Heartbreak Hotel

Grey. Thick, wallowing walls of grey. Almost sticky in its shadowy consumption, reaching tendrils out to grab my pale-skinned body. Piercing my skin, entering my ears, nose and eye sockets. I become the grey as it swoops me up and takes me deeper and deeper into myself.

I wake up gasping for air, my lungs responding slowly as I try to sit up. My body is sluggish, and then I remember how much wine I consumed yesterday; that's hardly surprising. I realise I'm holding my breath again and let it out slowly, simultaneously checking in with my body. Everything seems to be in working order, a bit creaky maybe, but all movable and probably posable. I focus on the rhythm of my breathing, calming it to a steady pace and reach into my ever-busy mind.

The dream comes rushing back. I hear her calling "Mummy. Help me." We are in a maze, and the fog is so thick I can barely see past the end of my nose. A real pea-souper, my Gramps would have said. If I reach out both hands, I can touch the hedging on either side of the maze. I snag my palm on a thorn and withdraw it swiftly. The fog doesn't abate, and her cries are growing further and further away. I begin to jog, feeling panic grip my insides. I crash into something hard, stubbing my toe painfully. I am not wearing anything on my feet. The something is a replica of the statue of David, and looking down, I see my toe is bleeding. I also realise I am naked.

I carefully skirt past David and walk towards the faint sobs, hands out in front of me. Reaching a hedge, I pause and listen. I am sure I hear her on the other side, not far away now, just exhausted from running and crying. "I'm here, Mummy. Come and find me." Taking a deep breath, I reach a hand into the hedge. The pain is excruciating, but I don't care. I extend my arm and finally feel her tiny fingertips just touching mine.

"I'm coming, darling. Mummy's coming." I push my body into the hedge, thorns piercing every part of my skin. I try to recall if I am up to date with my tetanus shots. I keep going until I feel her fingers slipping away from mine, our blood mingling, our cries of pain merging. Then she is gone, and the hedge spits me out just as it has every night since my baby left me. My life has become a nightmare on repeat, and I don't know how to make it stop. Well, I do, but if I leave, then what will become of those I leave behind?