2 Aseema

Aseema Masara

"Another bad dream?"

My dad stops at my door, leaning against the doorframe. I nod in response and let out a frustrated sigh. It gets more annoying each time. I feel like I reach a place and then it all just slips away.

"Hey, hey."

He consoles as he walks further into the room and sits on the corner of my bed. He takes my hands into his big ones and looks into my eyes.

"It is alright. Maybe next time you will get better insight into what you are trying to reveal to yourself."

"I don't know about that." I mutter. "This dream felt... Weird."

He looks away for a moment, as if he had to collect himself before responding to me.

"Sweetheart, sometimes our subconscious uses very unconventional methods to get messages through to us."

My father is a world remowned psychiatrist. One of the best if not the best in the country. Ever since I was a kid, I've always had a "special" way of seeing the world as he put it and he always put everything into perspective for me. However, lately it has been feeling like things have been falling out of place and there is nothing him or even his holistic healing can do about it.

Dad looks far off. His eyes have travelled as if he is contemplating something. I suggested being medicated once and he strongly objected. Saying, I do not need medication. I called him out for being a hypocrite. Referring to the fact that he would prescribe medication to his patients if they were anything like me. 'Nobody in this world is like you.' Is all he would say to shut me down.

He looks to my chest and immediately looks up at me inquisitively.

"You are not wearing your necklace?"

"Yeah, it gives me a rash now." I explain and he frowns at me, confused. "It hurts, like it's burning. I haven't worn it for a few days now and the rash is gone. I don't know, it must be some kind of allergic reaction." I explain but his frown only grows deeper.

"Can I see it? Maybe I can get it checked for you."

I roll my eyes a little. I know he'll definitely get it checked. I have been wearing this necklace for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, I would take it off all the time but by the time I turned 7 my dad had explained that it belonged to my mom when she was alive, I never took it off again. Not even in the water.

But a few days ago I was at the nightclub, celebrating my 18th and it just started burning my skin, not irritating, burning. It healed hours after so I just categorised it as a severe rash.

I get out of bed and walk to my dresser to find the necklace in my jewellery box. As soon as I get a hold of it, it is as though a shock runs through my entire body, burning me from the inside out.

"Aseema?!" I hear my dad yell, faded somewhere far off.

Suddenly the room is cold and the feeling is so familiar.