Page 118 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

My greatest fear has been turning into Ray, and here I am, one bad decision away from stepping into his shoes. I nod, feeling my throat swell uncomfortably under the weight of his truth.

“Eat. Then go to sleep, and tomorrow, we’ll start over.” He gives me a pat on the back, then takes the seat right beside me. We eat in tandem, and then sit there for a long while after, neither of us talking, but neither one of us leaving either.

“Wake up, Alex.” It’s her voice, again.

No, it’s their voices mixed.

Huh?Everything is foggy, but there’s a gentle hand on my shoulder, nudging me, rubbing.

“It’s time to wake up, my love.” Today’s the day.

I don’t want to wake up.

I crack my eye open, and just like it was the day before, my mom’s face is swollen and blackened beyond recognition. I look down at my body, the body of a six-year-old, in a wooden bed with an American flag quilt.

It’s a fucking dream.The same one I’ve had for three decades. It’s the morning I leave for Arizona to go live with Ray.

“Mom,” I’m crying. “I don’t want to go,” I tell her like I wanted to that day but couldn’t muster the courage to actually say.

“Oh, baby.” Georgia leans over me, hugging me. “Then you won’t go.”

I can’t go live with Ray, I can’t.“I don’t want to live with him, I didn’t mean it!” I sob against my mother’s floral robe.

“That’s all you had to say. You’ll never have to live with him if you don’t want to, I promise.”

I sniffle, “Okay.”

“I love you, Alexander.”

“I love you, too.” Even in my dream, my stomach turns, and my mind laughs at me.This isn’t a dream, you fool; this is a nightmare.

“Wake up!” I inhale sharply at the knocking on the door and then a woman’s voice. “Listen, I don’t really need to be babysitting another fully grown adult, so get up and get dressed. You have an appointment in 30 minutes.”

I don’t recognize the voice. Hell, I barely recognize the room I’m in. The dream felt almost tangible. I wanted it to be. I thought I could reach out and touch her…

It started with Emma, and then somewhere…it changed to Georgia’s voice, and I was back in the same variation of the dream I’ve had for years. Theyseemlike a dream. They lure me in by recounting the past, but always with new words and different outcomes.

It’s a taunt, the dream always morphing into a nightmare. Because the nightmare isn’t reliving what actually happened, the nightmare is waking up and living with what might have been.

What might have been…

I shower, trim my beard, throw on some clothes Brit dropped off for me, and head for the kitchen.

Still feel like dying.

My head pounds and my palms are already sweaty, but I’m here. Existing and on time. I don’t know what more they could possibly want from me.

“Morning, Alex,” Connie says from his seat at the breakfast table. “You’ve met Gina before, right?” Yeah, and I’ve heard about her, too. My sister isn’t a fan, which means I’m not either.

“Yeah,” is all I say.

“Great seeing you again, too,” Gina rolls her eyes, then pours me a cup of coffee.

“Is it safe to drink?” I look at Gina, then to Connie, who bursts into laughter.

“At your own risk, but whatever you decide, hurry up,” Connie says, nudging my cup closer.

“Why, where are we going?”