“What’s wrong, Thomas? Are you alright?” they asked with worry. “Yeah,” he confirmed, out of breath, “I just had a bad dream. That’s all.” “What about?” “I had forgotten who you all were. I was terrified.” “It was only a nightmare. Nothing to worry yourself over now. How about you get dressed and come down for breakfast. Your mother made pancakes and eggs. They’re waiting for you downstairs.” “Alright. I’ll see you soon,” Thomas sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. He pulled his covers back and swung his legs off the bed. After getting ready, Thomas made his way down the stairs for breakfast. * * * About a month later, Thomas was painting in the kitchen with his brother when the doorbell rang. Both Thomas and Danny turned to face the door. As the ring began to fade, John and Jane ran to meet who was waiting at the door. The opened door revealed several men holding down a woman who seemed to be struggling against. John and Jane took her from the men and thanked them softly. They pulled her over to one of the plush sofas on the north wall. The woman struggled beneath their grasp. The muscles in her arms seemed to have no power over that of John and Jane. “Darling, it’s alright,” Jane soothed. “Please! Don’t make me stay here! I need to get back home! My daughter is alone! I only wanted to help her! She’s sick!” the woman pleaded. “You don’t have a daughter, Emily. We’re your family. You’re home. How about you calm your nerves with some milk. Thomas, would you grab some milk for your sister?” “Of course, father!” Thomas responded, running into the kitchen. He soon returned with a large glass, filled to the brim. “Drink, Emily,” John said calmly, taking the glass from Thomas and passing toward her. “My name is Jessica and I need out of here! I don’t need any of your stupid milk! I’ve heard what happens here! I know why I’m here, but you have to listen to me! I need to get back to my daughter!” “Drink the milk, Emily!” Danny yelled almost angrily. “Don’t be angry with your sister, Danny. She just needs some time to relax.” “I know what the milk does. It will make me forget who I am. It will make 102
WALDORF LITERARY REVIEW
