The beginning of his end...

I want to open my eyes, to see color.

To see my room decorated with a bookshelf containing many books that I have yet to read. On another side of the room, I want to visualize myself working at my desk. Busy finishing homework and creating upcoming projects with materials I had bought online that afternoon. Next to the desk is a closet for my many sets of clothes that fit perfectly for me. On one wall, there's a windowsill that hangs over my bed. Feeding me sunlight in the morning and the cold blackness of the night. And finally, the last wall of my room contains the frame of my door. Next to the door sits a basket for my worn-out clothes that I had used that day...

But when I open my eyes, I can see darkness. But every now and then, I see images. Images of locations. Places I've never been to before.

The first image that I tried so hard to engrave into my mind was a subway station. The station was well above the surface, elevated on steel beams. Guiding the trains in and out of their tunnels.

But for some reason, I can see atop one of the moving subway trains, on the roof. I can see that the night sky is fully on show like a painting but somewhat materialized. Every building is flooded with yellow lights.

I look back at the tail of the train to see a figure wearing a hoodie, cotton sweatpants, and flip-flops. Their clothes flapping in the wind as is mine. It's hard to tell who they are but hey have a thin body type. Then the images cut out after that.

I've seen that same set of images atleast 20 times. But no matter how many times I see it, I can never look away from the yellow and white lights of the city and then to the figure walking towards me from the back end of the train.