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    A Pierrot's Muse

    False Awakening

    by , 06-23-2010 at 10:07 PM (566 Views)
    Friday 3rd April 2009
    Upon waking from a dream I no longer remember, I opened my eyes a crack and peered out into the darkness.
    I didn't focus much on my surroundings to begin with, however, after a closer inspection (my vision becoming clearer in spite of my eyes remaining half-lidded) I came to the realisation that I was in fact lying in my bed in the living room; right where the chair was supposed to be. The vision in my left eye was hindered due to the obtrusive pillow, my gaze sweeped across the dark expanse of the room before coming to the conclusion that I was still dreaming.


    I attempted to regulate my breathing into a steady rhythm and opened my eyes wider-- still, my left eye was half covered in darkness due to the pllow which my head had sunk into -- On my right eye was what seemed like a scattering of white dust which obstructed my view further.

    I lifted my head -- which felt incredibly heavy -- from the pillow, but in spite of my efforts I couldn't control myself very well and fell limply back onto the pillow.

    Curiosity then spiked and since that getting up was now off the agenda, I was curious as to see what my hand would look like. Would it have more fingers as it usually did when I did a reality check? Be a little blurry? Raising my arm, which experienced the same heavy feeling as my head, I raised my hand into a clearing in my vision between the walls of black and white. To my surprise, I merely gazed at a stump; cut off at the wrist abruptly, my hand was simply none existant.



    ---------------------------------------------


    Stairway to...
    Friday 3rd April 2009

    I stood at the entrance of the house -- the hallway enveloped in darkness -- and two figures emerged from within its dark depths; my sister and following close by was one of my good college friends.

    Apparently, he'd slept over for the weekend and now the time had arrived for his departure. I feel a pang of guilt wash over me. I find myself wishing we ould have done more to make his stay more enjoyable. (Albiet I didn't seem to recall what was done during his stay.)

    Turning on my heels, my vision swept passed the doorway of my dad's bedroom -- someone was inside.
    Her back was facing me but she was clad in silk, pale pink pyjamas and a house coat that looked rather like a small kimono. Her long, wavy black hair was gathered into a tight pony tail which trailed, incredibly, right down to the top of her thighs.

    I fleetingly wonder who she was.

    One of my sister's friends I'd decided.

    "Don't forget your fan!" I hear my sister's voice from behind me. Following that, the mysterious girl produced a pink fan and packed it into a bag.

    My sister then grabbed a bag from somewhere and filled it with clothing of which included a red T-shirt and a brown one. Then, with her free hand grasped a nearby suitcase and we started out the door, first walking to our neighbour who lived directly opposite.
    "Could you look after this, please?" she inquired to the man who now stood at the door.

    He accepted the suitcase without hesitation and promptly we headed down the stairs. It appeared that I was now carrying the bag with the T-shirts inside, another random white T-shirt hooked in my right hand which flopped around lazily with my movements.

    Continuing the journey down, the stairs began to undergo metamophosis; taking on the appearance of hard, cold stone stairs which led up to a huge archway from which white light flooded through.
    This light was of stark contrast to the sullen darkness of the room. And this time, by myself, I walked up the stairs.

    I heard a jumble of voices -- male ones -- ricocheting across the barren area.
    "It's a shame when people you're looking for aren't there..."
    "Yeah, it is."

    I was very nearly at the top. I began up the last flight of steps before I realised I had dropped the bag I was carrying, which was now hanging loosely on a long plank of wood that was propped up against the side of the banister. And looking up again, I saw a frightened man, pale with fear and pleading looks painted across his features, slowly crawling his way up on his hands and knees towards the light.

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