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I listen to the crackling wood as it burns, and see the soft yellow glow as she feeds the fire with paper and wood. I watch the magical world through a small window. Heavy snowflakes calmly fall from the skies, covering the ground with a crispy coat as nature sleeps, lulling me back to sleep.
“You will be all right, my child. I promise. Stay warm, go home. You are lost.” Her soft comforting whispers follow me to the dream, to the leafy covers enveloped by the roots of the majestic tree.
I let my boys go with my grandma, while I rest under the tree, lost and cold.
Gradually, my consciousness returns. I slowly open my eyes to find myself lying on the soft snow-covered ground. Actually, it’s a white cushioned cave. The dim light’s shining from the ceiling, and I blink my eyes as I try to grasp why my hands are not moving. My dry throat makes me want to cough as I try to force the words, but no sound comes out.
Finally, I wiggle into a sitting position, pushing myself until my back is pressed against the soft wall. My breath increases with the sense of déjà vu, and I try to come to terms with where I might be. Gathering my courage, I look down at my unresponsive limbs. The sleeves are tied behind my back, like those used to tame a mental patient. The cave is indeed a restraining chamber.
Panicking, I wiggle and twist, hoping to escape the restraints, as dread settles in my chest. My screams are muffled as I wail, and my throat closes, going mute. A great sense of betrayal overwhelms me, as a
resonating wave of rage stirs inside me. I slide down the walls, heaving.
What did I do wrong to deserve this? Why I am here? Please, let me go! Silent words trapped in my mind circles. Why did no one stop them from taking my freedom away?
Collapsing, I recall my family with determined expressions. Dad grabbed me, holding me in his shackles, while I squirmed like a screeching trapped animal. Mum pushed me down on my knees, and the rest helped to hold me down. Raine enclosed my head, stopping it from banging into any obstacle, while Aisha held my hands, whispering “calming” nonsense.
Their goodbye kisses and words of love were like poison. The worst damage was inflicted by my sisters. Their treachery to team up against me punctured my heart. The slick malicious betrayal still churns inside me.
Here I am, in a padded room, with tied hands and my soul crushed and broken. The traitorous fate is a bitch, pitiless and cruel. Never mind, I will find a way to screw them all. The heat gathering in my chest announces a fierce entity rising, churning and burning all the pain and helplessness with rage and fire, molding and changing me to survive.
I will never be helpless again! I promise myself never to be pinned down.
The woven lies will be the smokescreen, you see. The shields I will wear to protect them. Every memory, I wrap in love, and hide from the world to see. Later, my children, I’ll come to grieve! Cassandra, rise.
Dressed in white, two women come and force down the tablets for me to swallow. I lay there with cheeks wet, bound. My drugged brain shuts down, bringing a strange sense of peace that dulls my own mind. There is no loss. No love. No pain. No joy.
I am floating like an astronaut in space. Darkness is soothing me. The room saturates with sounds of a monotonically whooshing sea and beeping alarms, trying to wake me. Strangely in this state, I hear them talking, trying to reach me through the haze.
“Hey, sister, it’s me.” Warm chapped lips brush against my forehead gently. The hot drops fall onto my skin, and a salty well of memories pulls me into a vision.
A giggling impish girl, just four years old, with beautiful long white-blonde hair and blue eyes, watches the play made by her big sisters.
In a carbon box, Raine and I glued trees and made snow from the cotton wools. The small house we built from the sticks glued together, sits in the middle of the carbon box theatre. We worked all day, creating this scene for our little sister, Aisha, who still believes in Christmas magic. We made even curtains in the front of the box, from the old velvety brown dress fabric with snowflakes stitched on it.
The magical winter wonderland, with snow and glitter, has fascinated the little munchkin, who impatiently waited for the story to begin. Small rubber animals that her big sisters always played with will become the major characters of the winter story they preparing for the family to see.
Clapping her small chubby hands, Aisha squeaks as we make the rubber bear attack a little rabbit. She shouts for the rabbit to run as the bear makes roaring sounds. In a very deep voice, the bear menacingly threatens the sweetest animals.
Then, Mummy rabbit comes to chastise the bear for threatening her bunny. She promises that the flu she caught is magical and kills all the animals in their sleep.
“If you remain here, I will unleash the deadly sneeze fury on you! Do not dare to harm my child, Bear, or I will allow the flu to run free and kill you!”
The big sisters watch the little munchkin, who bounces in excitement. The room is submerged in the darkness, with only the Christmas tree lights twinkling, and the table lamp illuminates the carbon box theatre for all the family to enjoy. The intimate and enchanted room fills up, pure joy burning in our chest.
The next memory washes away the enchanted one, with the little girl now running around the house, trying to catch her big sisters.
“Please wait, I want to go with you! Please, sisters, you can’t leave me alone!”
They’re both running to get away from her, as their friends are waiting at the park. No one wants to play with an annoying little sister who doesn’t understand the word privacy.
“Don’t leave us, Cassandra. Stay. Fight. Don’t give up. I have so many things to tell you. There are many mistakes I made, the wounds inflicted I want to make up for.”
The whooshing sound reaches me, as if some sequence is set. Her lips brush my knuckles as she cries silently, muffling the noise in the sheets.
“I want you to know that we were wrong to lock you up in that hospital. Instead, we should have worked harder to give you support. We were afraid. I never felt more helpless than when your kids died. The family was undone. I thought the time in the hospital would help you to cope with loss and pain, but we made things worse. I know that now.”
Confused, I listen to her voice floating around, bouncing off the walls and then reaching my heart.
