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Sunday, May 12, 2013

THE MORNING AFTER

I had a dream that I had committed a hideous crime. Someone was murdered but I knew not who. Neither was I sure the victim was a man or a woman. All I knew was that I did the killing.

 I remember I used a pillow to cover the victim's face. I remember its desperate struggle for air, its strong resistance against my attack. Its  hard pushing and hitting at my arms continuously. Till its very last breath.

Now, the deep marks caused by its fingernails are clearly visible along the entire length of both my hands. The pain is annoying.

I remember dragging the body from the bed and putting it into a large black garbage bag. I dragged the bag out the front door of the house to my car. The street outside was completely deserted. Looking back over my shoulder, I realised that that wasn't my house from which I had just exited. Whose house was that, in which I had committed such a deplorable crime, I couldn't figure out.

 What was the reason for such an horrendous act, I simply had no clue.

The next thing I knew was that it was morning.  I was comfortably sleeping in my bed, in my home.

 There were several loud bangs on the front door. I crept out of bed, went to the window and peeped. As I lifted back the window curtain to have a better view, there at that instant came a severe pain in my arm. Immediately that brought back to my memory the killing  I did the night before.

 So, I guessed,  everything was real.

 So real.

From my window I could see five police officers dressed in darkest blue. Three of them were standing at my front door. The other two were examining my car, parked a few steps away. I noticed that one of them was attempting to open the booth with a jack. I remember I hid the body in the bag there. It was still there.

I didn't know what to do. Was it better to open the door or to run?

Before I could even think, my door was broken in and five officers stood before me with their pistols pointing at my head. I was pushed back against the wall.

One officer said something to me in an angry voice. I could hardly make out a word of what he said. As my eyes were glued to the window for I could see a body climbing out of the booth of my car.

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