The images come to a screeching halt as the mind breaks into consciousness. The ears feel still numb as the deafening noise slowly fades away into the distance. I hear my own raspy, shaky breath as I swallow mouthfuls of air. The pictures are distorted now, they are moving away. Eyes snap shut again as the breath comes out in heavy gusts, beads of perspiration trickling lazily down the neck. The image was close. Very close. Too close. Too lifelike.
My forehead breaks into a frown as I try to comprehend why I can’t focus my eyes. Was it brighter before or did the room suddenly plunge into darkness? Was the music actually playing or was it just in my head? I could still hear the soft violin somewhere in the background. Like someone is crying. I shudder as I think of what I had witnessed moments ago. I bury my head in my knees as I swear to myself I could have reached out and touched him. I could feel the emotions brewing up. Slowly, like a placid candle flame, before it becomes wild. He was in a picture, a picture that was torn and ragged and black and white, as if from a time long ago and from a place far away. Yes, he was right there. That one sided smile was still intact. The soft chocolate brown luster in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something and then he looked away. It seemed as if I had stopped him, asked him to go. And he was leaving. “Why are you going away?” I wanted to shout. Everything turned bright. So bright, my eyes began to hurt.
And then I heard someone whisper in my ear, “Get up, it’s late”. It was a different voice, and yet it was so familiar. I turned my head to see who it was, but all I could see was a white wall. I didn’t want to get up. I found myself in an unrecognizable place, a vast stretch of land underneath a murky, starless sky. I was screaming and I was not. I was walking and I was not. I was breathing but I could not. And yet I could hear the violin playing. As if someone was hiding somewhere not too far away, looking at me, with melancholic eyes. Foolishly, I dug at the ground with my bare hands, in a futile attempt to find a way out of the mess I was in. “What was I trying to do?”, I thought to myself, as I saw my nails getting clogged with dirt and grime, “to look for somebody or to bury myself in?”
I take a long breath and exhale a sigh of relief as my feet touch the cold floor. It was nothing but a dream.
