You know how when you wake up, right before opening your eyes, you know that you’re awake, but for a moment or two don’t want your eyes to open up? That is also when, in those few moments you feel the most profound feelings; maybe it’s the residue of the dream you’re having, or perhaps an old memory comes back fluttering to say hello.
I had none of those feelings. I woke up with a heavy head, feeling as if someone has poured lead on my skull, and instantly realized something horrific – I was not in the same clothes I was in the previous night. I closed my almost open eyes and shut them tight! This had to be a nightmare, I had to be still dreaming. I was a light sleeper, but a heavy dreamer, as a result, I’m used to waking up thinking I’m still inside whatever dream I was dreaming, and desperately hoped that this was one of those scenarios.
As I lay there on a filthy mattress on the floor with my eyes shut tight, I could still hear the tired sound of the ceiling fan, desperately trying to cool it down. But it was hot and humid; probably more so because of how sick and worried I felt.
I fluttered my eyes open after a few minutes, thinking the nightmare was over. But no – I was still sprawled on that same dirty mattress on the floor; the ceiling was unfamiliar, if anything, this was definitely not my room. Where was I?
I tried recalling the events of last night, despite the throbbing headache that has reached almost a saturation point by now. I could remember we were out partying on one of the small hills our university was cluttered with. I remembered having a bit too much, and I remembered telling Asma, my friend, that I needed lie down and I also remembered a starry sky, but after that..?
I must have passed out… But how did I end up here? And where is this?
I tried getting up, but felt completely hollow, as if I didn’t even have a body anymore. I couldn’t, rather fell back on the mattress again, increasing my headache by a notch.
Lying, I took in my surroundings; it was clearly a mens’ room, that was evident from the clothes hanging from the open closet and the amount of clutter that was there in the room. I was in a shirt identical to the ones hanging, and could feel the lack of the binding feeling I hated so much on my chest, the feeling that came as a perk of wearing a bra… I fervently wished, despite knowing that it was in no way a dream, for it to be a nightmare! Because this couldn’t be, this just couldn’t be!
Just when I thought I was about to go completely crazy, the door cracked open, and a familiar face peeked inside. Asma asked,”Good that you’re up, now let’s get back to our hostel. You’ve made enough use of Aman’s room and his clothes for one day..err..night!”
Aman was Asma’s boyfriend.