Often times I will wake up disoriented and dreamy — My grandma merely opened my door, and out of some instinct or perhaps guilt, I lunged out of bed and quickly came up with apologies

“Sorry, sorry, I’m getting out of bed now,” “Did I not hear you call me the first time? I’m so sorry,” “Discúlpame, Abu,”

After all that fell from my lips like foam or sickness, she stared at me blankly.

“Es un sabado, ah…” I heard myself mutter, but it wasn’t me — she was much more little and scared, confused, avoiding punishment and afraid.

‘Solo quería ver si estabas respirando’, was what my Grandma said to me, gave me a chore, then left my room.

I can’t tell if it’s part of being multiple or if I was simply so engrossed in my dream, a continuation of the last one, that I was fearful and timid and everything I’m not supposed to be.