My relatives were taking care of my sister because of her pregnancy. Few hours later , when they returned with my mother, I thought that they were joking and everything was a lie . I looked at her and my brain just stopped working. I knew it was her, but it didn't feel real. It felt like I was watching a movie of someone else's life. Everything went quiet. I tried to speak, but I forgot how to make sounds. I just stood there, feeling like I was made of stone. I kept waiting for her to move. When she didn't, the world felt like it broke in half. To confirm the situation I made a big mistake.
I reached out and pulled on her arm, waiting for her to wake up and tell me it was just a bad dream. I pulled harder, thinking if I shook her enough, she would open her eyes. But she didn't move. She felt as cold as a piece of ice. I kept telling myself, "This isn't real. This is just a nightmare." I grabbed her hand to pull her up, but her body was heavy and limp. That's when I saw some blood coming out from her nose. It was dark and real. Seeing the blood made everything crash down on me. It wasn't a dream. The heat of the shock hit my face, and my heart felt like it will explode . I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. My brain just gave up. It was too much to see, too much to feel. The blackness rushed in from the corners of my eyes, and I finally let go of everything. I didn't want to be in that reality anymore. My mind shut the door and turned off the lights. I fell into the dark, hoping I would never have to wake up and remember what I just saw.
Few hours later , they took me to arrange her funeral. My friends were with me and requested me to eat something but I couldn't. After completing the rituals, I couldn't remember how I reached my home . I just came back , ate something and slept.
In my dreams I saw my mother, she said , "I'm alright. Everything was just a show . They had been deceiving you . Because you are so simple and believe in everything . " Then they were making fun of me.
Some times later , someone called me and I woke from my beautiful dream.
The transition from the dream to the waking world was like being plunged into ice water. One moment, I was bathed in the glow of my mother's presence, feeling safe and seen; the next, I was just a girl in an empty bed, staring at a ceiling that seemed too far away. The contrast was agonizing. In my sleep, I was whole, but the morning light revealed the jagged edges of my grief. It was a hollow, aching sensation—as if the dream had carved out a space in my heart just to show me exactly how much was missing. I lay there, paralyzed by the "cruel mercy" of my subconscious, listening to the hollow ticking of the clock that marked a future I didn't know how to live.