The lost memories

Published on: May 03 2016 by Administrator

lostMemories

The house looks creepy made up of walls of red bricks and a door that looks like it opens to hell. The lawn and garden, which had grown to look like more of a forest, were in worse condition than the house. The lawn had not been mowed in decades. The trees surrounding the house appeared to be protecting an intruder inside. Unexpectedly, I heard a scream followed by silence. Then a cry for help, “Please help, help!”

Upon hearing the cry I ran into the house against my better judgment. Looking at the house earlier, the doors seemed to have been locked shut. Upon closer inspection, however, and as I ran straight for them, the doors were thankfully open. As I got closer, the scream for help became louder. Gathering my courage, I entered the house. As soon as I did, the shouting and screaming stopped replaced with loud whispers and one other inaudible sound. Straining my ears, I was unable to pinpoint the exact source of the inaudible sound. As I walked further into the house, the sound grew louder, horrifying me so that I could barely stop myself form screaming. The scene began to change as I continued walking. I spotted a round clock just about to strike seven. I quickly realized that I was my own bedroom and was late for college. The loud sound rang out, “Wake up, Pinakki!!” and I realized it was my mother. I hurried myself out of bed, rushing to the closet to get my uniform. The fear of being late for college was so intense that I instantly forgot my dream and hurried to the college. It was a busy day and by the end of it I was so tired I instantly returned to dreamland when my head hit the pillow. The scene tonight was the same as yesterday, but was now filled with colors and was more beautiful. I easily recognized the old house and had a feeling I belonged there as if I knew the every part of the house very well. Tonight there were no screams; instead there was melodious sound emanating from inside the house. Unlike the day the before, I rushed into the house not with fear but with excitement. As soon as I stepped foot inside, the scene became discolored and the melodious sound turned into the all too familiar high-pitched cry for help.  It was as if the dream was bullying me and I had to run from it. Nightly this dream occurred, disturbing my daily life entirely.

I was so tired and fed up with the never-ending pain the dream caused that I was willing to do anything to get rid of it. I discussed it with my parents, but I soon regretted it as they worried a lot about me—as parents, even my smallest problems disturbed them a great deal. They thought of different ways to help rid me of the dream, but none were good enough. The doctors gave up and so did the hermits and the sage. I was now so helpless that I isolated myself form society, enclosed myself in a room that was dark and deeply reflected my life. The life I used to love was now a burden to me. I thought I was helpless and could not recover as the dreams never ended. There was only one way to end it, and that was by ending myself.

The night I made the decision to take my own life, the dream was different. In this version, I was able to pinpoint the source of the scream for help. I rushed to the room from where it came, but it was locked. Pulling and yanking as hard as I could, I was finally able to open it. Inside I found a child bleeding heavily. “It’s ok,” she kept repeating over and over. I knew this child—it was Rin, my younger sister whom my family had lost some time ago. Her face had always been clear to me as she was not only a sister but my best friend. It had taken me months to accept that she was no longer with me. Cancer had stolen her from me, but that was a long time ago. The next day was the anniversary of her death, and I had the dream yet again. Again in the dream I saw her covered in blood, making me emotional to the point that I could say nothing to her. I picked her up in my arms and then I lost her again. I woke up suddenly. This scenario continued for a while until I could bare the pain no longer. “I am sorry,” I wanted to tell my parents as they expected a lot from me. I told them nothing about seeing Rin in my dream as I didn’t want them to worry about me.

Sorrow spread as the news of Pinakki’s death reached his parents. He had jumped from the college building. Despite the doctor’s attempt to save him, he was gone. He could no longer carry the emotional burden inflicted upon him by his recurring dream, so he ended his own life. He would now be able to reunite with his sister whom he had lost long ago.  

 

Shreyansh Lodha

Class of 2019

Filed under: Fiction