Chapter Three
1066 Words
I have never dreamt since the day I died,
But how lucky if I drink fresh blood,
I can see their dreams
Their lustful desires
Their hunger for wealth
And those who wanted to die...
It is never easy to be dead.
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The remaining hours after Gina left the mansion, I made myself busy with touring around the house while Aunt Darling was showing me around especially in the grand room, where she said, the late Lady Mila and Elizabeth V plays piano.
Inside the room, I smelt the slight odor of the old wood and dust in the air. I walked towards the center of the room—mesmerized by the marbled floor—I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.
I remembered the swaying of my mom's hips; how she tiptoed and glided with her light legs. I remembered the music playing as she moved with her arms gracefully swaying and gliding along with the movement of her shoulders.
A lonely piano music played as I tried to mimick every movement in my memories. I glided, swayed and jumped in a light graceful movements—felt all alone inside the room and owned it.
At the last steps, so as the climax of the music, had brought me to the last memory of my mother...her feet above the air. As I tried to look up above me, I suddenly took a wrong step and collapsed to the ground and almost twisted my ankle.
I heard flat and sharp ruined the music causing it to stop.
"Ida! Be careful!" It was Aunt Darling who just got up from the chair in front of the grand piano.
AFTER I HAVE TREATED MY TWISTED ANKLE, Aunt Darling provided me an old fitted peach duster dress. It was hers when she's just eighteen years old.
I hurried inside the Mila Room and found a human sized mirror flatly plastered to the wall near the golden colored vanity. I turned around slowly as I inspected my reflection in every angle.
I was taken aback when I suddenly I felt that the mirror moved. Was it an earthquake? But I never felt a shaking of the ground, or did I just imagine it?
I decided to move and turned away. After some steps, I stopped and turned back again to the mirror. I intently looked at my eyes in my reflection, then laid to bed.
I hope I was imagining myself smirking at myself.
WOODS. PANTINGS. SCREAMS. CHANTS. BLOOD.
More bloods.
Dozens of image crept like fast forwarding motion pictures in my head. From a big place to the forest.
I knew I was dreaming but to my dismay, I was unable to wake up. I felt my hands were pinned down to my bed—chained. My body couldn't move; something was preventing me to move my muscles. I'm unable to relax, like drowning; breaths shortened.
Pant. Pant. Pant, as I run through a path full of trees and grasses.
As the image of the fang of a snake about to approach me, I abruptly bent over as I opened my eyes, still catching for my breath.
It's just a dream. It's just a dream. I convinced myself.
Flashes of her hung body crept in mind again the moment I opened my eyes. Both of my hands pulled my hair and screamed in pain.
The long beige dress full of blood... Her swollen feet and darkened nails... Bed full of pictures of me and my biological father... Tumbled wooden stool and the rope knotted in the handle of the window... Her body... Her beautiful face...
I felt it again; the cuts on my wrists and on my lap. They're like fresh wounds. I kept on feeling it like it was my first time to hurt myself—like how the way I've hurt myself the first time I saw my mother hanging...lifeless.
I kept on screaming until someone hurried at my door and opened it. It was Aunt Darling in her PJs and white cream all over her face.
From where I was, I should be afraid of her glowing face silhoetted in the dark, but I kept myself busy with the panic attacks again.
"Ida! Ida! Calm down! Calm down! What happened?"
IT WAS A LONG DEAD TIRING NIGHT that Gina hurried back to Tagaytay after that series of hysteria. The imipramine is a big help to calm me down for a while as I drifted to sleep.
As long as I can remember, I was running into the woods—fast like the wind itself. I was never this fast in my life. The darkness of the place enveloped nothing but the thickness of the woods.
It was cold as I was looking at those fallen crystals from up above me. It was snowing. From that scenario, I knew I'm dreaming again. I was a bit thankful that the images were not forwarded in a great speed.
I was still running, until I felt a great force that thrashed me against my direction. I felt the cold soil and the heat that raged inside of me—as to seem heightened my senses and guarded myself—dark circles under my pair of bloodshot eyes searched for the oppressor's presence.
I waited.
After a moment of silence, I felt a great hand strangled and have pinned me to the ground. As impossible as it may seem, I was never intimidated nor breathed shortly on my nostrils.
I mischievously smiled at the the stiff face almost covered by his golden hair moisted with the snowflakes falling. "Are you going to kill your future queen, Demetri?"
I felt the fire starting to ignite inside the man's eyes.
I felt a sudden victory of what I am witnessing. My anger towards this guy had been a fulfilling pleasure inside my body—he's threatened with my presence, and I'm not sure why.
"You are no queen to me! You liar! You killed her!" Fire was still raging in his eyes.
Inside, I wanted to touch his face and calm his anger, but my body was doing the opposite. Instead, I laughed really hard until my voice have echoed all over the forest and subsided.
I gasped, the moment I woke up and got up from the slumber. This dream was different. It has nothing to do with my biological mother anymore.
It's all about me.
The evil me.
- Writer
