My Childhood Home

As I lay here with my eyes closed, I can smell the sweet grass in the field near my childhood home, I can feel the warm sun on my face and I can hear the birds singing to each other. I slowly drift into a state somewhere between waking and sleeping.

I can feel the cool grass pressed against the backs for my arms and legs and I can see the blinding light of the morning sun creeping higher and higher over head. All the while, I continue to drift between waking and sleeping.

As the wind blows in an afternoon thunderstorm, the sun begins to disappear behind the enormous gray storm clouds. The grass tickles the side of my face as it dances in the wind, though I still drift between waking and sleeping.

With the sun invisible behind the dark storm clouds of the afternoon thunderstorm and the cool raindrops beginning to fall, I can feel myself leaving my state of drifting but I fight to hold on to the sweet smell of the grass and the warmth of the summer sun, for this is a place of eternal happiness, a place that I wish to stay forever.

As I return to full consciousness, I begin to look around. The bright warm sun and the sweet grass have been replaced by a single dim florescent light in a cold padded room. It is all coming back to me, I am still here, the same place that I have been for the last 15 years. I am in my room at the Mercy Hills Asylum and my morning medicine has finally worn off.

Someone will bring dinner soon and my evening medicine. Don’t worry, field of grass and warm sun, I will return to you soon, I always do.