September 21, 2001
Lexx hated dreaming.
There was a vulnerability while dreaming.
Everything was in shades of grey. Usually he dreamed in color, sometimes in greys with a few prominent colors. This was all grey and dreary, dredged up from old memories. Lexx was aware in that passive state of feeling happy. Laughter filled the area around him, echoing in child-like glee and innocence.
Then, he could see the shadowed forms of two and a small child, most likely himself. For the briefest moment he wondered why it was that while dreaming, one saw themselves from outside and not as actually experiencing what was going on.
They were there and then, one was gone. His father. He couldn’t remember his father from anything other than the viewer files. His mother had saved them for him and it was the only thing he’d been able to keep from his childhood. There was confusion, a lack of real understanding as he saw his mother kneel before him, reaching out to caress a slightly older child. He knew it was him and his mother. Her hair was white, just as he’d remembered it, with streaks of light blue. That was the feature that shone through to him. He couldn’t really remember her face, just that she had been crying when she spoke.
He didn’t understand at that time.
“Lexx, your father isn’t coming home. He saved the Commander’s life with his own.” Her voice and those words, what a way to remember her voice. The child was confused. He didn’t understand. He was too young to know or grasp the concept of death. He cried because his mother was crying.
Then, the child was crying by himself, older and now able to grasp the fact that death meant, they were gone forever. The Commander, the one whom Lexx’s father had saved was speaking to him. His form was massive, tall and intimidating to the small child. It had only been a few years. “Lexx, your mother isn’t coming home. She saved the station’s life with her own.” Those weren’t the exact words, but that was what Lexx heard.
They were gone, both of them. The only family he had known and in the dream he felt the remorse all over again of a lost child in a world he wasn’t old enough to comprehend. The only thing the child could ask in emotion and memory: “What about me?”