The wind howls outside my window. Aluminum blinds scrape endlessly against their metal frame, a thin, grating sound that drills into my skull. Beneath it all, my clock ticks, one second at a time, the only steady thing in this small, cramped room. I stare at the ceiling.
My head buzzes, the dull aftermath of too much ethanol still swimming through my blood. I can't remember the last night I fell asleep sober. Ever since I came to this new country, ever since I started slaving away in this godforsaken supermarket, sobriety feels like a stranger. I ask myself the same question every night. What am I doing with my life?
I haven't contributed anything to humankind. I wake up, work, eat, drink, sleep, repeat. A meaningless loop. A worthless, monotonous existence. No matter how hard I try to swallow this bitter pill of reality, no matter how much I lie to myself, something inside me refuses to shut up. I tell myself I want a simple life. Carefree. Ordinary. Invisible.
But deep down, there's a part of me that wants something else. Something bigger. It wants to be someone. It despises the idea of rotting away in this hellhole. It doesn't care about comfort. It doesn't care about peace. And that terrifies me.
Should I accept this part of myself? If I do, will I lose who I am? Will I become the same heartless being my father once was, the man who shaped my nightmares as much as my ambitions? The inner conflict gnaws at me until my chest feels tight.
What would you do? If your past haunted you every single night, if you ran from it only to turn around and find it still keeping pace, what choice would you make? If your perfect self followed you everywhere, whispering that no matter the field, no matter the path, it would always rise to the top and be crowned the best. But it came with a price. Ego. A double edged sword. The same blade that carved my father into something powerful and then destroyed him.
The clock reads 3:42 a.m. I sigh. I should sleep. I have to wake up at ten. Another day of meaningless tasks awaits me. And with those thoughts, I finally drift away.
I float. A vast, endless void stretches around me. Maybe this is what the universe looks like when you're truly alone within it. I drift forward, carried by something unseen, until I realize I'm following a river. A river of milk. Chocolate flows through it like molten veins, thick and absurd. I can't help but smirk. Some things, it seems, refuse to change, even in dreams.
As I drift, a memory surfaces. The last conversation I had with my father before I left home. My mother and father were crying, their faces red and raw, but before we reached the airport terminal, he pulled me aside. His voice was quiet. Fragile.
"I know you still hate me," he said. "And I don't blame you."
I said nothing.
"I know regretting what I did won't fix anything. I was a horrible father. My life has been nothing but regret. But the one thing I don't regret is marrying your mother. And having you and your brother."
He hugged me. I didn't hug him back. He must've felt it. He let go, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder instead.
"I know you're afraid of that other side of yourself," he continued. "I hope you find a way to make it yours. I lost mine, and for that I'm grateful, but I hope you take a different path. I know it's scary. I know you can't rely on anyone else. Still, I hope you make it yours so you can become what you were always meant to be."
I walked away after that. Toward the terminal. Toward my future. When I looked back, I saw them both sobbing, but my eyes stayed on him. His shoulders sagged. His gaze was hollow. Guilt and sorrow pressed down on him like something physical. I wished him luck under my breath. My brother couldn't make it because of school, but I wished him well too.
Why am I remembering this inside a dream? I smile faintly. It doesn't feel bad.
Ahead of me, the river bends toward something impossible, a black hole. Light collapses inward, folding into itself. The pull grows stronger, dragging everything toward oblivion. Would this really be what a black hole feels like? A stupid thought. I'd be dead if this were real. But it's a dream, so I let myself be pulled in.
Darkness. Nothingness. Then a burst of light. Something calls to me. I move toward it, swimming through the void, and slowly the light takes shape. It's me. But not quite. Calmer. Sharper. Eyes cold and calculating. I can't tell what he's thinking, but I know he's thinking everything.
I reach out. He smiles. A smile that speaks without words. Confidence. Certainty. Magnificence. Like an emperor standing in his rightful domain.
"Found you," he says.
I wake up. Calm. Calmer than I've ever felt in my life. Guess he really did find me. I stare at the ceiling and let out a quiet laugh.
"Hi," I whisper. "New me."
Welcome to this shitshow of a life.