Dream Life

“Lyla come back!” were the only words I could here as my father called for me to come back, I couldn’t he’d done this to me and now he had to pay, I had to get out of here. The smooth ride of my little old red pick-up truck bumping along the old dirt road towards the town I’ve always known. I glanced over at my passenger seat only to see the letters, familiar yet so foreign to me, and my black soccer duffle on the floor. Behind me our house was becoming a blur as I turned the corner.

I flipped down the mirror above my head and a picture fell out, it was of a beautiful woman, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I knew her from somewhere. Her hair was an extremely light sugary blonde with a pink feather and yellow rose in it, crystal clear ocean blue eyes that pierced the picture, she was pregnant, but still looked phenomenal in a floral yellow and pink dress; the woman could only have been about eighteen or nineteen in this picture at about five foot three standing next to the same exact pick-up truck I was in right now. Her smile was radiant, it kind of reminded me of my own, my slightly crooked baby girl smile that got me out of everything.

My windshield started to get wet, so I assumed it was going to start to rain so I better head to Thomas’ house. Knowing him he would kill my father once he found out what had happened, well him or his father, Sheriff Grayson. The road started to move from side to side, as my eyes blurred and everything seemed to be going black, I could hear the rain pour down as the truck started to tip to the side almost as if I wasn’t driving anymore.

Crash. The loud banging of metal and wood bucked the truck, I felt my body go through the windshield and hit something hard. And then it all went black, pitch black like space. If I screamed no one must have heard me. Then I saw Thomas’ face, portrayed in horror as he moved me out and called his father. “You’ll be okay Lyla, I love you I love you I love you, please oh please be okay!” he was mumbling holding my body, everything was blackening again, but I could hear every word he spoke “Lyla Olivia Vander-Scott I love you with all of my heart please live! I should have told you sooner, damn me damn fucking me! Of all the people why was it you! Dear God if you can hear me take me instead! Lyla please don’t die! I love you!”

“Lyla! Lyla! Wake up honey!” a familiar man was knelt beside me by my bed, I gazed around the room, where was I, who’s Lyla?
“Who’s Lyla?” I looked at him in bewilderment “Who are you and where am I?” I jumped up then sat right back down, I felt faint, and tired. Pushing my hair out of my face I felt cuts and stitches, what happened to me?
“You are Lyla, Lyla Olivia Vander-Scott and me, me, I’m your father, and we’re in your room.” He started to go on, but I couldn’t hear him as the door opened and I saw the face from my dream “Thomas?” I asked softly glancing at him in wonder as he came closer and closer.
“Yes?” he replied, so I was right he was Thomas Grayson, the best friend from my dream.
“How do you remember him but not me?” the man who claimed to be my father asked then stood up “I’ll leave you and Thomas to your talking.” And then he walked out of my room.

“Thomas Grayson right?” he nodded as I spoke and mouthed an ‘O’ with my mouth.
“The doctors said you have amnesia, how do you remember me?” that puzzled me, amnesia, even the word puzzled me no one had told me this.
“My dream, you, you were in it, you saved me.” He smiled at me and began to speak.
“Lyla, do you remember anything?” I began to think about it, flashes happened in my mind, flashes of things I had only seen in dreams before, that was all I could remember, then bits and pieces about Thomas, what does it all mean, then the woman’s face.
“Thomas! Do I have a little red pick-up truck?” he nodded.
“Okay, have we ever ridden in it?” he nodded once again.
“Is there a picture in it of a woman?” he nodded no, then where did she come from; I glanced out my window at a barn.
“Thomas, was the truck in the barn?”
“Yes, why?” I sat up and took his hand.
“Thomas take me out to the barn.” He nodded and walked me out the door with a puzzled expression paining his face.

“We already checked the truck where could this picture you’re talking about be?” he asked as we walked in the barn. There was a box in the corner, and he walked over to it “Lyla? This wasn’t here the other night; this was in the back of your truck the other night when I found you and your father took it, saying something about this was his and he forgot to take it out when he was moving things in and out of the barn from the house.” I looked at the medium sized brown box. It read Laura Onya Vander-Scott, then I opened the box, I found the picture, and letters, and pictures of me and the woman, then the woman and my so called father, then pictures of the woman pregnant, then my birth certificate with a James Edward Sawyer and a Laura Onya Vander-Scott written on it, and finally a hospital video tape.
“Thomas I want to go to your house with this box, we need to look at it, I don’t trust this James guy that is supposed to be my father.” Thomas was holding something back from me when I said that, but right now that didn’t matter, I wanted to know what all of this is.

“Lyla are you ready to watch?” Thomas asked me as he popped the video in, I nodded “Thomas I need to watch this.” All he did was nod and hit play.