In Continuum.

Nightmares Part I: The Headless Girl

As mentioned a little earlier,the insomniac inside of me seems to have returned into my life once more.Like i said,i dont give credit to World Cup for this of course.I have insomnia not because of World Cup,but rather the other way round.I watch World Cup because i have insomnia,to be exact.

Like this old friend visiting from the depth of my most dreaful memories,the way the thoughts haunt you at night is unbearable.I wonder if this is going to last throughout the rest of my life,the way they come and go like an old friend from overseas,one of those friends selling pyramid schemes,bugging you to buy them.Yeah,that sort of friends.How bloody irritating.

Anyway,i have very blurred memory of my nights in camp these days.I mean,i dont exactly know how i get through the night most of the time.Adjusting my head constantly on my pillow,when the burning sensation in my cheek gets way beyond the point of tolerance.Or the constant debate as to whether i should cover myself with blanket or not.On one hand it's way too humid and on the other,way too cold.It's one of those dilemma things that bug me throughout the nights,and that is of course besides the thoughts that lingers in my head.Verses of songs ive heard,verses of songs in my head,random sentences that rhymes with some words,this and that,him and her,yada yada.

The worst part of all though,is not the fact that i cannot sleep.It's the dreams that i have when i finally do.I've been troubled by terrifying dreams,though they dont exactly have lasting effects on me after i wake up,but i vaguing remember the fear inside of me while i was in the dream world.I remember my palms all sweaty,my hands shivering as i closed the cupboard,afraid that somebody might find what i had inside of it.And the doll,the face of the doll,rotting and melting in my hands...

I think it was a gloomy afternoon,when that dream happened.Everything was in a strange shade of gray and blue,for some reason.I remember walking towards a cupboard in camp,and it was Kumaran's cupboard in reality.In my dream it was mine,and i opened it and looked into the dark shady cupboard.

Inside it was a box in the bottom right corner,and in the box piled on top of one another were junks i cannot remember.I remember i was desperately searching for something,but at that time i didnt know what it was.I threw the junks out one by one,and when i got to the bottom of it i startled and stepped back.I spunned around,to see if anybody was in the vicinity.Everybody was somewhere,not in the room.I took another peek,and i was so sure that i did it,though not sure when,why or how.I was convinced that i did it,the way the dead body of a little girl laid in the box,with her head chopped off.

There was no blood,or anything gory,but like a Barbie Doll without a head she sat there,with her body against the side of the box.I wanted to dispose the body,i remember.But where?I asked myself.I didnt know which part of the camp was secluded enough for me to dispose of the body.I was rather desperate then,and didnt think twice when i carried the body out of the box.

Just then,a little doll rolled out of her left hand.It was the doll of Willy Wonka,the one from the Chocolate Factory.I picked it up,and examined it in my hands for a while.It looked rather ordinary to me,and wondered if they had Willy Wonka Barbie dolls on sale.Then,when i was about to return the doll to the girl's palm,Willy Wonka's face started to rot,like that of a dead corpse.The rotting sped up,and his facial features decayed and turned green,revealing the skull below the skin now peeling away quickly.I screamed,and threw the doll back into the cupboard.The headless girl was before me now,still lifeless and dead.

I kept screaming,and screaming until i finally woke up in a puddle of sweat,glad that i was awake.Some dream that i had,i thought.