I was sitting on the floor, head resting on the wall. I was hiding from them with a knife in my hand. I was afraid that they could hear me breathing because my lungs screamed louder in the condition I was. Blood stains on my clothes were invisible to me in that state of mind.
“This is the revolution.”, screamed random voices from outside the window. The whole house had wooden flooring and furnishing so in the least I could hear footsteps clearly and prepare myself. I heard nothing for a long while so I decided to go downstairs.
Just as I was about to reach the ground floor I caught a glimpse of how bad it was outside. I knew that because i saw only red outside the door, and by red I mean a solid color with no depth that seemed so surrealistic. I felt trapped so I decided to go back up.
I walked upstairs silently trying to be careful of any armed people I had seen going up before. It all happened so fast. I was in the store room perhaps out of their sight when I heard gunshots and of people barging into the house. I hid their, held onto the knife that I could find there and hid right there. I was planning to run away from there but one of them discovered the store room. He was tall and he had a gun. I remember how fast my heart was beating then when I suddenly stood up and from behind his back stabbed his neck. Some blood splashed onto my clothes. I didn’t think much of it, I couldn’t afford to either.
I reached the second floor by the time I recollected my memory trying to keep myself sane. Suddenly there seemed to be what sounded like continuous gunshots. On looking out the window near the stairs, I realized there was a hail storm. I still can’t understand what happened to the weather because I remember it being sunny that morning.
Just when I was about to reach the door to one of the rooms, I heard a voice saying,”Don’t go there, come to the roof.” It was definitely her voice but where was this coming from? I didn’t question her instructions, I never really did. She was like my gut, and I knew my gut could not be wrong. So as commanded, I went to the roof. I stopped and peeped through the hole in the wall, the only source that lit the stairway. The light from the hole illuminated my eyes and there I saw her. I saw her held at gunpoint by one the villainous men. She was facing me and the armed man was facing her. They seemed to be having a conversation of some sort but all I could think about was how the sky had never looked that blue like it was that day. Her hair swayed in the subtle wind while I wondered why the chaos felt blissful when I saw her.
She is so calm even while looking at the gunman.
I felt her eyes catching a glimpse of me. Something came over to me after that look, I looked at my knife imagined the entire scenario of how I will sneak to reach the gunman’s behind and stab him on his neck and save my girl. But by the time I got my master plan figured out, she came to hold my hand as I looked at her confused. She ran down holding my hand, pulling me in my state of confusion. I looked back at the rooftop, the gunman lay dead on the floor.
Whoa, girl. What did you do in the blink of my eye?
Even when we were running downstairs I wished so badly to have been the one to save her. A worried girl held hostage by an ugly old villain, I smack the evil out of him and save my girl. She would have come into my arms running and I would have saved the day and flew away with her. Okay a little too much maybe, but the smell of her hair had always been intoxicating for me. If you thought my wish was a little over the top, you probably can’t handle what’s coming next. It started snowing inside the house and the stairs seemed never ending. I realized how we had been running for a while now but hadn’t reached anywhere I knew of my own house. She stopped for a while, turned to me for a while and smiled. The subtle smile was beautiful but it was not the same like old times, I could see pain in her eyes for some reason.
“This is for you.” she said looking up at the ceiling that poured down snow flakes. I loved the cold snow. But now I really wish we had more time to enjoy that. We heard more gunshots so we took cover. I had lost her by then. I panicked at how easily she got lost. How could this happen? Why don’t I feel conscious in this reality?
I found myself entering a random room that looked familiar. A room that reminded me of my childhood. As deeper I went into the room, the clearer the memory got. It was the room I shared with my elder sister. She was near the window, looking out. She looked beautiful and I realized how I had never noticed her long hair before. I went to sit beside her and asked her what she was seeing.
“It’s ending. Look the police are clearing it all up.”, she told me.
We talked endlessly about our past memories together, feeling the most nostalgic I had ever before. I don’t remember talking to her like that. I had never felt that connected to her before even when we lived in the same house for years. It was beautiful how she was so beautiful.
I then remembered my friend, where had I lost her? I went to the roof to look for her. The house was back to its original size and I looked around the house and finally caught a glimpse of her in the next building. She was surrounded by Yakuza members talking to them with a grave look. I remember her noticing me but she acted indifferent to my presence. It hurt me deeply but it was nothing compared to when the Yakuza members came to me and said, “She has to go.” I swear I could have lived with indifference but not absence.
Please don’t be the one who goes.