All The Men I Have Danced With Are Dead

A Chapter

"A declaration of Aurora's memories, sometimes from before but not the present nor the past."

Aurora had woken up to the view of winter clouds robust with aged rain and the promise of nothing spectacular.

On Sundays, she aimed to sharpen her skills in the art of  "unproductivity" - so that even a shower proved contrary to the energy she allocated the day of the week.  Queuing the "new and popular" movies on Netflix and when hunger inevitably struck, she would rummage through her meagerly stocked fridge, searching for the bare minimum of ingredients required to whip up a passable meal. For Aurora, this was the pinnacle of achievement - a day spent doing as little as possible, and reveling in the satisfaction of absolute laziness.

Her "too nice" basement apartment was surprisingly quiet on that particular fourth Sunday of the new year. She lived below a landlord with an unusual number of grandchildren - who all seemed to make sport of tempting the fragile bindings of the wooden floors separating the layers of the house. 

Aurora sat on the edge of her U-shaped sofa in near-absolute silence. Nearly absolute - not for the low intermittent clicking sound that came from nowhere in particular - and must have been a hidden stipulation in the lease agreement since she never figured out its origin. Not that she fully noticed the silence or the clicking- or that she minded at all.  The only problem the silence brought with it was that when Aurora catches herself with only herself, she is forced to be with herself.

The U-shaped sofa, with its faded red cushions and worn armrests, faced the only window in the basement, which simultaneously served as the only door. Outside, the rain had begun to fall, each droplet creating a rhythmic pattering against the glass. Aurora sat on the edge of the sofa, her eyes transfixed on the window and her thoughts adrift. A small squirrel caught her attention, huddled in a corner outside the window. It trembled and made small noises, its twisted limb a painful reminder of the cruelty of the world. Aurora's heart ached as she watched, wondering if the animal was pleading for help or crying out in agony. She wondered for a stretched minute if it would be considered mercy to use the rake next to the animal to smash its head open, saving it from the cruelty of the world.

Instead... She ignored it and watched as the squirrel slowly faded away.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated the otherwise dark room, casting a flickering light on the walls as previews of Netflix shows danced across the screen. As the sun had completely disappeared from the sky, the room was plunged into near-complete darkness between each flash of light. During those fleeting moments of obscurity, Aurora would catch a glimpse of what it might be like to slip into nothingness, to cease to exist. The darkness was suffocating, almost tangible, and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to surrender to its embrace. But as the next advertisement dimly lit the room again, she was reminded of all the reasons why she could never give up. And so she remained, alone in her thoughts, in the dimly lit room, with the TV as her only company.

A usual position for her, lasting till some minutes before midnight, then she swallowed two sleeping pills, changed into her nightwear, and retired to her double bed.

Like most days it didn't take long for her to succumb to the drug-induced sleep.  But unlike most nights Aurora encountered monsters in her dream.

In this dream,

She was in her room, the same dimly moonlit room, with the same oak wood dresser she had won at an online auction. Everything seemed to be the same except that a man was sitting with perfect posture on her leaking bean bag chair at the right corner of her room.

Aurora didn't notice the figure at first, she was temporarily distracted by the shooting pain that stressed her right hand. She had slept on the limb, suspending its blood flow. She sat up,  scooted to rest her back on the wood headrest.  She stretched and punched her hand in the air aiming to relieve the sting. Her movements were stopped dead when she noticed the figure behind the shadow.