revive

revive 2

dwayne

"so, you're telling me that there are a lot of unusual activities happening at your phone?" dann confusingly asked me while scrolling through the pictures on my phone. i've been shaking for as long as i can remember. the cold atmosphere isn't helping at all.

my phone was filled up with numerous pictures from "yesterday." it was mostly photos of me and dann goofing around, drinking beers, watching movies, random selfies and wacky faces. the last photo literally made me threw up on my shirt.

it was a photo of me and dann.

lying around the floor.

fresh wounds.

a bloody murder.

death.

i can't answer dann. i am currently in a state wherein a multitude of thoughts and insights are currently circulating around my mind yet my mouth acts like it is zippered.

i nodded as a response.

dann deeply scrutinized the photo and stared at me. "we were goofing around in the previous photos, dwayne. don't you think this photo is somehow, self-explanatory?"

i took a gulp and tried my best to open my mouth.

no words would come out.

i started tearing up.

what the f**k is happening?

"look," dann sits beside me and rubbed my shoulders in hopes for comforting me. "can you at least tell me what you're thinking about right now? i have to know something, dwayne. i'm no mathematician. you know how bad i did at school."

i took a big gulp.

"i--i don't think so.... s---s---shadow--some---one.... took the.... the.... picture!" i can't speak properly as my sobs were dominating every word i say.

"it can be mikey or lance!" he exclaimed.

mikey and lance are some of our close friends. they used to live in our apartment months ago, but left because dann hated the fact that they get messy most of the time. we mostly spend our time with them even though they live far away. we all work in the same fast food chain as money is not really that easy for us.

"i know how much they like involving pranks in their humor, but i personally think they won't go this far, dann." i tried my best to not stutter. "and also, aren't they like 50 kilometers away from us? they won't exert that much effort into pulling pranks, dann. you know how lazy they are. they won't pick up their clothes or throw their candy wrappers in the trash can. they used to live with us, dann. we work with them. there's no way you don't know the guys as much as i do."

"we could've asked them to come over, dw---"

"but we didn't!" i stood up from my chair and slammed my hands on the table. "can't you see, dann? something weird is going on. cellphones don't usually mess up dates. the photo, can't you see how realistic it looks? what if we're enclosed on a chaos wherein we're trapped in a---"

"let me stop you right there, dwayne," dann looked at me with a hint of a small smile. 'i can pay for your therapy if you want."

"i don't need a f*****g therapy, dann. for f**k's sake, stop messing around! do you think i'm joking? this is not normal, dann. what's happening to us is completely the opposite of normal! instead of asking me to go to therapy, why don't you open your eyes for once, and think of what could've possibly happened yesterday? oh, yeah? nothing. because we can't recall anything! and that's something you utterly normalize!" by impulse, i accidentally punched him on the face.

i saw how shocked dann is due to what happened. god knows i didn't punch him intentionally. heck, i've never punched anyone. a tear escaped dann's beautiful eyes.

i started tearing up because of that. i didn't mean any of this to happen. i stood here, sulking of what i have done.

maybe dann's right.

maybe i should go to therapy.

"look, dann...." i was about to lend him a hand and apologize for everything when he decided to cut me off.

"don't," he said in a very cold manner and stood up by himself. he has this cold look on his face i wish i didn't even carve. i watched him suffer from the pain my fist had brought onto him.

i feel nothing but guilt.

guilt for invalidating his thoughts.

guilt for physically attacking him.

nothing but guilt.

i saw his right hand forming into a fist as he walks closer to me. i would've dodged and ran away, but my heart tells me that i deserve this. i can't ran away from something i entirely deserve.

and so i stayed there.

waited for his fist to touch my face.

waited for his upcoming range.

but there was none.

he didn't punch me.

"get some proper rest, dwayne. you look like shit." dann demanded and walked away from me. "we'll talk about this tomorrow. good night. sleep well. take care."

me, being consumed by guilt, decided to not waste any time and complied to what we wanted. i slowly climbed the stairs with no hint of excitement drawn to my face. i feel extremely drained from what happened earlier downstairs. i couldn't smile or anything. i looked like a zombie. i feel dead.

i entered my room and locked my door. i skipped my usual night routine as i don't feel like doing anything aside from dozing off to sleep and sulk over what happened earlier downstairs. i covered my entire body with my blanket and closed my eyes. i thought about what dann told me earlier.

do i need therapy?

yeah, maybe i do.

i certainly do.

because of my messed up thoughts, i punched a guy who did nothing but to look after me.

maybe i should go to therapy. and maybe consult a psychologist, too.

i suddenly felt really sleepy while i'm in the middle of my thoughts. i rested my head on my pillow, searched for my comfort position, and drifted off to sleep.