Chapter 1
“Hello? Anybody there?”
That’s strange. How can I hear such a screaming
voice at so late an hour? Frightening!
“Somebody? Anybody?” the voice continued.
I woke up with sweat all over my body. This has happened for-the-what number of time this year I cannot fathom. All I can tell is that the dreams feel really real. Coincidentally, I did not scream out in the middle of the night tonight. The same scene
emerges in my dreams. I appear in this forest of whiteness. You could call it the forest of purity it’s so white! I hear a damsel in distress calling out to someone. I run around looking for her. The only thing guiding me to the girl is her voice.
“But did you see anyone?” the psych asked.
“No”.
“How can you be sure she’s calling out to you specifically? It could be someone else she’s reaching out to”.
“I just know”.
“Okay”, she penned down what I told her.
“Is that it?” I asked her.
“There is still much to look into but were done for
today”, she said looking at the wall clock above my head.
I got up instantly to leave.
“Ma’am your next appointment has been cancelled”, said the assistant opening the door for me.
I did not turn to bid her goodbye or ask about anything else. This was humiliating for me: talking about being prince charming. What is this a fairytale? I asked myself. Yes, maybe. I thought to myself. But the dreams feel so real. They are called wet dreams, the doctor had told me.
I had gladly accepted that. Unwilling but obliged. I opened the door to my house. A sharp creak polluted the air. Ours was a house of two stories,
simple and functional; adequate for ordinary
purposes.
“How was the session? Any progress?” my dad
asked me.
“The same”, I responded.
“The same?” my mom retorted. “We have been paying her huge sums of cash so that you could get better. Even the neighbors have gotten to know about your freak out sessions in the middle of the night”, my mom said.
I decided I wasn’t going to let her bickering annoy me. I ran upstairs to my room and shut the door forcefully. This constant bickering has got to stop. I did what I often do when I’m not in the mood for things, surf the internet. There was going to be a
world championship in online gaming. Not that I ever had any interest in such topics, but I thought I might give it a try this one time. Thousands of
players around the world had joined in. I remained part of the audience since I did not have any professional experience prior to the game. I proved myself right. I wasn’t at all that hooked in the process. After an hour of watching the online tournament I became drowsy. I lounged on the chair I was sitting on and soon fell asleep.
There was a beautiful, slender woman standing right in front of me. The place was foggy but the contrast
was high since I saw everything in high definition.
Cold but enjoyable was the weather. She was wearing a pink gown, covering all of her body. Her
hair was yellow. I spotted her a few feet away from me. She made no move to come closer to me. I was
contemplating whether to inch further.
“I am Ayra”, she said.
“I am Adrienne”, I informed her.
“I am stuck here in the dreamland. I’m in comatose.
I wanted to be rescued”, she told me.
“Am I the rescuer?” I asked her.
“Hmm”, she nodded.
“That means that you’re sleeping beauty and I’m prince charming”, I said.
She made no gesture to acknowledge my finding.
Instead, she just looked straight into my eye.
I felt wobbly. Almost slipped from the chair I had dosed off in. Again, it felt real.
“Dinner’s ready”, my mom called from downstairs.
The clock on my bedside table showed 9 p.m. I don’t know how I had been asleep for so many
hours. My throat quenched for some water immediately. Exhausted from the telepathic journey I slowly made my way down the stairs. My head
was not spinning but my vision was sort of blurry.
“You’re up early”, my dad taunted me. “You look tired”, my dad corrected himself.
“I’m groggy from sleep deprivation”, I lied to him.
“Enough you two”, my mom interrupted placing the bowl of food on the table.
The smell of savory food dissolved in the air. As usual, white rice was on the menu along with spicy
chicken curry. For once my mother decided to leave out vegetables from our cuisine.
I was so hungry that I was two plates of heaped up rice and almost devoured half of the chicken curry
which was served for all of us.
“Nice appetite”, my dad joked. “It’s good to see you so alive after a long hiatus. Your mother and I had thought we had lost you psychologically”, my dad said.
My mother let out a deep breath. She had tears in her eyes. I nodded with her in consideration holding her hand which she had extended to me.
“Do you still see her?” my mom asked.
I felt queasy. I never informed anyone about Ayra except for the psych. I don’t think my mother will ever find it easy that I have been obsessing as the psych had diagnosed over a girl in my dreams.
“You’re mother wants to know if you are actually attending your therapy sessions”, my dad corrected her.
“Yes, of course”, I answered feeling a little guilty.
“You don’t answer your mother these days”, my dad said matter-of-factly.
“I was lost”, I admitted.
“Your mother and I are worried for you”, my dad stated.
“I will try to better my concentration from now on”, I said.
I pushed myself from the table freeing my body and got off the table. It wasn’t my turn for the dishes tonight. Phew. These last few months have been good for me academically. I was focusing better on my studies. Getting straight A’s was feeling like a piece of cake. For some reason it felt better whenever I remembered the sight of Ayra. It was memory to hold onto.
I left the football team because I just could not put all of my strength into the game. After each episode of these real like dreams I would wake up fatigued.
Daily sit outs would have eventually kicked me of the team. So, I decided to leave the team on my own
terms.
“Are you sure?” the coach had asked me.
I can’t count how many times he had asked me this question. Each time I would feel humiliated to answer yes. I played good but was chickening out
due to some health issues. My team members looked at me weirdly as if I had lost my manliness.
It was utterly humiliating.
“You can always make the team back in the tryouts, you remember that, right?” the coach told me
repeatedly.
That was consoling to know! I held onto that. I was still a man.
Her face flashed before my eyes. A wide temple with high cheekbones, big, full lips, chiseled cheeks and almond shaped eyes. Her nose was straight with the tip being more on the rounded side and a pointy chin. It was her long, luscious tresses that framed
her face quite nicely. Her face was a diamond.
Ayra. I found her name unique. It’s not in the commonly names list. Beautiful. Very ladylike. A womanly name. What’s in a name you ask? Well,
everything. Our names distinguish us from the rest of the crowd. The more unique someone’s name is the easier to remember them by. But it was her
beauty that was remarkable. Her face was easily recognizable given that she was an Aphrodite.
Should I be conscious of my looks? I stared deeply at my face in the mirror. I was medium built, five eleven in height. To some, I looked like a jock.
Looks never bothered me before. Men were given physical strength, something which I lacked these
days. This made me more aware of my exterior attributes. I settled I might be okay looking since she was reaching out to me.
The phrase physical strength revolved around my head. I got down and did my push up routine. At least a hundred push-ups a day, my coach had instructed at the field. I followed his commands to a T from my head. My biceps were going to look
good. When I was done, I headed for the shower because I was sweaty.
We lived in the suburbs. So, it was naturally really quite in the neighborhood. Taking a shower late in the night meant waking up the entire neighborhood.
And I think I did just that. My mom knocked on the bathroom door to check if the water was running on
its own.
“Adrienne, you in there?” she called out.
“Mom, I’m taking a shower”, I complained.
“Don’t be long sweetheart, you might catch a cold”, she warned.
I listened to her words carefully even though it bothered me that she considers me a child still.
Come on! I’m seventeen. I’ve grown up already.
“That’s exactly what a child would say”, my dad said.
I didn’t realize I was speaking my mind out.
“We are being every cautious with you. You’re our only child. You’re mother and I had decided way
before you were even born that we would only have one child and do the best parenting with that only child. But now it seems that the water is way above our heads”, my father told me.
I felt guilty. Actually, I was supposed to feel shattered that I was crushing their hopes and dreams. But I felt guilty because I did not have any
reign or control over my life anymore. It was all about the girl in my dreams. I wondered if she was the girl of my dreams. Maybe. She was way too
girly by her looks. It’s not that I know her properly.
I have only just seen her standing in front of me, a few feet away, calling out to me. Out of the twelve episodes I had with Ayra, I only got to know her
name. She, on the other hand, is probably oblivious to my identity.
