Is it better to read books before we sleep? Honestly, I am not a fan of them. My Mom would go to my room and made it as a chore every night, making sure I'll fall to deep slumber.
Stories on books doesn’t makes me interested that much. The only thought I have is how I wish my Mom finish telling them to me. After she have done her part, and locked the door, I would open the television and watch cartoons as many as I can. It's a good thing they didn't notice the next day that I didn't get enough sleep.
There’s a time they decided to get all of our belongings from our home before. I didn't remember I had these things when I was just a toddler. My brothers were laughing when they saw my photos; my face was so messed up.
A lot of things were interesting, but this one... A black box. Curious on how it works, I hid it in my room.
That night, I was easily drift off to sleep. My Mom didn’t go for her night routine because she’s busy with her stuffs.
“An episode of a woman
trying to get out an asylum.
When she saw me, she ran
after. There’s an urge to
cry but this is not the time
yet. I think I will about to
collapse if I will release this
tension forming inside me.
Looking to the aisle, then to
the dark corners, my mind’s
in chaos—nowhere to go, it
shouts 'help me!' But, I have
to keep these words, sealed
inside my mouth.
Then, I found her, there,
just some meters away, from
me. Hunger, I thought. She
cried, and cried... And, cried.
While raising her hands in
air, drawing some figures.
A smile formed on her lips,
then looked at me, and cried
again... and run!”
The next day, the black box, still displayed on top of my drawer. Intricate details carved on its exterior, polished by a great mason. It weighed solidly as a rock. I kept staring at it for too long, until I heard my Mom’s calling me outside my room to eat our lunch.
Hunger. That is. The crying lady. Those memories kept flashing while I’m trying to munch even a small portion of food. I saw a lot of it, not only on our table, but... their faces. They looked like foods, and my stomach growls for more of them to be churned.
But, no. It’s not good.
“The crowd before me
closed their eyes while
I was performing on the
stage. It took a day and a
half and yet I’m not
exhausted. They still had
their eyes just as before.
At the end of the
performance, one of
them finally opened his...
Pair of blank eyes.
Alone on the stage, with
these huge number of
audiences, I could feel
it’s not him who looks at
me. There’s a lot of them,
out there, everywhere.
So, I looked down,
and found my shadow
having the same eyes
I have seen on the crowd.”
Really?
I had weird dreams for just two nights. I hate it more than Mom reading stories for me. No more nights being dragged to more weird dreams.
So far, my day’s better than before when the classes started. I had time playing with my friends, taking walks along the bay, and visit my classmates on their homes. I feel freedom outside our home, but that doesn’t mean I am completely free.
Children days were fun and troublesome, as always, but that freedom we have, is not always there. We just wanted to enjoy everything, and cut! Their faces... and their hands dragging me to our home.
That world keep swallowing me until I couldn’t see outside these walls.
No more friends, but only, this shade.
And those eyes.
“I was startled by the
the sudden movement of
the stars, clouds, the sun,
and the moon. Indeed,
the earth seems to dry out,
then gained moisture
after a week. And, I couldn’t
believe I have stayed here
for a long time! And, the
next day, I saw my
reflection on the river.
The place was surrounded
by very thick vines. I
thought I could go out of
here by following the
current, but I had a
problem:
the river was swarmed
by unknown species.
Is there a way I could
escape? Will I walk
along with those
creatures I’ve never
known?”
Here I am again, staring at the black box. Seemed to have a great value, but I noticed that for so long I have obtained this, I experienced misfortunes, but I think it’s normal—except for the dreams. And, I keep dreaming of more from the distorted world.
My Mom finally let me to get out of my room and share food with them. I told them about the black box. They stopped from what they’re doing and looked blankly to me. Frozen on their seats, they didn’t even breathe for a second, and just stared at me. It felt heavy, inside.
I ran from the house and had to find the nearest home I thought I could be safe from these weird events. I met one of my friends, and told him about it. I’m glad his family let me stay there for a night.
Unlike in my household, their parents are not strict as what I have. They let their children do their thing as they’re out of their comfort zone.
As for my family, I don’t know what happened to them, but these people assured me they will be fine as another day to rise. I hope so.
About the black box... I didn’t bring it with me, but it’s right here beside me. Is this a good night?
“I was alone in the room,
with the darkness around,
until the television
turned on by itself.
And, one last time,
for real, not a dream,
a nightmare...”
