A little story
I awoke with a start from my nightmare. The recurring nightmare that had been plaguing me for a while now was becoming too difficult to ignore. Choices I’d made earlier in my life had came back to haunt me. Day in day out, I could not help but think of what I should have done instead. Sometimes I wished I could turn back the hands of time and be able to do something about them, alas it remained a wishful thinking on my part and all I could do is to drown my sorrows in hopes of numbing myself.
It was a new day and a beautiful morning. I figured I should forget about the dream and get on with my morning routine – wash up, breakfast and the likes. But as I stared at the ceiling, something out of place caught my attention. Something was wrong — the ceiling looked as though it had been refurbished without my knowledge. Overnight.
On second thought, I doubted it was even my room to begin with. My beloved bonsai pots that I had painstakingly arranged on the window sill were longer there and the windows looked so different now in its shades of blue and black instead of the white that I had coated myself. Scanning the dubious room, I finally rested my eyes on the slightly depressed pillow next to me. There was a pillow next to me, and someone slept on it. And it was not me.
Last I recalled I lived alone in an apartment and I slept on a single-size bed. Did I get so wasted that I landed in somebody else’s room instead? I hated to think so.
But I didn’t have much time to ponder before somebody announced behind the opened door, “Honey, breakfast is good to go anytime you are ready…”, with an accent so lovely I was mesmerized for a minute. Strangely enough, the voice was so familiarly similar to one of my childhood sweethearts whom I had grown to miss so much. And even more strangely, she was addressing me as honey. It felt like a dream came true for a second.
I could not find the words to reply but merely stuttered the simplest form of acknowledge I could gather, “O-O-kay, I’ll be out soon.”
So simple, so cold that perhaps she realized something was amiss, “Are you okay today, honey?”
She called me honey again. But I was not about to scare her by telling her I had absolutely no idea who she was or where I was so I had to put on a charade and return a reply my usual way, “Sure, a little cold doesn’t kill anyone. I’ll take a while, please have your breakfast first.”
Fortunately, she sounded relieved and did not continue probing. Now I had bought myself some time to find out where I could possibly be in, somehow.
Sitting up was a chore as the headache was overwhelming. Damned hangover. I took a couple of deep breath to soothe myself and attempted again, and amazingly this time I succeeded without much difficulties. As I rose, I realized there was a sweet aroma in the room that certainly did not belong in a pig sty such as mine. Seated on the bed, fear started to set in as the truth of not knowing where I was sunk in.
Now I had read and watched many science fiction books and movies, but fantasy was only as far as I could accept. I could not believe what was happening to me now nor phantom how it happened. I had never felt as helpless before and if only there were someone whom I could consult.
Then it dawned upon me to check my identification card. I reached into my pocket for my wallet but to no avail. Puzzled, I searched around. Nope, no luck. Great, now a new question surfaced, “Am I who I think I am?”, and it was not helping a bit to the bad enough situation I was facing.
A mirror would do great! I had to find a mirror and see for myself who I was. I wondered if I could stand up properly since I had a bad time just trying to sit up. Luckily, it was not as bad as I had imagined. Slowly and steadily dragging my heavy legs, I moved across the room to what seemed like a restroom behind the closed door.
And it was. But it did not look half the way it should in my restroom I remembered — the orientation of the sink, toilet bowl and the other items did not relate to the one I had in mine. Refocusing my thoughts I recalled that that was not the most important agenda on hand; looking into the mirror was.
In the mirror, I saw something that did not quite register in my mind. It was a rather haggard reflection looking back at me. But one thing was for sure, it was me behind the unshaven goatee and mustache. Me as in who I thought I was before I landed myself in this plight.
Fortunately, and unfortunately at the same time, now it all went back to square 1: Who is the lady outside, where am I, and what happened?
But before I could find out anything, I knew I had to do something about this unkempt look of mine. I explored the cabinets and on the left of the huge mirror cabinet displayed several toiletries for males – the shavers and the likes. As I washed up, I wondered for a moment if those belonged to me but that quickly escaped me.
I dried myself and walked out of the bedroom with a towel hanging around my neck. Noticing my presence, the aforementioned lady turned around and offered a hug with arms wide open, perfect curves sliding under her silky lingerie, which I reciprocated. I thought it was only polite to do so. That instance, I could smell her long, satiny brownish-red hair. It was the the unmistakable fragrance from a long time ago. She had to be her! I was so sure.
She proceeded to giving me a peck on the left cheek before letting go of her grasp. It felt good, and weird at the same time because she was so familiar yet so unacquainted. As she distanced herself away from me, I could finally see her facial features. The essence of inner and outer beauty radiates through those dark brown eyes of hers. Inside those eyes, I could vividly see the reminiscences of past gaiety spent during our childhood. It was then I loved her so much it still hurt knowing that I would live to regret the choice I made years ago to leave her for silly reasons.
She seemed to have felt my pain. Holding my hands, she guided me to my chair. As she sat across the round dining table that was barely a meter in diameter, she started speaking gently, “Here, have your breakfast.”
I obeyed. It was instinct that I had my breakfast anyway. And as I ate, I stole glances at her. She knew but she continued eating, only looking up to smile at me once in a while, perhaps to acknowledge the fact that while I was happy to have her around, she was as happy to have me around. I firmly believed that was the happiest hour of my life now that the regret turned out to be an happy ending.
Minutes felt like seconds and we were done with our meals. Before I could push back my chair to collect the dishes to the sink, she exclaimed almost nonchalantly, “I’m leaving.” Her smile was no longer hanging on her rose-colored lips and now she looked indifferent.
“It’s too late,” she added. Then gradually, her eyes welled up. I was confused, more confused than I was when I just woke up earlier on. If she had to leave for work, then sure I was cool with it but why would she tear?
A single tear slipped from the corner of each watery eye, followed by a second, and a third.. and more.. They glided gently over her delicate skin, glistening with emotion before dying off at her chin.
I was speechless. There sat a woman crying and I had no power whatsoever to console or even comprehend what was going on. The only thing I could do was to ask, “why?”
She grimaced, “It’s just too late now, it’s impossible now and I have to leave now.” I would never forget how many times she emphasized on the word “now”. I almost hated her for that because that would signify I no longer have a chance to rectify my mistakes and have to bear the regret my entire life till I finally rest in peace in my coffin.
Now that the pain had returned to torment me, making sure I had not forgotten the stupid mistakes I had committed in my early days, I panicked and hyperventilated, resulting in an asthmatic attack in the midst of the confusion. My heart ached so much from both the lack of fresh air and the sense of regret that I was not sure if it was the latter that hurt more. As I collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, I reached out my hand and murmured to her, “I’m sorry…”
Then I woke up.