I had a series of nightmares under Yeng and Vflaire‘s workstation. No exaggeration.
I was seated on a bus again. There was a commotion outside so I craned my neck to figure it out. Until this man whose upper body was fully garbed and lower limbs only protected by a black ‘diaper’ went inside. His footsteps matched my heart beats. I knew it. It’s hold up. AGAIN. Though he was not imposing, I immediately surrendered my travel bag when he sat next to me. Hopping to the next seat beside me, my heart knew temporary security.
I woke up.
After several minutes, my eyelids are shut again. In my new dream, I felt alone in the crowd. When the gunshots began, I crawled my way to the farthest from the rebels outside. Here’s what’s weird: Bullets landed on the ground ahead of me, thoughts of those boring a hole in my skull were entertained yet my body welcomed no lead. If you saw my dream too, you know it’s impossible to survive. People are panic-stricken but I’m too scared to care about the others.And then, one man approached us and sliced himself to the last flesh in front of me. No blood escaped him. Sooner, I was leaping out of that room. Something about the light green mat and the garden reminded me of EJ11. I remember being discreet if somebody would stop me. I have to admit I forgot the other details.
I woke up again. This time, I felt my body fight for consciousness. No nightmare would claim me. At that time, I fear falling back to slumber would result to another nightmare. How much more could I take? It was 12:13 already, roughly 17 more minutes before my brother’s mobile phone/alarm clock bring my ear drums and sleepy ass to submission. I took the risk.
I woke up 01:08. Late and breathless for the anticipated ping, I dashed to my workstation without even bothering to comb my hair and brush my teeth. It’s time.
“Thank you for calling MSN Customer Service. My name is Lorna. May I have your name, please?”