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a dream of reality |
It was cold, loutishly cold. My dilated pupils adjusted falteringly to the stinging incandescent light. My protuberant purple lip and unresponsive hazel eyes sickly struck upon my mien. I grappled awkwardly with the edges of my pajamas, fidgeting and panic-stricken with cold and fear like an iced-up chicken in a butcher’s hand. White. Everything was white. Instead of instilling a perfect immense of stillness by its sanctified tint, it calcified me with its cold-hearted, relentless glare. I was thrown on a white bench within four white towering walls with a white door ajar. My restless eyes searched intently literally upon nothing for clues to answer the most blatant question of where I am. Then, I heard a voice, a calling of my name. I jerked up. It was more like a silent whisper, a barely noticeable tug. It was fleeting, but it was there. Mouth dry, lips coarse, and voice frozen. I’m HEREEEE! I tried to belt out this scorching reply in my lungs for that calling, but my vocal cords were disabled. I tried to shout and yell and shriek again, but nothing, not even a puff of air or a flimsy hum came out of me. The white light impaled me with its ironic stare, ridiculing my preposterous behavior. Breathe. I ordered myself. IN one two. OUT three four. Then, with a surge of simmering anxiety, I barged out of the door. I clanged it hard with one ephemeral sense of liberating lightness, just to find myself trapped in yet another white, nauseating room. But this time, I faltered with the presented two identical white doors, one right before me and the other on the far left. I lunged forward. Bold and Impulsive. This must be an intended trap. I pulled myself to a full stop. Things couldn’t be this simple! Deliberately, I swiveled around and whizzed to the other door at the far left-side corner and wrestled out. Clink. Door closed. The pitch darkness was set ablaze. Here I was, the pitch-dark space suddenly lit up, in yet another desolate room. Recrudescent uncertainty washed me wholly as I inspected the roo with incredulous eyes. I let out a silent chortle at this whole lugubrious drollery. I must must must be in a dream. In front of me were three identical white doors. e doesn’t wait till I was awake to pull me out of unconsciousness. It haunted me minute of my life. White, bleak and revolting. I was thrown on a white bench in a white room, closed. |