Rapid Illusions

Rushing waters. Lush greenery. A lie that felt, sounded, and tasted real.

Behind my childhood home, through the dense woods, about a mile down the road, once you've not so legally passed through two yards in a trailer park, you'll find it.

It's large and beautiful, something out of a movie.

I begged my mother many times to take me to see it, but she only ever grew confused at my requests.

Despite her denial, I knew what lied there.

A waterfall as large as the monument I went to for my second grade field trip. It stood proudly against the backdrop of the suburban neighborhood that shied behind it, vines and trees sticking out of the side, begging to be climbed.

Memories filled my head, yet no one else seemed to remember.

That was fine, I thought. I would convince them.

I thought the waterfall looked best at night, where the starry sky glittered off of the flowing rapids. So, just after my mother fell asleep, I took off to prove it.

The path was different than I remembered, but after walking further than anticipated, I found the trailer park I recalled. Before I could even pass through the first yard, a vicious dog barking paled my skin, making me nervous. However, I had something to prove, venturing on.

I got to the woods, trees standing smaller and slightly different than when I had seen them before, but the very idea of being basically correct up to that point drove me on ward.

As a pre-teen, I finally allowed myself to understand that the waterfall was, in fact, a dream. A reoccuring dream that felt so real, I had tried to convince my entire family that it existed for six years.

I still recall the anguish on my mother's face when I came back home the next morning.

The police in the living room.

My brother hitting me in the arm, then pulling me in for a hug.

The despair I felt knowing that the beautiful scenery I thought was so close to me was a wonderful lie I constructed because I wasn't happy with the yellowing plains I saw around town.

But it had looked so real.

Felt so real.

Even tasted real.

...

It had been a lie, hadn't it?