A Quarter Life

Hypno Hallucination

'Salud, world, salud.’

He woke up suddenly, as if he were chasing them, the haunt. He felt like he could visualize the last celebration. The soldiers, the droplets of sweat from them, the breath of fear, all seemed to lively, he could smell them, hear them. He could feel the pain, the pain the rock was giving, the pain of burden.

The alarm clock rang afterwards. He laughed. Sometimes it was so inspiring to be ahead of time.

The coffee boxes was being worn out. There was coffee beans, but few. He understood, he should do some groceries.

The last coffee beans was getting crushed. He wouldn’t care. He hadn’t anything to care. He thought about the dream. Why was it so much real. He could feel the soil clinging on his neck. He could feel the grumpy footsteps trembling himself. He knew it was him, the same tension, the same rejoice, the same hidden fear, he was there.

He came back to his room, with a not-properly made coffee. The strong smell of coffee beans was quite distracting, he knew that. He knew that the coffee would be half finished, and meanwhile, he would be asleep. He would forget about every distraction, every real distraction in his life. He would watch the sunset, and praise the sun and the sea, even if that wouldn’t be real, nor be wearing his praises.

Suddenly he heard a knock on the door. He wasn’t expecting any guest at this time. He never expected any guest.

He slowly approached to the door. He calmly peeped in the looking glass. Nobody was there. He quickly went to his room and slam opened the cupboard.

There was nothing, nothing to be of description. Some papers, he didn’t even know in what sense they were useful. A security safe, but maybe there would be 100 dollars at most. Some raw novels, written by him, waiting to be published, at some time of his life. And the last thing, the thing that he never used, but might be useful at the moment. A black .22 magnum pistol. He couldn’t remember the exact reason of buying it. But he could praise himself.

He slowly went to the door, put a soft grab on the door knob. He could hear nothing, no sign of breathing. He slowly opened the door, and peeped outside. The same result, nobody was there. Yet he carefully opens the door fully, and the same, nobody was there. He just saw a letter falling on the door. The envelope had a bright brown. The brownish vibe reminded him of the woods. The woods were so close to him, even if he visited them once. He would find a new flavor of peace in the woods.

He closed the door, opened the envelope. There was a postcard. A short note was written on that.

'Dr. Alexander David

128B, Union Square

Today, sharp 4:30

He knew, it was Jenny. He grinned. This girl, she was something else, not like every other human being, not like every materialistic living wastes. She was, she was like an ant, an ant surviving in this big lazy world. And what was he? He was a normal human being, only curiously observing the ant. He didn’t know how he loved her. But he didn’t want her to be with him. He knew she would be everything in this world with him, except happy.

Running, running, running was not the game. He looked at his watch. It was 4:35. He was late again, he could see the apartment from a distance, a lady standing in front. He could feel the liveliness seeing Jenny.

Reaching there, he could see a sweet anger, anger falling from her eyes, softening her cheeks.

She looked at him and said, 'Do you really have any explanation to make, Mr. Ronald?'

He grinned and replied, 'Firstly, you can call me Mike. And secondly, I am so sorry.'

Reaching the front stairs she said, 'You can tell him that.'

The interior of the visiting room was quite neat. In fact, it was like a living room, with a brain exercise section in a corner. He was sitting in a sofa, waiting for the doctor. She was there, beside him. She was tensed. Was she? He didn't know.

The doctor came. Mike saw him, closely. He was not so young, yet filled with energy. The eyebrows are quite different, quite light. And there was a forevermore grin in his face.

He looked at Mike and forwarded his hand, 'Hello Mr. Ronald, it’s me, Dr. David.'

Mike said, 'Nice to meet you. My name is Michael Ronald' as they shook hand.

The doctor looked at Jenny. He said, 'And you are?'

She said with a smile, 'Janet Hofmann, you can say me as his assistant.'

Mike grinned, 'More like an accomplice, doctor.'

The coffee tasted like a stabilizer, maybe because Mike hardly drank any coffee except his sarcastically miraculous coffee, which kept him alive.

The doctor took a sip and said, 'Ok Mr. Ronald, you can start.'

Mike put his coffee aside and started.

'So it was when the first lockdown warning started. I work as a market analyst for a newspaper. I have to attend daily for the morning meeting and update. So, I need have a sound sleep every night. I don’t have any kind of bad routine or irregularities about sleeping. But that night, I saw a dream, I would rather say a weird dream. I would see myself, lower body stuck under a big sized rock. I was stuck inside a filthy cave. I was laughing. Then immediately after, two people, wearing army dresses, would come inside the cave. I somehow would recognize them in dream. They would address me as their captain. They would panic saying something was free, released. I would still be laughing, regarding to carrying some kind of legacy. Then a grumpy footstep would be heard outside the cave. I am assuming it was the thing they were afraid. I greeted them with an invisible cheers and closed my eyes.'

The doctor was silent, was attentive. He interrupted the monologue, 'Wait, so it is some kind of imaginary enemy?'

Mike said, 'Well, I am not sure, I can only assume.'

The doctor thought for a while, then said, 'Ok, continue.'

Mike replied, 'Well, that's it. Same dream, I see the exact same dream every night after that. Every time more precisely than before, more real than before. And you know, it is driving me crazy.'

The doctor took a pad, and started writing something down. Mike could see a calmness in his eyebrows, no wonder it felt weird.

The doctor asked, 'Do you have any kind of exceptional diseases like Parkinson's disease, or Narcolepsy?'

Mike was silent. He never heard these terms, so to be exact, he never had that.

'No, never. I was beaten by Typhoid once, and fever and cold quite often. But these types of things? Never.'

The doctor said nothing. He completed his writings and said, 'Ok Mr. Ronald, the problem you are having is called, in our medical terms, Hypnagogic Hallucinations. It is a result of some disordered routines or some genetic derangements maybe. I will suggest some anti migraine pills, and you will have to visit me every Tuesday, like today.'

Mike said nothing, he slowly greeted him and walked to the front door. But Jenny could feel the disgust from his gesture.

At the stairs, she asked, 'So if you can't rely on this one, I can find another doctor.'

He grinned and said, 'I am, and will forever be grateful to you for caring, but you know, you are wrong about me not relying on doctor. Doctors? They are just puppets. They will eventually blabber what the medical science fed them.'

He started walking away, she uttered from behind, 'M-Mike'

He stopped.

She continued, 'At least take the pills, it’s a request.'

He walked away. But he knew, coffee beans would be of a good taste with anti migraine pill powders.