Judy

Blackout.

Thick, impenetrable darkness.

There was no action, movement, thought, conscience. Time continued to stretch.

…

Like blanks; my eyelids slid open.

My hands dug into the sheets of the bed and my eyes simply peered at the ceiling. It was all a dense blur to me. For a moment, I felt comfort in the lack of movement, I found consolation in the stiffness of my body.

It was a dream. A nightmare. Again.

I thought they had stopped- I was wrong.

I swung my body upright on the bed. And held my head in between of my hands. I was fearful of the repetitive experiences. It is one thing encountering your fear for the first time, and another when encountering it endlessly. Remember the second time you had to receive an injection? Do you remember watching the needle getting close to perforating your delicate skin, knowing exactly how it is going to feel? Do you remember?

Now do you remember howling and bawling out of anger, then grabbing the misanthropic needle and transfixing it into the nurse's lap?

What? I did apologise to her. You know, silly childhood memories.

. . .

I sipped some water to calm my nerves down. My mind cleared. I was back to normal.

I perched on my bed, utterly motionless. I started thinking about it.

This time it was a woman. A rock rammed on her head- it cracked her skull open as her body twitched a bit like that of a dying animal.

"I bet it hurt." I thought to myself as I let out a sarcastic sigh.

It may seem surprising that I was capable of making jokes on such an incubus. But recurrence teaches a man how to live with the fear and pain. Don't get me wrong, it certainly did disturb me but if you expected a dramatic "I couldn't breathe, my body started to sweat and life is hell", then you are in the wrong state of mind.

. . .

I went back on thinking about it.

I tried to build a face in my head and I could recall red hair, tanned skin and blue eyes.

It's not like I saw her features in the dream. You never actually see anything in a dream, it's a feeling that tells you who he/she is or in my case how she looks.

Reliving the way, she was killed in my mind made me cringe, and assured me that I was about to skip another breakfast. Like I said, I really was disturbed, and imagining blood and flesh at every bite of your cereal is not very appetising.

I checked what time it was. 06:50am. My previously heavy eyes felt more alive.

It was summer, so the sun was out already, which made me feel less dark. I guess because "the brightness symbolises happiness". Classic.

I remember this one time, it was a bright sunny day- I was back home with my white pet rabbit, I do not know the location or any other context of the memory. I remember loud sirens. And a man barged into my room with a Heckler and Koch MP5 gun hanging on his shoulder and a serrated blade in his hand. Simon my delicately innocent pet rabbit, who would curl up close to my body whenever he would sense my sadness; his diminutive paw would tap gently against the ground every time he would fear anything; his cheerful ears would shrink whenever he would get sleepy- and this feral man with the serrated blade brutally grabbed Simon with his rugged, sanguine hands and…

. . .

Oh, and did I mention? It was a bright and sunny day.

. . .

Slowly, I made my way to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My hazel brown eyes looked black (maybe the fear did that), I had dark circles under my eyes, my face was all swollen up and I felt very dizzy.

I splashed cold water on my face and it tingled my skin making me feel revived.

I got my toothbrush and brushed my teeth.

And then walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

The time passed on slowly...

My footsteps were heard through the reticent house, my breath echoed through the uncanny walls.

I had a lot of time left till I had to get ready to go to work. So, I decided to watch some TV.

I happen to never really watch news because my mind stored enough cruel murders.

"I didn't really need an additional package." I thought to myself and again... sighed with humorous pity for myself.

I kept changing channels, right when-

A picture of a familiar looking woman flashed.

I kept on clicking the back button on the remote till I saw her face again.

I couldn't find the channel with her picture but I ended up on a news channel. The headlines said "46-year-old lady found dead".

My heart dropped when I saw the victim's face again.

Anxiety filled my gut.

I saw a woman with…

Well…

Red hair, blue eyes and tanned skin.

"Weird!" I thought to myself.

I mean I was pretty sure the woman looked exactly the same.

I was so unsure of how to feel.

I mean you cannot blame me for being baffled. The odds of this were, well, very low. Maybe it was simply a very similar looking woman. Either that, or I was qualified to call myself a psychic now.

"I could spend the rest of my life showing off about this amazing co-incidence." I thought as I grinned.

Such incidents are probably what made people come up with quotes such as "Nothing is impossible in this world" and bla bla.

I kept on watching the news. The reporters exaggerated the whole scene. They said that the murder took place around 04:38am and that it happened somewhere near Harrow.

The more I thought of it, the more serious my thoughts got. I wonder why this had happened- I mean there was a very high possibility that my memories have been misplaced. Sometimes, our episodic buffer can be influenced by the unthinkable… perhaps, this woman just looked similar to the woman in my dreams and my brain just swapped it after I saw this picture.

I was lost in the maze of my thoughts.

I felt the urge to search the news up again on the internet and so I did. I could feel the nervous pain in my stomach. My fingers kept typing and clicking smoothly.

I was extremely desperate to look at the woman's picture.