The apartment is on the fifth
floor, fifty feet above the ground, more or less. It has a terrace
that overlooks most of the city except where high-rises block the
view, but it is of little use since Gary almost never ventures out
into the terrace. Almost never, anyway. Sometimes he does, or,
more accurately, tries. His parents never think it odd that they
never see him on the terrace. In fact, they never think anything
about it at all, being all absorbed in their own lives. Gary thinks
about it all the time though. He wants to go there and enjoy the
view. But he can’t. Because he is afraid of heights.
Just thinking about it makes
his stomach flip over and over, his intestines wringing themselves
at the same time, if it were possible. Once in a while, he gets the
courage to get out there and see if maybe he’s not scared of being
there - fifty feet above the ground - anymore. The moment that he
sets foot on the terrace, though, he could literally feel his balls
drawing closer to his body, almost painfully, and if he has a tail,
it would have been between his legs in a blink of an eye. Breathing
becomes difficult once he’s there, and his heart, man, it’s like it
has taken over his whole body! He doesn’t want to feel that way
tens of feet above the ground, but he does anyway.
Only a door separates Gary
from the terrace now. It is one of those days when he wakes up and
finds himself wanting to venture out into the terrace, sort of like
trying his own self. Maybe, you know, just maybe, he could stand
looking down at the streets below for a few minutes. He has been
nervous through school from morning to afternoon, and he finds the
conflicting emotions funny. He has courage, but he is nervous.
Really screwed. He puts a hand on the knob, draws a deep breath,
and opens the door. Sunlight greets him, and the polluted breeze
kisses his face. He couldn’t see the ground below yet, but he never
forgets that it’s down there, almost fifty feet from where he is.
He puts one foot forward and
takes a deep breath. Another step and another deep breath, so far,
so good. He finally has his hands on the rails, but his knees are
shaking. Still, he keeps his eyes ahead, looking at the city. He
takes another step, and he feels the cold rail on his stomach.
Nothing. Only his knees are shaking. His eyes gradually lower
down. Fifty feet, forty, thirty, ten, and his eyes are finally on
the street. The street! His heart speeds up at the realization.
He could actually see the people, the cars, trees, the street. His
eyes are on the street from the terrace, fifty feet above the
ground, and it’s the first time that he could remember doing it.
Suddenly, his eyes are jolted
to the sidewalk directly below him, more correctly, to a guy
standing on the sidewalk directly below him. The guy is just
standing there, looking up at him with his hands in his pockets,
while people pass him by. Gary’s eyes are sucked into the guy’s
black eyes, never mind if it couldn’t be possible from a fifty-foot
distance. His knees also have stopped shaking. There is this
sudden peace that rushed through him as he stares into the guy’s
eyes. And when the guy smiles at him, a warm feeling spreads inside
his body.
That’s when the weirdness
starts. Gary makes a sudden intake of breath as he feels something
pull him down to the ground, kind of like riding a fast elevator
downwards. He leans his body on the rails to steady himself, but
for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes from the guy. Then,
another weirdness. There is something in the guy’s eyes; Gary can
see it. It is... him. Him! Gary can see himself in the guy’s eyes
as he throws a leg over the railings. His other leg follows, and he
jumps from the terrace down to the street and towards the guy. He
feels the wind as he slices through it. Gary is almost there,
almost kissing the ground. He closes his eyes for the few seconds
that it will take his body to reach the ground.
And he jumps.
He jumps back from the rails
and tears his eyes from the guy. What the hell has just happened?
He looks around and reassures himself that he is still on the
terrace and that he has not jumped to his death. He breathes a sigh
of relief and is about to turn back into the house when a touch on
his shoulder spins him around. His heart nearly explodes at the
shock, but there is no one behind him. It could be foolishness -
Gary doesn’t know - but he inches towards the rails again. And
looks down. He looks down, and the guy is still down there, looking
up at him. The guy raises a hand upwards, as if to beckon Gary to
come to him. Gary feels his shaking knees come back with a
vengeance. He is paralyzed, hugging the railings with his arms, his
eyes glued on the guy below. He sees the guy move his mouth, but he
doesn’t hear the word through his ears. The voice is inside his
head. Come. Gary’s heart thunders inside his chest, and he
jumps back from the railings again. He turns to run for the door,
but he does not make it.
Right in front of him is the
guy from the street, his red lips smiling sweetly and showing his
white teeth. Gary cringes away from him, trembling and feeling a
hammer pounding inside his chest. The guy steps towards him and
smiles again. His mouth moves, but it is in his head that Gary
hears his voice. I told you to come to me. Gary couldn’t
move nor talk; he is paralyzed and quaking with fear. Breathing is
difficult. The guy closes the distance between them, puts both of
his hands under Gary’s armpits, and hoists him over the railings.
Gary’s eyes widen as he
realizes what has happened. The guy has pushed him over the
railings. He is falling down to the ground fast. He is... going to
die. A single heartbeat shakes him from his thoughts, and he
realizes that the guy is far smaller in his vision now than a
heartbeat ago. He screams at the realization that he is almost
there, almost dead. No flashbacks of any sort, only his screams and
for some reason, he couldn’t stop screaming even when his lungs has
run out of air. He is going to die soon, and he knows it but he
doesn’t want to, yet. So he screams.
And that is how he wakes up -
screaming.
He keeps on screaming until
his parents are on both sides of his bed, shaking him, and he
realizes that he is on his bed, in his room. He is not falling down
from the terrace to the ground. He is not dead.
The dream - nightmare - has
been on Gary’s mind the whole day. Dreams have meanings, he has
always thought, so he wonders what it means, as scary as it is.
That guy, ghost-like white skin, red lips, and black hair and eyes,
he looks like a male Snow White. Gary shudders, remembering what
the guy did to him. No, it is time to forget about it.
The bus drops Gary off right
in front of the building where their apartment is. Just before
entering the building, he takes a glance at the terrace on the fifth
floor. His eyes bulge out of their sockets, and he sucks a deep,
ragged breath. He feels a sudden jolt inside his chest as his hands
start to shake. He suddenly wishes he hadn’t looked up. Looking
back at him from the terrace with a sweet smile on his face is the
guy from his nightmare, and Gary freezes as he hears a voice inside
his head. I told you to come to me.
Is it really just a dream?
Gary doesn’t know, and he
doesn’t care. All he knows is he would never set foot on the
terrace again, or any place where he would be able to see the ground
below.
