It Was Only a Dream

Response to prompt #46, "The Antidote." You know how you don't know what you're going to write about, how you're going to approach a prompt until you just do? It hits you, seemingly out of the blue, but not. The ideas have been brewing, and every time one of your brilliant Trailbrazen sisters posts a piece of writing, an article, or simply makes a comment, she adds to your inspiration.

It Was Only Just a Dream

"Take this," she whispers in my ear, a bright white light radiating from her. "It is the cure for the things that ail you, torment you."

I take stock of the pill cupped in her hand. It's the size of two prenatal vitamins put together, and just looking at it makes me gag.

"What's in it?" I ask, not sure if that will make a difference.

She looks at me knowingly, as if she anticipated my wariness. Yet, she remains patient as she answers me. "It's packed with good stuff: patience, compassion, understanding, empathy, gratitude, perseverance, faith, and most importantly, love."

"Oh, yeah," I say, adding a huge eye roll. "Love cures everything."

"Not just love alone, but all the things that go with it." Her impossibly bluer-than-the-sky eyes pierce my armor of distrust, bore a hole in my hesitation.

"Are you giving me a choice?"

"Not really."

I attempt some humor to diffuse the horror of having to swallow such a large pill. "Does this come in liquid form?"

"I'm afraid not."

I sigh.

"It's a slow release pill," she explains. "It will sustain you for the rest of your days, the antidote to your frustration and sadness and irritation."

I swallow hard. She hands me the pill, along with a golden liquid.

"What's that?" I asked, eyeing the glass suspiciously.

"This elixir will help the pill slide down and will help you digest it," she says. "I'm not going to lie to you, this is a hard pill to swallow. It means the end of your complaining and judging and bitterness."

"What if I'm not ready to give all that up?" I cry.

"You are."

I put the pill in my mouth, gagging as I chase it down with the liquid. It helps, but it doesn't make it pleasant. It hits my stomach like a rock, and I fight not to wretch it back up.

She smiles as she moves away from me, ascending slowly and quickly at the same time into the darkness.

I awake with a start, trying to shake off the chills that have taken over my body.

It was only a dream. I tell myself. Just a dream.

I place my hand protectively over my stomach area, feeling as if I've swallowed a rock.

A distant voice whispers, "You now have the antidote. Go in peace."

It was only a dream. Just a dream.