The characters in this story are all over eighteen and the age of consent, sex if it happens is consensual. UK English is the rule: if the spellings Mum, arse or colour annoy you, don't go any further, for the rest of you enjoy.
This is a rewritten version of the original story, which, judging from the comments, left most people confused. Originally I didn't add any markers to show where the dream sequences start, as it was designed to be a rather convoluted dream and I wanted to implant into the story the total sense of confusion you get when you wake up from what appears to be a very real situation. You know when you wake and it takes several minutes to get your head together.
I accept I needed to work on that, I was so wrong in my assumptions since everyone seem not to get the point. I thought that any markers would have killed the whole confusion on waking stance. "Oh yeah, Dream Sequence...." but I was wrong, totally, so here it is again, with I hope, a more coherent narrative, let me know what you think.
I remember the day well, it's imprinted on my mind in searing detail. I stared at my sister seeing her squirm, she was obviously distraught that I knew what had happened.
"I swear I didn't let it happen, I never did anything to encourage him. Please, it wasn't my idea or what I ever wanted, why can't you believe me?"
My sister looked at me with genuine tears in her eyes, I backed down, I always do. she sat crying, I sat next to her and hugged her.
"OK, I believe you, I knew when Mum told me that you would never willingly submit to him, but have you talked to Mum yet?"
"No I was waiting for you, I didn't know what to say. He phoned and told me he told her about an hour ago. He was so smug, so happy, bastard! BASTARD!"
Her eyes looked down and a few teardrops fell from her cheeks onto her blouse. I pulled her closer to me. As we met her head turned and she snuggled into my shoulder, then the tears came. She sobbed for a good fifteen - twenty minutes, my shirt was soaked, but it would dry, I didn't mind.
Al slowly recovered her composure and soon her sobbing stopped, she rubbed her face in a dry bit and let go a hollow laugh. Relaxing I set her free. She had her arm round my waist, she hugged me.
"Mike I'm so sorry, I was ashamed about it otherwise I would have told you straight away, honestly."
I nodded, and hugged her again,
"OK babe, let's go see Mum, she's going to need us more than ever now."
"That fucking shit!" Al screamed, I held her and she patted my back.
"I'm OK, good to go, I'll drive."
I remember that's how it started that day all those years ago. Now I tossed and turned in bed trying to sleep. When it came it was a restless fitful sleep, images, scenes from the day and more came to me, I was struggling through mud as I tried to sort the tangle out, somehow it was real but not right....
I remember the day so well.
I walked from my house with Al and we took her car, She was twenty three, I was twenty eight. We both have dark hair, hers shoulder length, mine cut short, a number four, every three weeks. Al was slim, tall and athletic, with small pert boobs and a firm round arse. Her stomach was flat, almost concave and she wore her blouses short, leaving her navel on view. No piercing for Al, nor tats, that wasn't her style. She wore a short wrap around skirt, well above her knees, but cycle shorts underneath. Don't ask me why, I know, it's Al, she always does things differently. Me I favour t-shirt and jeans or shorts, keep it simple is my maxim.
We sped over to the house in her little Ka, I hated it, it was far too small. I had an old Mondeo, it ate fuel but I loved it. I remember the drive over, silent, concentrating, nothing left to say. She drove skillfully and fast, within the limit, but only just. She knew every Hump, Throat and Speed Camera in a fifty mile radius. She needed too, considering her need for speed. Soon we were outside the old place and we sat looking at it for a few minutes. It looked neat and tidy, lawn mowed, edges trimmed, flower beds weeded, but we knew it was all a front. Sighing, Al leaned on the door handle and reluctantly opened her door. I followed my side and we looked at each other over the roof of the Ka.
"Ready?"
"As I'll ever be.. This is going to be hell."
"Tell me about it, OK, heads up, here we go."
We walked towards the house, side by side, holding hands, like we did at primary school. Reaching the door, we hesitated. I reached forward and pulled the handle, surprisingly the door was unlocked and then the door was open. I pushed forward and let Al come after me into the hallway.
"Hi, Mum! Hi, it's us, Al and Mike, are you here?"
I looked at Al and we waited for a response, nothing.
"Mum!" I bellowed, no answer, we walked through the house, in the kitchen was a note, propped up against the sauce bottle, all it said was,
Sorry,
Mum
xxx
I looked at Al, saw the tears forming and pushed past her to the stairs. I clattered up them my big elephants feet clumping away, the boom of the tread as I hit each one was deafening. I ran to each room, bathroom no! My old room no! Al's room no! Mum and Dad's, there she was looking serene.
In my dreams I can remember how she was, lying there in her room. I thought I could touch her and feel her warm skin as I did that day...
Mum lay on the bed, face up, hands by her side, in her favourite dress, white with a brocade weave over the chest, it flared at her hips and finished at her knees. It was sleeveless and showed a hint of her chest. A single chain of thin gold round her neck and her gold stud earrings. Her eyes were closed, a little liner and some lipstick made her look beautiful. Her hair was immaculate. for fifty one she looked good, no she looked great, she had always taken care of herself, no matter what the circumstances. Mum always appeared perfect.
I remember Al tumbled in and looked at Mum. I approached the bed and touched her hand, it was warm. I touched her neck and just about felt a pulse. On the bedside table an empty pill bottle, a sedative prescribed recently. A tumbler of water had a feint lipstick print on it. I grabbed the phone and dialed the emergency services, requesting an ambulance. I said it looked like an accidental overdose, reading the name of the tablets out to them.
They asked basic questions, which I repeated and Al tried out. Did Mum respond to her name, could she open her eyes, could she move a finger in response to a question. All negative responses. The guy said an ambulance was on its way, expected in eight minutes. We pushed Mum over to the recovery position, Al's request, as she had recently re-taken a First Aid in the Workplace course again.
Mum groaned as we turned her, we didn't know if that was good or bad. We heard the ambulance and again I crashed onto the stairs. As it drew up I ran across the lawn and showed the two guys, who were on their way to meet me, where we were. They carried large bulky bags, but moved incredibly fast. They were already in the bedroom as I stumbled up the stairs. Al had been at the bedroom door to show them the way.
Later Sara, my then girlfriend, now my wife, told me I was tossing and turning, mumbling things and shouting out Al and Mum's name.
Back in the dream the Paramedics made their assessment and asked more questions, they took the pill box and wrote down all the information. They unfolded a stretcher and moved Mum on it, strapping her in and attaching a monitor. They hustled downstairs, but without causing Mum any pain and walked across the lawn. Loading her into the back and strapping the stretcher down, they put on their 'blues and two's' and were away.
Sara said the sweat was pouring off me, and I was crying in my sleep.
