Escaping from Nothing | Chapter 1: The Run
I felt myself running.
I was running on a highway with no visible end, just the horizon.
I kept running and felt my legs start to fail me. I started feeling the ache and sore creeping up, and my heart beating so loudly that I felt it trembling.
However, I could not stop.
I was running away.
I was running away from something, something unknown.
I turned around and saw nothing.
Nonetheless, the trail of terror was visible in my muscles and I could not help but keep running and running…
Suddenly, a car emerged from my right side, sounded their horn and hit me hard.
I could feel it.
The pain hit like someone hammered my arm. Hard and solid, I felt it from my right arm, then my right shoulder, then my right leg, then the right side of my head… then it spread to my whole body, consuming me, while blood dripped down my body.
I was forced to lie down from the hit, as the driver stopped the car and ran over to my slowly fading body.
He had a straight and cold face, staring right at me.
He said without a beat, “You brought this to yourself.”
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I woke up in a huge shock, sat up quickly, started panting but slowly found my breath.
I woke up in a double bed and from the corner of my eye; I could see a man lying on my right side.
Who is he?
I lied back down and saw his face.
He was the man from the dream.
He looked familiar…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up again.
This time, back in the real world.
What just happened?
It was just a dream…
I got up and picked up my glasses from the side table, put them on, twisted my body and smoothed out my messy hair from all the rubbing and turning on the pillow caused by the nightmare.
It was not horrific in a sense with blood and gore; it was something internal… Something… psychological.
I shook my head and quickly got up to continue my morning.
It was fortunately a Saturday.
I looked in the mirror and smoothed my dark eye circles with my cold ring fingers.
I could not believe how cold the morning was. It was winter after all.
I wiped my face with a towel soaked in icy cold water and it instantly woke me up.
I walked back to my bedroom and sat on my bed. I wanted to stay in bed in this cold morning, but I did not want to fall asleep again.
Better have breakfast instead…
I got up to look at the clock. It looked like it was only 8am; too early for a Saturday morning but not too early for a breakfast.
I got up, went to the kitchen and found a can of baked beans.
I shrugged, opened the can and poured it out in a ceramic bowl.
I popped it in the microwave and sighed.
Who was that man?
I was confused by my own thoughts.
Do I know him?
I turned around and quickly turned off the microwave before it hits 0.
I got the hot baked beans and started nibbling away after blowing at it before every bite.
It was just a dream… nothing more.
I shrugged and concluded maybe paranoia got in the way of my logical thinking.
I got up and opened my laptop to waste the rest of my day away.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Work was such a chore.
I specialise in lighting in a video production company and have to carry heavy lighting equipment around with me for work and my supervisor. He never seemed to care about my panting and not keeping up with the rest of the crew.
“You will get used to it,” he always said.
I am sure I will. Probably, one day, but I was easily exhausted, and it was pretty much killing me.
Despite all the struggles, I do like my job. I am fascinated with how lighting affects a stage set, a picture or a play’s delivery. I loved working with lights, and even though I am, still a trainee who has to carry equipment around and do all the heavy work, the results for our customers and photographers never ceased to amaze me, especially on how much better it looks with the light positioned under my supervisor’s directions.
I got around and positioned the lights as I looked around and started drinking my bottle of water, due to the heat in the studio. I looked around aimlessly and then looked at the photographer.
The photographer’s name is Kael. I had a crush on him before, because in this studio of ours, not every photographer is good-looking or single; he is both. I had my fair amount of time being awkward around him, and never had the guts to tell him I like him.
Meanwhile, he looked professionally into his camera, then at the surrounding lighting, then turned around to see me staring straight at him. I almost choked on my water and had to sniff a little, so the water does not go out through my nose.
He smiled at me.
Another awkward/stupid act caught in his gaze. I felt pathetic.
I turned to look at the models posing for the shoot. They must be a bunch of poorly paid model, because they did not look enthusiastic enough for the circus themed shoot.
Almost instantly, I heard someone approach the studio with hurried and heavy footsteps. Maybe the hollow hallway made his footsteps sound heavy, but nonetheless, it was heard all through the studio.
Then I saw him.
I saw him, in his t-shirt with sweat across his back, panting from all the running he must have gone through to get here. I looked at my wristwatch and could not catch the time in my brain. I looked up at him again.
How could it be?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
©Yolanda Yip (Wintsarye)
I was running on a highway with no visible end, just the horizon.
I kept running and felt my legs start to fail me. I started feeling the ache and sore creeping up, and my heart beating so loudly that I felt it trembling.
However, I could not stop.
I was running away.
I was running away from something, something unknown.
I turned around and saw nothing.
Nonetheless, the trail of terror was visible in my muscles and I could not help but keep running and running…
Suddenly, a car emerged from my right side, sounded their horn and hit me hard.
I could feel it.
The pain hit like someone hammered my arm. Hard and solid, I felt it from my right arm, then my right shoulder, then my right leg, then the right side of my head… then it spread to my whole body, consuming me, while blood dripped down my body.
I was forced to lie down from the hit, as the driver stopped the car and ran over to my slowly fading body.
He had a straight and cold face, staring right at me.
He said without a beat, “You brought this to yourself.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up in a huge shock, sat up quickly, started panting but slowly found my breath.
I woke up in a double bed and from the corner of my eye; I could see a man lying on my right side.
Who is he?
I lied back down and saw his face.
He was the man from the dream.
He looked familiar…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up again.
This time, back in the real world.
What just happened?
It was just a dream…
I got up and picked up my glasses from the side table, put them on, twisted my body and smoothed out my messy hair from all the rubbing and turning on the pillow caused by the nightmare.
It was not horrific in a sense with blood and gore; it was something internal… Something… psychological.
I shook my head and quickly got up to continue my morning.
It was fortunately a Saturday.
I looked in the mirror and smoothed my dark eye circles with my cold ring fingers.
I could not believe how cold the morning was. It was winter after all.
I wiped my face with a towel soaked in icy cold water and it instantly woke me up.
I walked back to my bedroom and sat on my bed. I wanted to stay in bed in this cold morning, but I did not want to fall asleep again.
Better have breakfast instead…
I got up to look at the clock. It looked like it was only 8am; too early for a Saturday morning but not too early for a breakfast.
I got up, went to the kitchen and found a can of baked beans.
I shrugged, opened the can and poured it out in a ceramic bowl.
I popped it in the microwave and sighed.
Who was that man?
I was confused by my own thoughts.
Do I know him?
I turned around and quickly turned off the microwave before it hits 0.
I got the hot baked beans and started nibbling away after blowing at it before every bite.
It was just a dream… nothing more.
I shrugged and concluded maybe paranoia got in the way of my logical thinking.
I got up and opened my laptop to waste the rest of my day away.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Work was such a chore.
I specialise in lighting in a video production company and have to carry heavy lighting equipment around with me for work and my supervisor. He never seemed to care about my panting and not keeping up with the rest of the crew.
“You will get used to it,” he always said.
I am sure I will. Probably, one day, but I was easily exhausted, and it was pretty much killing me.
Despite all the struggles, I do like my job. I am fascinated with how lighting affects a stage set, a picture or a play’s delivery. I loved working with lights, and even though I am, still a trainee who has to carry equipment around and do all the heavy work, the results for our customers and photographers never ceased to amaze me, especially on how much better it looks with the light positioned under my supervisor’s directions.
I got around and positioned the lights as I looked around and started drinking my bottle of water, due to the heat in the studio. I looked around aimlessly and then looked at the photographer.
The photographer’s name is Kael. I had a crush on him before, because in this studio of ours, not every photographer is good-looking or single; he is both. I had my fair amount of time being awkward around him, and never had the guts to tell him I like him.
Meanwhile, he looked professionally into his camera, then at the surrounding lighting, then turned around to see me staring straight at him. I almost choked on my water and had to sniff a little, so the water does not go out through my nose.
He smiled at me.
Another awkward/stupid act caught in his gaze. I felt pathetic.
I turned to look at the models posing for the shoot. They must be a bunch of poorly paid model, because they did not look enthusiastic enough for the circus themed shoot.
Almost instantly, I heard someone approach the studio with hurried and heavy footsteps. Maybe the hollow hallway made his footsteps sound heavy, but nonetheless, it was heard all through the studio.
Then I saw him.
I saw him, in his t-shirt with sweat across his back, panting from all the running he must have gone through to get here. I looked at my wristwatch and could not catch the time in my brain. I looked up at him again.
How could it be?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
©Yolanda Yip (Wintsarye)
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