TBTT#12 In Soviet Russian, Bad Dreams Have You ~ 6/27/2012

File another one under "my subconscious hates me": I dreamed I was traveling through Russia just after the dissolution of the communist block. I was staying with a family of American expats, father, mother, little boy of ten, little girl of four. The first night, when I went to bed, something in the mattress screeched, and not in a box spring sort of way. I poked around and flushed out a rat the size of a capybara. Or maybe it was a capybara. Anyhow, I caught it in a pillowcase and took it outside and released it in a field. When I came back in, all hell had broken loose. The mother was screaming curses in the kitchen, and whatever her husband was muttering to her was NOT calming her down. The little boy was sitting on the couch staring at the TV through tears, and when he saw me, he turned red and looked away. The little girl was crying, too. Just weeping silently, tears squeezing out of an eye swelling shut and running over a swollen, bleeding lip. Up until now, she'd wanted nothing to do with me, wouldn't talk or look me in the eye, but now when she saw me, she put her arms out and I picked her up and held her. I told her what a big, pretty girl she was, and how she'd be a strong woman some day. She put her little arms around my neck, and her damp little cheek against mine an whispered, "Can you make it better?" I held her and rocked her and told her I didn't know if I could, but I promised I would try my best. And then I woke up.