not had a death dream for either of them. Not that I’ve recognized, anyway. So who knows how this all works? I certainly don’t, though I would love to figure it out so I can shut it off. Dreaming of people walking away forever, even though it doesn’t happen all that often, is still a draining experience. Especially when you have to live with the fear that the next person you “see” walk away, will be the one closest to your heart.