93. Mother

Callista.

The dark-haired man sputters, shock evident on his face. He looks back at my mother and me several times before taking a deep breath. When his eyes find mine again, there is an unprecedented sorrow in his expression.

I don’t know why I never expected to see that, but it surprises me, nonetheless.

"Your mother isn't real, Callista." The dark-eyed man says with a gentle voice. "You're dreaming. It's raining and you're in an illusion. You know this deep down, don’t you? Wake up, please, before you do something bad."

I feel hurt. “Why would you say that? It’s not very nice.”

The dark-haired man groans. “I know, I’m screwing this up yet again, but that’s the truth and it’s not nice. But she is not real. I’m sorry, but you have to trust me on this.”

"But it feels so real..." I muse, staring at the beautiful woman beckoning me to join her. I wonder what it would have been like to grow up with her. I don’t think she would’ve called me ungrateful every single day of my life like my a