Close Walls- Memories

Sleep pulled at me slowly, like warm water rising around my ankles. The buzzing lights faded first, then the cold room, then the tight knot in my chest. Everything softened, blurred, drifted.

And then I was somewhere else.

Somewhere safe.

The meadow opened around me in a sweep of green and gold, tall grass brushing against my legs as the wind moved through it in long, gentle waves. The sky above was a bright, endless blue the kind that made me feel full and warm and alive.

My mother was there.

She stood a few steps ahead, spreading a blanket across the soft ground. It was the red‑and‑white checkered one we always used. She smoothed the corners with her palms, humming a tune I knew by heart even though I’d never been able to sing along.

When she looked up at me, her smile was the kind that made everything inside me loosen. The kind that made the world feel simple.

She held out her hand.

I went to her without hesitation.

The grass tickled my ankles as I walked. A butterfly drifted past, its wings a soft yellow that glowed in the sunlight. I reached out, and it fluttered just out of reach, circling me once before floating away.

Mom laughed — a warm, bright sound that wrapped around me like a hug. She touched my cheek gently, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. Her fingers were warm. Real. Safe.

We sat together on the blanket. She opened the picnic basket, pulling out sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, a container of strawberries, a thermos of lemonade. The smell of fresh bread and sweet fruit filled the air.

She handed me a strawberry first.

I bit into it, and the juice burst across my tongue — bright and sweet.

Mom leaned back on her hands, face tilted toward the sun. The breeze lifted her hair, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the summer air like it was the best thing in the world.

I lay beside her, resting my head on her shoulder. She didn’t speak — she never needed to — but she wrapped her arm around me, pulling me close.

The meadow swayed around us, soft and slow.

he meadow swayed around us, soft and slow.

A place untouched by buzzing lights.

A place untouched by locked doors.

A place untouched by fear.

Just us.

Just peace.

Just the memory I held onto like a lifeline.