2_Nightmare

“MUMMY!!”

The seven year old boy called out, his small voice echoing through the cozy living room.

“Yes baby, do you want something?” His mother answered softly, turning from the kitchen counter with a gentle smile.

Climbing into his mum’s lap, the boy nestled close, burying his face in her chest. “Don’t ever leave me mummy. I want to be with you forever... promise to always be here mummy.” The boy said in his own childish voice, the words laced with innocent desperation.

“Baby..............”

The hesitation in her voice was clearly there. It was like she had something to hide, a shadow flickering behind her eyes for just a moment.

“Honey, I also hope God keeps us together forever too.”

But in her mind, her thoughts were different. "Promise are meant to be broken my love, but I never wish to break this one..."

---

Another year. Another time.

Somewhere in the cold, sterile hospital.

The same boy, now looking haggard at nine years old, stood beside his mother’s hospital bed. Her soul was already far beyond this world, her once warm hand now limp and icy under his fingers.

“MUMMY PLEASE!!!! You promised, you promised mummy!” Cried the boy, shaking the unresponsive cold body on the hospital bed. His small shoulders trembled violently as hot tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Take him away please,” the doctor ordered the nurse quietly, his voice heavy with practiced sympathy.

“No! Nooooooo! I want my mummy! Mummyyyyyyy!”

The young boy screamed loud enough to chase away the nearby birds outside the window while the nurses gently but firmly dragged him out of the room. His feet kicked uselessly against the polished floor, his cries bouncing off the white walls like shattered glass.

Later on the same day, in the police station, the same boy sat on the cold floor beside a bench. This time he wasn’t shouting or screaming. He was whispering like someone being possessed, rocking himself back and forth in a slow, broken rhythm.

“I want my mummy! 

I want my mummy! 

I want my mummy!”

He didn’t even hear when one of the officers and the social worker assigned to him approached.

“Aiden... we contacted your father and he accepted to be your legal guardian. He’s taking custody of you Aiden... he will get here in a few hours.” The social worker said sympathetically, crouching down to his level, her voice soft and careful.

The young boy, now in a world of his own, kept repeating the same thing, lost in his grief.

“I want my mummy. 

I want my mummy.”

---

MUMMY!!

I jerked awake suddenly, sitting up from my bed with my breathing completely out of control. My heart hammered against my ribs like it wanted to escape. I was sweating even though the AC was on full blast, the cool air doing nothing to chase away the heat of the nightmare.

"Same dream, different night," I thought bitterly, running a shaky hand through my damp hair.

I checked the clock placed on my nightstand. It read 3:42am.

No more sleeping then, I whispered to myself, knowing that even though I tried to go back to sleep, it wouldn’t work. These nights never ended peacefully.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a long moment, elbows on my knees, head in my hands. The room was dark except for the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the half-closed blinds. Shadows stretched across the floor like old ghosts that refused to leave me alone. Nine years old again in my dreams, but the pain still felt brand new every single time.

That promise. Her voice. The way she had hesitated even then. I could still feel the warmth of her lap, the way her fingers had stroked my hair. And then the hospital smell, disinfectant, sickness, and something colder underneath. The way her hand didn’t squeeze back when I shook her. The way the nurses’ grips had felt like iron bars pulling me away from the only person who had ever made me feel safe.

I stood up slowly and walked to the large window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. The city below never slept, just like my mind. Cars moved like tiny blood cells through the veins of the streets. Somewhere out there, people were living normal lives. Laughing. Loving. Not waking up screaming for a mother who had been gone for years.

I wanted to be angry at her for making that promise. For letting me believe forever meant something. But I couldn’t. Not really. All I had left were fragments, her laugh when I told silly jokes, the way she hummed off key while cooking, the secret smiles we shared when the world felt too heavy. And then the emptiness that followed. The police station floor. The rocking. The whispering that never seemed to stop even after they took me away.

My father’s arrival that day had been like stepping into another nightmare. A stranger in a expensive coat, looking at me with eyes that held no warmth, only duty. I hadn’t cared. I just kept whispering for my mummy, even when they placed me in the back of his car and drove me to a house that never felt like home.

Years had passed since then. I had grown taller, stronger, colder in some ways. But the little boy inside still screamed every few nights. Still rocked on that cold floor. Still begged for the one person who was never coming back.

I moved to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water, and drank it slowly. The clock now read 3:55am. Sleep was a distant dream. I knew I’d spend the next few hours staring at reports or watching the city until the sun came up, pretending I was fine. Pretending the past didn’t still have its claws in me.

But deep down, I knew the truth. Some promises break you more than others. And some dreams never let you forget.

I sighed and leaned against the counter, the weight of that little boy’s voice still echoing in my chest.

“I want my mummy...”

The words slipped out in a whisper before I could stop them. Even now. Even after all this time.