Chapter 9: Another Long Night
Emily sometimes wondered if she was wired different or if her constant nightmares had messed with her mind so much that she no longer processed things the same. She had been released, that meant she got to go home early.
But instead of feeling happy, Emily had felt like the walls were closing in on her. Home meant she would have to go to bed, that the nightmares would find her again. But home also meant her mother, and while Emily was always glad to spend time with her mom, spending time with her also meant feeling guilt over the fact that her mom thought she no longer had any sleeping problems.
'How did you sleep, sweetheart?' Her mom would ask sometimes and Emily would reply without missing a beat. The practiced lie flowing easily.
'Like a rock,' She would reply, the lie eating away at her.
Even that evening, she had felt guilty. But she had still lied to Derek, selling him a fictional story about sleep that she would never get. But Derek was one of the countless people out there who enjoyed a good night's sleep. He could never understand what people like her went through.
So she'd lied like she always did. Then she went home and lied some more. Smiling and laughing with her mother, all the while knowing that the older woman thought that Emily's sleeping problems were a thing of the past. But Emily consoled herself with the same fact that also filled her with great guilt.
Her mother did not know that Emily was still suffering, so the woman did not have to constantly worry. They made dinner together, talking about this and that, and sometimes just breaking into random songs. The various utensils and vegetables acting as temporary microphones. Their dinner a simple affair, not something that you would find in top class restaurants, but it was filling, and made with love, so it more than hit the spot. Now dinner was over, the dishes washed and put away.
It was late, she should have long started her ruse of sleeping, instead she sat on her living room couch, her mom's head pillowed on her lap. The older woman was fast asleep. Unaware of Emily gently untangling her hair.
If anyone deserved a good night's rest, it was her mother. Jane Molson was a hard worker. Being a home caregiver was not an easy job, but she never once complained about it. Choosing instead to focus on the brighter side of things.