I dreamt about Cory all night. First she appeared out of nowhere, having been "missing" for the last year and some odd months. She just showed up on the doorstep, her hair dyed in three fluorescent colors, all vying for attention, all screaming, "Look at me! Please, somebody see me!" As I looked her over- my only thoughts: is she okay? is she okay? is she hurt?- I took in all the piercings- nose, Marilyn, snakebites. I stopped short at her eyes that had that tell-tale glassy look, the pupils enlarged so much they seemed to be eating her face up.
"Mommy, can I come in?" she mumbled, her eyes on the ground once again.
"Cory!" I shrieked, out of my mind with joy to see her in one piece, safe, and standing in front of me. My arms reached for her blindly, and clutched around her all too skinny frame as she stumbled into my eager embrace.
"I don't feel good, Mom." she said, her face deep in my hair.
I looked up when I heard the screen door shut. In walked a young man toting a baby carrier, looking most uncomfortable- his eyes darting, as if to locate the exits before he'd even finished entering the room.
He said nothing to me or to my girl, just set the baby carrier down on the floor in front of us, and fled the room.
"I'm sorry, Mom." she said, and began sobbing in earnest. "Everything is just so messed up. I've missed you so much."
I grabbed her up and held on for dear life. "Cory, everything is gonna be ok."
She was alive. She was home. What else really mattered?
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