Fever Dream

by Samanta Schweblin

She called you a monster, and I keep thinking about that. It must be very sad to be whatever it is you are now, and on top of that your mother calls you a monster.

I’m just tired, that’s what I tell myself, and sometimes I’m afraid when I think that everyday problems might be a little more terrible for me than for other people.

“Sooner or later something bad is going to happen,” my mother would say. “And when it happens I want to have you close.”

The important thing already happened. What follows are only consequences. Why does the story keep going, then? Because you still haven’t realized. You still need to understand.