HER WOUNDS,HIS HEART

A figure in an almost worn-out dress stood behind the window, gazing at the snowy night—a night she would never forget. The once-beautiful and admired face was now swollen and bloated like an overfed pig. It wasn’t from tears, but from her dreams. People once compared her beauty and curvy features to the morning sunlight. But that was then. Now, such comparisons felt like blasphemy to anyone who didn’t know her story. She remembered the sound of the creaking door. The cold air brushing against her skin. The weight pressing her into the mattress. The sharp slaps on her face when she struggled. The pain burning through her, unbearable—breaking her from the inside out. “It was just a horrible dream,” she told herself. But then she looked at her body. How come I’m wounded? Why do my legs feel heavy, like I’ve been made to do frog jumps? The questions rang in her head like a bell. After finishing her daily chores, Rose decided it was wise to tell her aunty about the horrible dream she’d had the night before. “Aunty Catherina!” “Yes?” “What is it?” “Why shout my name like that when I’m right here?” Cath asked, her tone irritated. “I’m not deaf, you know.” Her eyes, red from hours of mending clothes, softened a little. “What is it, Rose?” “Aunty, something has been bothering me…” Rose paused, glancing at her aunty to see if she was listening. “Go on, I’m all ears.” “I had a horrible nightmare.” “Mmm. What happened in the dream?” “I don’t understand it. I can’t put my finger on it… it was like a horror movie.” “Horror movie? In your dream?” Cath asked. “Yes, aunty. It was so horrible.” “Well, if it was horrible, maybe you watched a horror movie yesterday. Who did you watch it with?” “Aunty, I didn’t watch any movie. In fact, I don’t watch movies.” “Then how come the horror movie in your dream?” “I don’t know. But what baffles me is that I was injured in the dream—and I’m experiencing the same pain right now.” “Rose, did you fight yesterday? At school or anywhere?” “No.” “Did you fall while running errands for your uncle?” “No.” “Then what happened to you? Your face was swollen, now you have body pain. Rose, there’s something you’re not telling me.” “No, aunty! It all happened in my nightmare. I’m confused too.” Cath sighed. “If what you’re saying is true, then your story is complicated—and unbelievable. Please, go and finish what you were doing—” She was interrupted by the phone ringing. “Oh no!” Cath exclaimed. “I’ve forgotten about our dance class. Oh my! What have I done? As the leader, I’m not supposed to be late. Rose! Finish up, please. We’ll talk when I get back.” She rushed out. Cath came back late that night, clearly exhausted, when Rose served her food. “Welcome, ma,” Rose greeted. “Huh…” Cath murmured. “What about Robin and Melinda?” “They’ve gone to bed,” Rose replied before retiring to her room. That night, Rose had the same nightmare again—the figure returned, had his way, and left. .... Rose POV The next morning, Cath didn’t wake up on time, so Rose didn’t see her before leaving for work. At work, Rose thought to herself, I think I’ll tell aunty about the dream again. It keeps coming every day and it’s not funny anymore. On her way home, she came across Uncle Freddy, who had been staying with them after losing his job. Cath and her husband, Micah, had taken him in as a family friend. Rose had vacated her room for him and moved into the storeroom, which she had learned to cherish. “Hello,” Freddy greeted. “Hello! Good evening, uncle.” “How are you?” “I’m fine.” “Okay, go home now. I’ll be back soon.” “Okay, uncle. Take care.” As Rose turned to leave, Freddy called her back. “Rose!” “Yes, uncle!” “Come here.” Rose walked closer. “What is that on your neck?” he asked, leaning in. “Uncle, it’s nothing.” “Nothing? With that kind of wound on your neck? What happened to you?” “It’s nothing. I… I carelessly fell down in the kitchen.” “Oh no. Sorry. But be careful next time.” “I will.” “Alright then. I’ll be on my way. Goodbye.” .... That same evening, Rose was bathing in Melinda’s room when Robin walked in to grab his sister’s shower gel. He accidentally opened the bathroom door and bumped into Rose. “I’m sorry, Rose!” he said hastily before leaving. But the way Robin behaved before leaving got Rose thinking—and reminded her of her mysterious dream man. The next morning, Cath woke up on time and noticed the chores were not done. Rose was nowhere in sight. “Why is everywhere still dusty and dirty? Where is this girl?” she muttered. “Rose! Rose!” she called, but there was no response. She checked Rose’s room—and there she was, lying down, sleeping. “Rose! What are you doing? Seriously?” Cath chuckled. “I asked you a question—why is everywhere dirty? I’m talking to you, Rose!” “Aunty, I’m sorry. I’ll do it later, please,” Rose replied, her voice weak. “Don’t tell me you’re becoming lazy.” “No, I’m not lazy,” Rose answered softly. “With what I’m seeing now, you’re definitely becoming lazy. But I don’t blame you—I blame myself for overpampering you.” “Aunty, I’m not lazy,” she said, trembling. “By the way, why are you still sleeping? Didn’t your alarm clock ring?” “It did, but I’m very weak. My body hurts all over,” she answered, almost in tears. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so weak you can’t stand up?” “Aunty, I don’t know. I’m confused,” Rose said, starting to cry. Cath frowned. “I’m confused here. What is wrong? Why are you crying?” “I don’t know.” “What do you mean you don’t know? Like you don’t know why you’re crying? How possible is that?” “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t put my finger on it. I’ve been thinking about it all morning but I can’t find an answer.” “Answers to what exactly? Did you fight with someone? Did anyone bully you? Answer me!” Cath asked, growing restless. “I didn’t fight with anyone. Nobody bullied me. It’s about the mysterious dream I told you about a few days ago. I’ve been having the same dream lately—it keeps coming every day. And each time it comes, I end up with unbearable pain all over my body,” she explained through tears. She grabbed Cath’s leg, pleading, still sobbing. “Aunty, please help me! I’m dying! I can’t continue like this. I can’t take it anymore. I’m… I’m losing it. Please help me.” Cath looked at her niece, confused. Letting out a breath, she said, “I’m speechless. Rose… not that I don’t want to help, but your story sounds like a folktale. It’s complicated and unbelievable. Nobody will believe that the same pain you feel in your dream is what you experience here—but not the good parts. How is that possible? People will think I’m mad… or that madness runs in our family.” “Aunty, I’m not mad. My story is true,” Rose said calmly, still in tears. “Please help me.” “Alright, Rose. Stop crying. I’ll look into it and find a solution.” “Thank you, aunty!” “You’re welcome. Now stop crying and cheer up. I’m coming. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” “Okay!” “Aunty,” Rose called, making Cath stop and turn. “Thank you.” Cath nodded and left.