34 + rosie FOR THE LOVE OF GOD
things you said in your sleep
i. âDaddy, Iâll protect you.â But you already do. I hope Iâm not heavy, but your will reinforces my spine and I feel I can face it all. You havenât just uttered these precious words, I wrote them down years ago so that I could remember how you were. My journals, my black books, became pages that Iâd reread when Iâd forget how quickly time passes. In this book, youâre seven and your head rests on my lap. Iâve turned the TV off because I know the slightest noise will wake you when youâre napping like this. In anger, half an hour ago, you ripped your favourite sweater and looking at it now reminds me that I canât protect you. But I also shouldnât want to, because to feel is to be vulnerable and you need anger to teach you humility, and to teach you resolution, and forgiveness. I found an old journal from when you were young, and memories flooded as if everything happened yesterday. I do not age, Iâm old forever; if not for you, my life would feel like limbo. This said, I canât wait until youâre grown and youâre out there experiencing the world. I hope itâs kinder to you.
ii. âMaxine,â you whine and a shot of dread pales my face. I turn the television up, hoping to wake you. As long as youâre safe, I donât mind what you do or who you see, but under no circumstances do I want to be in the same room as you mutter your ex-girlfriendâs name in your sleep. Just in case. MTV wakes you and pop-trash greets you back into consciousness. With a heavy frown on your face, you turn to me and say, âyou know when you wake up wanting to kill someone?â I exhale a sigh of relief as I turn the volume back down, and you donât notice either.
iii. âNot the tomatoes!â You sat up for this one, fear in your eyes as they connected with mine. You looked around yourself, and took out your phone as you lay back down. I watched the device fall on your face and I winced for you, because you seemed already too deeply asleep. My eyebrows donât raise more than a centimetre, itâs not the first time youâve had weird nightmares. Later, You looked horrified when, at dinner, I served you spaghetti bolognese. You never explained your dream, but you seemed to eat with a sense of purpose, like you were taking revenge. Youâre such a weird kid.














