Chapter 4 - Nightmares

It was a fairly quiet ride home, nothing that would be too out of the ordinary in any other circumstance, Amy had been a quiet kid ever since the accident, but after today's events, Farrah expected her daughter to be a little more responsive.

"Sweetie, talk to me. I thought you would be more excited," Farrah prompted the tiny blonde girl in her rearview mirror only to be met with silence. "Do you not like him yet?" Amy continued to chew on her thumb, eyelids half shut from today's exhausting events. If Amy's father was still here, he would tell Farrah to stop pushing her. She's only five, he would say. She's tired and she doesn't understand. Amy made up for her father's absence by saying this in fewer words - actually, no words, because after being met with silence for the entire drive, Farrah decided she would try again later. She carried Amy upstairs and tucked her into bed, whispering that they could talk when she woke up from her nap.

As soon as Farrah shut the door, Amy began pulling at her watch. They were not designed to be easily removed by children, but Amy had seen how her mother took her watch off before bath time. She subconsciously kept that skill buried in the back of her mind, as if it was a paranoid backup plan that she never thought she would a reason to use. Even at five, Amy had anxiety through the roof. The death of a parent causes children to grow up too fast, she overheard her doctor tell her mother no more than three months ago. But she's only five, Farrah sobbed. It doesn't matter, he continued. The nightmares will last for a long time.

The nightmares were always the same. She sat in her carseat, screaming for her father to stop for a treat. I'm so hungry, Amy wailed. I want a candy bar. Her father was at his wits end. He had to drop out of college to work extra hours at a lousy paying job to cover the expenses of a kid he accidentally had with a woman who wasn't even his soulmate. Amy didn't know any of this, nor would she understand it, she had only just turned five. All she knew is that she wanted a candy bar.

"Oh, just pull into that gas station," Farrah ordered. "She didn't have enough to eat for lunch. We need gas anyways."

Her father blindly pulled in, prompting Farrah to take Amy inside to get her treat. The nightmares always turned around this point. Amy would happily take her Crunch bar up to the counter, only to hear a loud bang and screaming from the parking lot seconds later. She heard screaming, but she still tugged at her mother to buy her candy bar first, crying when her mother ran towards the parking lot instead. This haunted her. She didn't think anything of it, she just wanted her candy bar.

Selfish. She had first heard the word on the Teletubbies, when Dipsy wouldn't share his toys with La-La. She laughed when Po snuck in to steal his toys while he was sleeping to give to La-La. Dipsy was upset when he woke up. Serves him right, Amy thought. Po lectured Dipsy. If he had just shared his toys with La-La, he would still have something to play with. What goes around, comes around, Tinky Winky snickered.

She didn't know what had just happened in the parking lot on the day of the accident, but she knew in her nightmares, but she still begged for the candy bar, physically attempting to pull her mother to the counter. "Amy," Farrah scolded. "Someone could be in trouble, don't be so selfish." It was too late, though. Nothing could have saved him. He was gone before the first scream had reached her ears. Her father was gone, and it was all because she wanted a candy bar.

Amy had never said out loud that she felt guilty for what happened to her father, she wasn't even sure if she could put in words what she felt, but Farrah knew. It was an awful burden for a child so young to carry. "It isn't your fault, Amy," her psychologist would tell her during their tri-weekly sessions. Every session had the same message: sometimes bad things happen, but you can't blame yourself. Of course, that didn't stop the nightmares fueled by guilt, not even close.

A few muffled sobs later, Amy finally managed to rip her watch off her wrist. She buried the problem-causing watch under some junk in her nightstand drawer. She stared out her window and noticed a truck moving furniture into the house across the street. The new neighbors had been moving in for over a week now, but she had yet to catch a glimpse of them until today. She opened her window to eavesdrop on the excited new couple.

"I'm so glad we finally got out of that old, cramped house, Lucas. It was too small for two kids. I can't believe we waited so long to move."

"It's not about the size of the house, Molly," Lucas reminded her. "It's about the love that fills it."

"You're so right, dear," Molly glanced up. "With little Zen and Karma, there's almost too much love to go around!"

Amy's stomach clenched when she heard the name Karma. It could be a different Karma, she thought. This hope was shattered when she saw two children excitedly run out the front door. One was a little asian boy, about eight or nine, the other was the same auburn-haired girl she had met in the ball pit.

"Mom!" Amy screamed. It was too much, too much was happening, she couldn't bury this any longer. "Mom!"

"What is it dear?" Farrah barged into her room. "Did you have another nightmare?"

Amy pointed out the window towards the new neighbors' house. "I know them," she said with a shaky voice. "I met her today."

Farrah was unsure why this was making Amy upset, but lately, everything was making Amy upset, so she decided to ask follow up questions in hopes to calm her down. "Is she your friend?"

"No," Amy nervously fiddled with her hands. "Kind of."

"What's her name, sweetie?"

"Karma," Amy glanced down at the other five year old who was chasing her brother across the lawn.

"Oh, well that's an interesting name," Farrah chimed, hoping that meaningless small talk would help calm her daughter.

"Why?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Amy. It's like karma, that old saying."

"What old saying?"

"What goes around, comes around."