The Darker Side

A Story by Saumya Tiwari

I woke up suddenly, panicked, checking my throat, breathing heavily. ‘It’s all right. I am okay. It was just a dream, again.’ It was still early. I lied on my bed with my eyes wide open, trying to remember how many times I have seen that dream already. I have read some articles that dreams that are recurrent or that you don’t forget easily carry some meaning. ‘Okay so maybe I have been watching some bad movies recently, I don’t know. What the hell. Why can’t I sleep again? It’s still only 4.03 am. S**t! I am going to be sleepy in office tomorrow.’

*****

‘Oh God these hair! Why can’t I get them right in one try?’ I let my hair open to see how long they have got, just like every day; down to my knees. I have long light brown hair, straight, always falling on my face. Everyone looks at them in surprise, tells me how beautiful they are. ‘Irritating, that’s what they are. Nothing is beautiful. That’s it; I am cutting my hair short.’ I promised myself, just like every other day.

*****

‘This coffee mug. I can crush it down; the coffee will spill all over the table. I can take this mug and can beat my table with it, again and again and again. How much I want to take this cup and beat down every f*****g thing around me, but all I can do is stare at it and kill it in my head.

“Hey! What are you doing staring at that cup? Its 6 pm. planning to stay in office all day? Shall I drop you home?

“No thanks, I bought my car today; have to get a haircut on the way back”

“What! Why? You have such beautiful hair. Please tell me you are only trimming them and not cutting them short.”

“I am cutting them really short.”

“It’s sad. Anyway, I will see you tomorrow. Bye.

“Bye.”

*****

‘I am choking. I can’t breathe. Who is this person? Why is this person trying to kill me? STOP! I CAN’T BREATHE. WHY ARE YOU KILLING ME? This is feeling good. I am relieved. GET OFF ME.’

‘I am awake. Relax; it was just a dream, again. What time is it? 3.32 am. I need water.’ I went to the fridge and drank out of the bottle, thinking about the dream. I turned on the lights. ‘I won’t be able to sleep now so it’s no use lying down.’ I passed by the mirror and it felt something odd, I took a step back to look again. ‘It’s my hair, so short. It will take time before I get used to recognizing myself in this hairstyle.’ I played with my hair for a minute and then it struck me again, the dream. ‘Why would I feel relieved when someone was trying to kill me? Why the hell are dreams so blurred? Why would anybody want to kill me even in my dreams?’ I laughed a little on the last line. That’s right, only I understand, my humor, nobody else. This means, only I can keep myself happy, and I decide not to.

*****

It was a long a day at work. I put on some music and started working on the rhythm of the song. I raised the volume slightly, bit by bit until it was full and I was surrounded by music. I could feel the beats hitting me. I started dancing, in a way I would never dance in front of anyone, there was no one else and I danced until I was at the peak from where I could see my madness. The madness that only comes out when you are in your own company. That mad solitude. And suddenly everything changed. I was no longer just dancing. The random movement of my body was not sufficient to let out what was inside. I was hitting myself, attacking myself with everything I had. The hands were out of control, slapping everywhere. I wanted to stop but it felt so good, punishing myself. Within a minute the music stopped, so did my body.

I was sitting with my head between my knees. The palms and shoulders were sore. There was pain in my one of my thighs too. It was too much. I was immediately regretting what I did a few seconds ago. ‘I need to stop this, losing myself. It’s pathetic to feel pity for yourself. It’s like I am divided and one part likes to punish the other.’

*****

‘It’s the same dream again. I know it’s a dream, I have seen it before. I am suffocating, but I know it’s not real. It will get over. Its clearer this time but it will pass, I know. I can see the girl who is trying to kill me. Why am I not waking up? I have to wake up or she will kill me. She has got long straight hair, down to her knees, light brown, falling at her face. I can’t breathe, I have to wake up. I am fading out, it’s getting dark. I have to wake up.’

‘It was not a dream.’