:: The S.I.C.L.E. Cell ::

my view from the prison of a SICLE (Self-Imposed Child Loss Experience) due to debilitating maternal disease
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:: Thursday, May 22, 2003 ::

I had a dream that my "consciousness" was in a van (I was there but not there). The driver of the van, a young man, was talking with a young woman. He was telling her that whatever she decided was all right with him. There was a long pause. She told him, "Well... I... I think I'd like to keep the baby then." The driver flew into a rage. "THAT'S JUST GREAT!" he screamed as he stepped on the gas and drove erratically down a neighborhood street with no outlet. He was so busy berating the girl in the rearview mirror that he didn't notice the cul de sac.

WHAM! The vehicle slammed into a huge oak tree and a piece of metal sheared off and decapitated the guy spraying the car with blood and sending his dripping head flying into the girl's lap. As she stared in horror, his eyes darted back and forth and the mouth moved open and shut without a sound until expression quickly ebbed.

Her hands were in the air, and where the head lay a large pool of crimson bled through the lap of her white cotton dress.

Suddenly I seemed to be in the vehicle. I was horrified; it was an awful scene. I jumped out of the van (also white) and ran around to her side. The door was smashed in, and I had to use adrenaline force to pry it open and slide it back enough to get her out. There she sat, mouth agape, dead head sitting in her lap like a giant, menacing spider. In one quick motion I batted it away and grabbed the girl who was in complete shock. She couldn't walk or speak or function. I carried her down the street in my arms.

I didn't have to walk far before coming to a house where a nicely dressed mother and her 3 or 4 high school aged daughters were entering a black truck to set out on the all-important shopping spree. I walked up in the driveway cradling this blood-soaked waif imploring "HELP ME!" No one answered. They kept piling into the truck pretending not to see us. After more begging and no results, I walked right up to the mother who was the last person entering the truck. I stood very close to her and just looked at her wide-eyed and unbelieving. I said, "Madame, if you are ever in a desperate situation I hope that you are not so abandoned as this poor girl." She finally deigned to behold the young girl and her face conveyed exasperated annoyance.

At last she sighed, "Oh, ALRIGHT ALREADY! Put her in the truck and I'll drive her to the hospital."

"But MOM!" the girls whined.

"Never mind, girls!" she snapped as she motioned for them to get out of the truck. The shopping trip was most decidedly cancelled.

I stretched the girl out on the floor behind the seats and backed away from the vehicle. My heavy arms ached as I watched them speed off down the road.


:: ashli 7:44 AM # ::

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