Chapter One The Dream That Started The Doubt

Dreams are rather weird, one may say, yet fascinating.

I woke up feeling hazy, like I didn’t know where I was yet I am there and not complaining. I look around me; nothing registers as notable then in memory. I forgot what I did the whole morning. As noon closes in, I find myself struggling to the bathroom to prepare myself for an errand I cannot remember the details of but I seem to regard as important. And then I cannot find the bathroom. In my 60 square feet of limited personal space, I cannot for some reason, locate my bathroom. Towel in hand, clad in my pink rather fluffy bathrobe, I am running around confused in my own home.

I found myself then in my parent’s house where a queue was forming in the bathroom. My cousin, aged 17, is right in front of me. Towel in hand, clad in a bathrobe like myself except in a rather boyish color of navy blue; I approached him and talked, I assumed to ask if I can go first for I am in such hurry, I cannot be sure what I said for I cannot hear the spoken words but I can read them from my lips as I speak.

He must have said no because in a while I found myself in a crowded beach resort; next in line for the public shower where beach goers rid themselves of dirt before retiring for a better shower in their own private bathrooms. Strangely enough, I felt relieved that I can finally take a shower and get to where I needed to be. Towel in hand, clad still in my pink bathrobe, I felt unfitting in this place of solid colored bikinis, straw hats and colourful beach towels. I cannot see the beach from where I was standing but I can smell the salt of the ocean and a whiff of cheap sunblock from the girls around me.

Alas I heard the clack of the stall lock as a girl with shoulder-length black hair and naturally tan skin came out fresh and focused. She knelt to the water tap beside the stall- the one meant for you to wash your feet on- and washed her hands in it. I waited for her to stand up and leave so I can enter the stall when I suddenly, and surprisingly at that, realized that she was my parent’s house help. I found myself asking her, again without hearing the words but reading from lips, to get me my change of clothes. From where, I do not know, but I seem to ask of her as if her being there was meant for my assistance.

And so finally I was able to enter the shower stall and take my well-deserved, long stalled bath. I took it with ease; relaxing myself with every spray of the cold water in my skin. Lathering up my expensive high end body scrub infused with scents matching that of heaven in a tub. However long my bath seemed to take, I find that my parent’s house help I entrusted with my change of clothes still hasn’t come. Soon I am all dried up and back again in my bathrobe; still no house help carrying my clothes. I waited, standing there outside the stall, soon finding myself watching the sunset. I felt so irritated, ready to give the house help when she would finally arrive a taste of my well-bred, mostly unused but adequate in splendour learned art of getting mad. It was past six and I get the jitters of missing this important occasion I spent the day finding bathrooms to be able to not miss. I was both angry and nerve wracked by this time; and then I woke up.

Realizing it was all but a dream and that it is in fact just about 8 in the morning. I worked up to calm my anger and my nerves by lighting my ever dependable lavender incense, closing my eyes and breathing in, then out. One thing is prophetic in my dream, however, for I do have great plans this afternoon with someone I am seeing. He is to say, a fling. I don’t know, I guessed. I have never been in love so that can’t be it. But by far, whatever I have with this person is the farthest I have gone with anyone. Anyway, so we had great plans and things going not according to plan is not an option.

I did find my bathroom without trouble and bathed luxuriously in my crisp white tub. I did my morning ritual of cleansing gels and day creams. Then I laid back in my bed, dressed again in a nightgown, switched on the small screen and watched my favourite feel good 90’s TV series. I ordered breakfast from my go to café and had it delivered on my doorstep. As I was enjoying what could be called my brunch, as it arrived at 10:30, I received a text message from the “someone I am seeing”.

“I’m stuck at work, unexpected meeting this afternoon, have to cancel plans later. So sorry.”

“It’s okay. Some other time, then.”

“I’m really sorry. How about I meet you a little later, at around 7?”

“I can’t. I already have something scheduled at 7.”

His last reply I didn’t read anymore. In truth, I was enraged. Cancelling plans via a text message? Not sitting well with me. I don’t actually have anything planned for 7pm, but what the heck, I’d rather have more time alone than prove to a guy I’m nothing but a booty call.

Author's Note

Second chapter coming soon. taking advantage of my one week break from school by indulging in my first love - writing! :)

Reviews

[livinglifeloud]

I love this. Though at sometimes it was hard to follow you kept the flow going, and your descriptions are wonderful. The dream state does read off like a dream. Wonderfully written.