3- The
Thoughts
I loathed her to an extent where I might be insane, as
if I wasn’t already. She just stood there like a dead log, possibly waiting for
someone to slap her already faded conscience away, or to make her sane again. I
did exactly so, going forward and delivered what would be the most brutal swipe
of my right palm to her damn face. And she flinched, before placing her weak
hands on her own face, touched the scar, and felt the excruciating pain that I
wanted her to experience. Her eyes bled tears, as she slowly raised her head
upwards, staring at me with those seemingly innocent eyes, as if she did not
know what’d she done. I ignored her silent plead for mercy as I looked back at
the location of my mother’s decapitated body, which just vanquished without
leaving a trace or clue. I thought, okay well, my mind was playing its usual
cliché tricks on me again, for the umpteenth time.
How bad could it be?
Until I realized that the girl who I just slapped
wasn’t exactly Eliza. No wait, she was my mother, and well she looked like her.
But my apparently malfunctioned brain decided to alter between the two images
and I grew extremely frustrated of it, and punched the woman’s face, whoever
she was.
“You… Beast!” She somehow ignored the pain and began
to have a major shift in her already wicked attitude. I was certain she might
just suddenly transform into the witch anytime soon, but the worse didn’t
happen. I frowned the most upset frown in my entire frown-filled life; my
eyebrows literally forced my eyelids to appear very, very wrinkled and awkward,
and old. My right hand rose and spontaneously clenched into a cold hard fist
before delivering another punch to my adversary. And who knew how vigorous the
raging flames in my heart were when she simply eschewed the incoming attack with
ease. I was not satisfied.
“My mom was never dead, so stop playing games with me,
so-called brain of mine!” I charged forward, attempting to ram the Eliza-Mother-Witch
“hybrid” with my rough shoulders. I expected it; I just passed through it as if
it were never there the entire freaking time. I glared at a distanced tree, which
seemed way too innocent. My instincts guided me to the particular symbol of Mother
Nature, possibly wanting me to examine it. I mean, how bad could it be?
Well, I repeated that sentence twice, so I should already
expect the worse. But I didn’t notice anything unorthodox about the simple
tree. Except it looked irritatingly familiar, and no my schizophrenic mind
could not and probably never will be able to add thoughts or play tricks which
I never have experienced before on me. So I assumed it was from some distorted
childhood memories that I couldn’t seem to remember. No wait, I did not even
have a proper childhood, as my mind couldn’t translate which thoughts were real
and which were just nasty tricks. My mind was a mischievous one.
Still leaning my back on the ordinary tree, I noticed
the truck was gone, and the road traffic somehow resumed; cars of various
bright and dark colours crossed my eyesight, as I got a sudden urge to go back
home, which was just across the busy road. And I observed the traffic light,
which somehow just emerged out of nowhere, like all of the other random stuffs.
A view of a green patch replaced the red one, as I calmly walked forward, with
utter confidence, knowing that for that moment only, I was the king of the
road.
Until a speeding truck appeared to have its brakes destroyed
by some crap, or the driver had a little too much booze, or he just wanted me
dead.
Whatever, the truck was going to either send me flying
six feet into the air, or eradicate my bodily organs.
And yes, it was the same truck driven by Eliza, which decapitated my “mother”. Well,
that may be untrue as well, I didn’t know. The truck just drifted through me,
as if I were invisible, or invincible, or just not there. My mind never played
me this much before, and I didn’t stress myself too much recently. So I affirmed
my thoughts, and came to a grand conclusion.
“This is a dream.”
Great, so I nearly lost my virginity, fought with a wrecked
bitch that turned into a witch, had my mother ran over by a truck driven by the
aforementioned witch, leaned on a stupid tree on the opposite of my house, only
to let a junk-loaded truck warping through me and finally deduced that they
were all fake. And I couldn’t get out of that dream, and I’d never been stuck
before like that. So I decided to just stroll around, waiting for my false
perception of time to pass. And nothing much happened I guess, except for occasional
sightings of the witch Eliza and human Eliza. I thought for a second, and soon
I saw light a few meters away. It was a small burst of light, spreading to all conceivable
directions, and it was consuming me, slowly.
I might just die a slow death then.
***
“You’re awake!”
“Oh my dear Shadow…”
There were just two separate voices shooting down my
eardrums, each of them filled my thoughts with the clarity that I so
desperately needed. The voices were filled with a hidden symptom of relief, as
if the chains on their legs were unbound. I blinked twice, my eyelids
stretching to the max, before ultimately surrendering to the awe-worthy prowess
of artificial white light. I didn’t know how long has my pupils blinded itself
from realism, but it must be an unpredictably long period of wasted time.
Oh, and I was lying in a white hospital bed, been a while
since I slept on a bed as comfortable and huge as that.
“Mom, where am I?” I was the most curious person, but
my mother refused to acknowledge it, and embraced me with a big warm motherly
hug. She smiled, and I reciprocated.
“You’ve been in a coma…” Behind my mother was a doctor
dressed in white, and beside him was a girl dressed in white. My day was
seriously a white one.
“…for three months.” Well, I wasn’t actually flabbergasted.
At least I could be sure that my mother being decapitated and the witch was
just a mere dream.
“Nice to see that you’re safe Shadow.” She came to the
side of my bed and locked her gentle fingers in between mine. She was Eliza.
My girlfriend.
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