Dreams

I don’t know why I am doing this, but I’d just woken up from a vivid dream and jotted everything down. I don’t know why I’m sharing it with the world, but here it is:

There was a brothel that was infamous, that was whispered, like it was the one of the best around. They knew what was right for you, they knew their craft. A friend found out that I had never been, and decided to bring me and we passed by this field and it was this 4 storey old house, it looked run down, decaying, the windows all blackened.

We were inside, and there were 3 entrances to pass. The third one had a mild sexual show going on in the back of a semi where you had to climb into to get in. Upon closer, one of the performers was a friend of mine from High School, Selda. I recognised her and she, me. We exchanged pleasantries and said something to the effect of hoping that I wasn’t offended and I had replied that I had seen worse.

We make it through to the main room where there were a dozen other people waiting. I talk to a lady and I get my name jotted down in queue, and I wait.

A time skip happens, and I realise that its nearing midnight or 3 am. I go and talk to one of the ones in charge and I tell them that I need to take my turn soon, I have to get home because my parents will freak if I’m not at home when they wake and I have university later. Cassie is somewhere in the old house as well.

They bump me up, waking one of the boys to see to me, and I’m led into a room where he is. He is boyish in his face, but large, fat, hairy legs and stunted feet. His face wasn’t unpleasant to look at, but not my type. Just too boyish – brown hair, pale skin. Hesitantly I climb into bed, and he takes one look at me and smirks. He gently takes my leg and starts teasing the back of my knee, eliciting squirms and squeals from me.

Next I know I’m riding towards university, on a weekend, on a day that I was supposed to be with my ex, but I did not want to be with him. I pass by the stretch of road where the brothel is behind the factory in the yellow field of straw or long yellowing grass. I look, and it appeared to be the host of a Hungarian Star Wars Get-together.

The bus I’m on stops at my university, and it reminds me of Assumption in at Bang-na, large, white and cream. I throw my messenger bag out of the bus and I jump out, heading to the canteen. I argue with the guy behind the counter the hurry my order. I had ordered Teriyaki chicken burger and coke to go, but they can’t seem to get the order right. Next to me, giving me a look of disdain are one of my old high school bullies, Alda.

I’m cowed, just trying to get out of there. It was nearing 12:30 pm, and at this time, I knew my ex would be at my house, picking me up. What would he do if he realises I’m not there? I check my mobile – an old 3310 Nokia. No messages. I eat my burger and head out.

I catch up with a male friend. It could be Chris, I don’t know. He was tall, not large, but not thin either. I check my phone again, and no messages. I’m wondering whats going on, why he hasn’t messaged me yet, and my friend and I are in a court yard, when I hear my name yelled.

Its my ex, somehow roaming around as if possessed, like a prerevealed ghost from Panty and Stocking. I draw a chibi version of him in a sketch pad, and suddenly I’m at home again.

But its an old home, the one at Esteban Abada, Loyola Heights. I stand there, wondering what we’re doing there. What happened to the old home. I turn around and I see my father and my mother on the couch in their bathrobes, which was strange, because I was in 1st and 2nd year high school when we lived there, and my parents separated way before then. What were they doing there together?

I hear the garage door opening, and I run downstairs (Esteban Abada house did not have a garage door). Its our maid, and then I knew I was dreaming and I tried to wake myself up.

I open my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling and I tried waking myself up again, and I saw my own room. I was awake.

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