Mommy, why don’t I have dreams?

“You’re a reconstructed person.” My mommy tells me.

“What on earth does that mean?” I ask. I was telling my mommy how the other kids had these weird hallucinations when they went to bed, and I was worried they were sick or something. Mommy had explained to me that it’s normal for other kids, and now she was telling me why it didn’t happen to me.

“You left us during the birthing process, and the doctors told us about this new treatment where we could, bring you back to us.”

“Bring me back? Bring me back from where? Where did I go mommy?” Mommy’s eyes are turning red, maybe she’s sick too.

“Far, far away sweetie, so the doctor’s had to replace parts of your body with metal parts, and they had to talk to your brain to tell it what to do.” That sounded cool! It was like I was a superhero.

“Is that why I can run faster than all the other kids? My metal body parts help me run faster?”

“That’s right sweetie, but you still have your fleshy parts to do all the normal things like breathing and making your heart beat. Here.” She takes my hand and taps it on the kitchen sink. It sounds like two pans hitting together. “That’s your metal parts making that sound.” She then taps her own hand and it makes a different sound. “And that’s what a non-metal hand sounds like.” Mommy’s eyes aren’t red anymore, I guess she couldn’t have been that sick.

“What about my brain? Do I have a metal brain?” I tap my skull with my knuckles and it makes a slight clanging sound. I thought all kids could make their heads clang, but I guess it’s just me. How cool for me!

“No sweetie, but they did have to connect your brain to a big computer to tell it how to be a brain. When you went away.” She pauses and searches for a word. “Your brain….forgot…. how to be a brain, so they had to teach it, but they couldn’t teach it how to dream.”

“And that’s why I don’t dream?”

“That’s why you don’t dream.” I start tapping my knuckles on the wall, the floor, my knees, anything I can reach.

“I’m the coolest kid ever!” I declare. My mommy ruffles my hair.

“Yes you are kiddo. Yes you are.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s