updated in: March 8th 2015

I wake up, blink three times as I adjust to feeling alive and secure. I am apparently home and in bed. It is whatever in the morning, I can hear the birds outside my window and I can see the sun ray through the curtains, trying to reach the furthest corners of my room.

Aside from the fact that I’m already trembling and drowning in a pool of my own sweat, Akita’s face that’s dangerously so close to mine is the first thing I was greeted with in this morning. I flinch and close my eyes, my hands on my chest. “Jesus, Akita-“

I didn’t dream, which is strange. It feels like I wasn’t sleeping, instead, I was just paralyzed. My eyes are closed, I couldn’t move or feel anything. If I was really sleeping, whatever I saw last night would never leave my eyes. But strangely, I did sleep quite well.

Oh, I used the word sleep though I do think that it was not sleeping.

If I slept, I would’ve dreamed of something.

I can’t control my rapid breathing. I didn’t even know my heart would reach this state of beating. So hard and as if it is eager to get out of my body. To fly and leave me behind.

 I look around, I’m in my room and surprisingly don’t remember how did I end up here in my bed. I hear my father’s voice approaching as he’s conversing with my mother, I guess, and he opens the room, relief is revealed through his voice as he speaks. “Oh, Akita-“

Oh it’s been a while, I thought.

He titles his head out of the room and shouts so my mom would hear him. “Found’em, honey, he is in Daran’s room.” I hear a distant okay and then he approaches me with a smile. “Good morning,” He sits in the edge of the bed and warmheartedly pets Akita who has now found his place on my father’s lap. I still cannot process anything, I’m still paralyzed and I bet this has something to do with my dream, as usual. But I don’t remember that I had any dreams this time.

“why is my daughter so shocked to see her own father?” He jokes as he smiles at Akita who’s now his hand. God, I miss him so much. I miss his voice. I miss his warmth and his smile. I miss his warmth and I miss the aura he gives away that everything is fine and nothing will happen as long as I’m here.

“Well, I just woke up, you don’t expect people to smile back at you when they just woke up.” I get up, do my bed and tie up my hair. I stop and look the wall. “that-“

I stare at it like it is the most fascinating work of art I’ve ever come to encounter. “is, in fact, creepy. If anyone has ever done it to you, stay away from them.”

He laughs as he walks to the door. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m telling my father about the things that the humans consider acceptable while they are the opposite.” My eyes are still fixed on the wall that seemed abnormally unfamiliar to me. I wonder if I ate something strange last night. For a moment, I look at my father and note that his hair got longer and his face has clearly been neglected. He grew his mustache as well as a fine beard, I think he looks like a dad now. He significantly lost weight and I just noted that he has a new scratch on his face.

I walk to him, my eyes on the scratch near his cheekbone, frowning. I touch it, thinking of many ways and possibilities of encountering something worse. My mind is trying to think of how did he get it. Is it spontaneous? Like he suddenly walks into a branch at night and it did what it did to him. Or is it someone who has tried to get him but as he skillfully avoids the hit, he gets this small scratch.  But he answers without me asking. “it is just a cat.”

I blink. “A cat?”

He nods with a shadow of a smile. “Yeah, a cat.”

Okay, he is lying. He breaks the silence as he motions Akita to leave with him. “Come on, Akita, come on,” He chuckles. “your mom and I have been searching everywhere for him and the last place we expected he would be at is your room.”

I smile nervously at Akita, and didn’t know whether to worry and consider this as a bad sign since Akita always sleeps at our front door and has never stayed in someone’s room through the night. Before I close the door to change, dad reminds me that he had done the breakfast himself and I think I should be happy and cheer up. He was proud and I didn’t want to disappoint him so I smile and nod.

I wash my face and look closely at it. As if this is the first time seeing my face ever. I breath in and out. In and out. In and out.

Was it all an illusion?

Hopefully.

I apply some facial cream and wear my uniform. I go downstairs, kind of driven by the scent of the pancakes and the black, rich-flavored coffee. It’s been ages since we’ve had a normal family breakfast. I usually do everything myself. I wake up myself, do yesterday’s dishes myself, do the breakfast and the coffee for me and my mother myself and then leave without seeing her because she is either too busy or too tired. And when I happen to find her awake in the morning, she’s buried in clouds of smoke.

I pet Akita as he rushes to me, trying to forget that he was so close to my face this morning and it was creepy as hell. But once I touched him, a wave of memories hit me. I almost fall backwards. It all came. The thing I thought was a dream wasn’t.

I glimpse at the empty chairs and the food elegantly prepared. I grab a chair and sit. The rapid breathing and rising heartbeats condition is back. The whispers. The shadows. And the tingling cold wind accompanied by the scent of mud and rust and things I don’t want to recall.

My throat goes dry. My eyes are wide open. As if I didn’t close them, I will still have access to this part of my mind which enable me to clearly view what I saw last night, whether it was a dream or not.

I grab a glass of water and swallow it with a gulp. I wasn’t listening to my mother who was talking to me for a fine minute. It is not like I intentionally ignored her. I don’t do this, you know. She does it, yes, but not me. I turn to look at her as she sips some coffee and wrinkles her nose. “I need more sugar.”

Do I tell her?

What would I tell her? I wonder, lost and absentminded.

I feel like I need to delete some things and add others. I cannot just say it, but I have to. I experienced something strange and I need to share it with my family, just like any other person would do. The moment I open my mouth, my mother throws the small spoon and stands immediately as she curses in a low tone thinking I couldn’t hear. My father is calling her and he goes after her and then they both come to the table after a few minute, but mom didn’t sit.

The clock rings announcing that it is seven o’clock and I must not be late this morning because of my fear of this illusions. School today would be the best distraction, I convince myself.

It seems like my mother has something to say but since there is no time, she postpones it to another time. “Go back