The Line

i had an unusual dream.

in that dream i was in a building. i was moving around because i had chores to do or places to go, i don't know. but i was going from one place, one room, one floor to the other, i think. in the middle of it i found a black lady with a gun in her hand. distressed, she looked like somebody working in the building, because of her uniform - perhaps a cleaner. or used to be. i'm not sure what gave me the impression but i knew she had been sacked, and she was stressed out, and she was holding a gun because of that.

so, i, could have run. run away, run out of the building, for life's sake. because i knew something bad was going to happen. but for the life of me, my friends were in the building. people i know. i had to find them and i had to tell them about it. calling them didn't cross my mind at all. i probably could have used my phone later, out in the open or somewhere hiding in the shade, but come to think of it now it still seems wrong to leave them behind and warn them only when i was safe, right? so i stayed.

long story short, the lady came to where i was.

i hid under a table, at the corner of the area, but i knew it was no good. it was a table, not a cupboard. still, i took my chances. at first she didn't see me, she was looking right at me but i believe she didn't see me. then just when she had taken some steps further, she looked back, and she smiled. she was playing with me. she smirked, yet she didn't come closer. she paced around at the same distance, smiling, smirking. then she came closer.

i remember thinking, at least if i died, it's not because of some racist or islamophobic causes. this lady lost her job and she went mental. as if that's some consolation.

as she came closer, i prayed for a miracle or mercy. when she was a couple of feet away from me, i stood up and looked her in the eye. she raised the gun, i took some sort of a container next to me, crouched down and shield my head with it.

not my head. not my face. i was going to protect it. even with a white, square, plastic container i had a hunch to be an ice-cream tub. an ice-cream tub ended its life as my protector, as i ended mine.

what happened next happened in silent. there was no sound, no shots of gun, no mad woman shouting and laughing or cursing. almost as if it didn't happen and i was safe. but it happened, because i saw fire. even through shut eyes, i saw light. explosive light, striking light. it didn't happen quickly nor did it happen in a blur. it was in a motion enough for me to appreciate the light, brilliant as if it was sunlight peeking through a curtain in the morning. i could even appreciate how painless it was. i opened my eyes waiting for it to end. or had it?

when there was no more light, i removed the container i was still holding. the container was intact. but i knew it must have been in pieces. and i knew i was dead. but i stood up, and i saw people crowding the area. close enough to see, not close enough to look. i saw my friends, the people i knew, that i was trying to warn. they were sobbing, holding their faces. some just stared. i wish they'd stop staring because i knew i didn't look good. i knew if i turned around and looked down, i would saw me, or if i wiped my face my hand would be wet and red, or i would feel an eye out of place. so i didn't.

i just walked towards them, and pass them.

i walked down the stairs, and i saw me on a stretcher. my whole body was covered. then she, or me, lifted the cover off her, my, face. the face was the face i had always seen on the mirror. the face was a face belonged to the living. the me on the stretcher said something to the crowd, she was looking up the stairs at us, shouting something, about the lady, or about herself, or the ones she was trying to save. but they couldn't hear her. i could.

i kept walking down, not looking at her. the glass walls revealed a sky that was almost dark, but not quite. it was dusk. i saw the eiffel tower just next door, much smaller, but i wasn't in paris. there was a horizontal line in the sky, a line of light, the only daylight that was left. i heard somebody said, "close the sky", and the line started thinning. slowly, the light disappeared. the sky was black, with patches of greyish orange where the clouds hovered. i knew the command was to respect me.

and i thought, that wasn't too bad after all.

i was, and am, glad it was me. not anybody i know. because being dead, was not that bad for me.