I am dancing, my hands creating patterns amidst the air, my waist swinging along, my legs throwing me upwards, up where I belong. I feel energised, as if this is what I was born to do, as if euphoria can only be found here, in this small dark room. I perform a cambre and do a cabriole with perfection. I stop. Why am I dancing around without any music? I should play some on my phone. But where is it? I check my pockets, not here. Maybe I should turn the lights on. But where are the switches? I follow walls, mostly because I cannot see a thing here; I cannot seem to find a single switch. Maybe I should continue dancing without music, but this place gives me a weird feeling.
I sit down after pulling off a pirouette and I realise that the room is filled with the smell of lilacs and of mud, both, my favourite. There is the smell of other flowers too but lilacs are the most pungent. It is almost like this dark room is in a garden filled with flowers, mostly lilacs. If heaven was real it would be here. But where are the flowers? Didn’t I just go round the room? So where are they? Again, this room gives me a weird feeling.
I lie down on the cold wooden floor and think. My life flashes in front of me, as if watching a movie. I see myself stealing a chocolate from the refrigerator and then turning around to find my mother staring at me with a smile, those times were good times. Then came high school memories. I could see myself eating something while the teacher was teaching, later after class she had scolded me saying”Mr Jake William, I know you are hungry but that is bad manners”, those times were good times. Next up, college, where I met my beautiful wife. I could see us bunking college to see the latest movies. Those times were good times. Then came our wedding. I could see myself blushing as she walked in clad in the most gorgeous dress ever. Those times were good times. In this walk down the decorated memory lane I forgot all about the weird feeling this small dark room gave me. I started wondering how I got here. Last thing I remember was that I had a terrible ache in my chest. That was back at home. But my house doesn’t have such a mysterious room. So where am I? And how did I get here? This room gives me a weird feeling.
As I wonder, the ground seems to be falling, slowly and steadily. What is happening? I get up but fall down again! Is there an earthquake? Then I hear the loud scream of a woman. “No.” She wailed. She sounded so much like my wife. Why was she crying? Was she hurt? I should check on her. I try getting up again only to fail. This is worrying me. Something soft touches my face, like a cushion. Where did that come from? I try pushing it off but it seems to be attached to something hard and it is as tall as I am. I try to get up again only to fail; the cushion seems to hold me down. What is this room? I try rolling out from under the cushion but there are cushions attached to something hard on my sides as well. What is it with this room? I feel trapped. The floor seems to have stopped falling.
My wife speaks again, in a softer voice “rest in peace Jake”. Wait what? I am Jake and I am very much alive. I try to scream out to her but my voice seems to have died. I try my hardest to push these hard surfaces lined with cushions off me but my hands seem to have died. I try to push it off but my legs seem to have died try to raise my head but it seems to have died.
Then come numerous voices saying the same thing my wife said “rest in peace Jake”. Which Jake died? Why can’t I see the people? Why am I trapped here? Why was the ground falling?i feel the terrible ache in my chest again, But I cannot scream in pain, I cannot hold my chest and try stopping the pain, all of my organs seem dead. I resolve to shut my eyes to escape the darkness. I try opening them again but they seem to have died too.
Then comes the voice of the local priest “lower the coffin of Jake William”
Was it after all a dance of death then?