A glimpse of curly black hair that brushes my face up to my forehead alerted me to be fully awake as I catch my every breath. With my hazy eyes, I look at my feet trying to move my toes as a new wake up habit, only to realize my shirt hitched up exposing my belly button. An instinct to rub my tummy with my sweat-soaked palm while trying to search for any buried marks. As I can recall, someone tried to bury her pointer finger on my belly as my five months precious one kicks inside. I gently tried to rise up and sat on my bed while cold sweat still damps at my back, staring aimlessly to the wall to recollect everything to sink in my head. Another bad dream.
The broad daylight from the window hit me back to the reality that after sundown, I need to go to work. I bow down helplessly and sigh. I'm just new to my job, a kind of job that an introvert wannabe like me takes time to fit in. I can't help to fidget my trembling fingers on my shirt's neckline while still in a heavy breath. In dismay, I toughly bit my thumb to be calmed and give myself a reason to cry from the pain it gives. I'm not pressured to my job but the people itself, it's draining. My knees voluntarily bend up to level my chest offering themselves for me to hug. My short slip down on my thigh revealing a bruise on my left knee, confuse while gently pressing my finger on the dark spot while trying to recall where the hell did I get this bruise. Well, I can remember that I rise from bed to give pleasure to my thirst with water but I can't remember I hit anything on my knee. So I concluded, maybe I sleepwalked.
I'm still not in a mood to revive my soul so I let my bed catch again the burden of my body just to face the ceiling. I'm gonna be a Mom, how to be a Mom, how could I tell my Mom, I feel numb. I reach for my phone in an attempt to distract myself, seeking any updates about our shift for tonight but a memory of that black fabric or black thick smoke that floats above me cross my mind. It happens to me a lot of times and I consider it normal but it gets more often these past few weeks. Random nightmares.
They were times a black blanket-like crash in me wrapping its weight on my whole body as if claiming and consuming my soul as it wraps me tighter. I'm aware that I'm just dreaming but I can't convince my body to move my toes. I desperately want to scream but this long curly black hair that I assume it's from a woman's keeps brushing my face as if cradling me to deeper sleep. My precious five months on my belly kicks and that pinches my mind to wake up. Wake up to reality.
My phone rang alarming me to groom myself because I still have two hours left before my shift, two hours left to be with the crowd, and random calls siphoning my soul during the night. The fact that I must uplift and adjust my personality for that job because it doesn't come out from me naturally, to talk to strangers. My baby keeps kicking and I can feel the pressure on my temples, I feel sorry for my son to be, I'm worried all at once. My thoughts getting tangled in my head and the first thing I can think of is my razor blade. Where did I put that? Maybe under my bed, maybe at the back of my phone or I used it as a bookmark. I keep searching as the pain in my head getting worse, my wrist badly craves to be engraved by a razor blade but where in hell's name did I put that! I keep smashing and crashing everything that my hand can reach while biting my lips in an urge to scream. I pulled my hair to reduce the tension but it won't help. Where did I put that!
I lean on the wall and slide myself down to sit on the floor, awfully looking around my room, what a mess. I spend a moment hugging my knees as teardrops fall as a voiceless companion. A knock on my door from my workmate commanding me to get ready for our graveyard shift but I didn't dare to answer. It's already 6 pm and the night slowly conquering my room from the window, soon darkness will win, just like to myself. Dull lazy and black.