The Premises of an Ideal Life and Additional Poetry

Chapter 1

It is pitch-black inside. The room is large, with bats sleeping on the ceiling and spiders covering the floor with their sticky webs. A short girl finds herself standing in the middle of the room, with the traits of a young adult, contrasting with the filthy black dress she’s wearing, shredded at the bottom. Whispers can be heard, coming from what seems to be spectrals of dead and mouthless people. The tick tock of clocks start making the girl’s head spin and the walls painted in crimson blood makes her incapable of moving.
Regaining consciousness, the young woman tries to concentrate on bringing one foot after another, anxious to know where she is. Her stomach begs for some food, making rumbling sounds, mouth watering as she pictures a big plate full of rice and beans. She then starts to pace at the same place, irritation pouring from the corners of her mouth, as she attempts to get out of the room. However, the ghosts start to grab her clothes and to clutch her hands. She then realises that leaving wouldn’t be as easy as she had hoped for and desperately tries to reach for the door handle, but it is useless, they will not let her go.
As a warm breeze brushes the girl’s garments, the spectrals seize to snatch her and they leave, passing with no effort through the four concrete walls. The young woman’s spirit is spiked with concern as to where finds herself.
After a while seated on the freezing floor, she hears a squeaky sound and realizes there is a nasty rat just a few inches away from her. She has never minded snakes, rats and cockroaches as most of the girls usually do; however, what catches her eye is the fact that he is wounded, his right leg torn from inside out and a head slightly smashed. The demoralised girl wonders if the spectrals might have hurt him and whether they will come back and do the same thing to her.
Her hands become more and more undistinguishable, translucent even, as time passes. More than ever, she tries to remember how long she’s been here; 1, 2, maybe 4 hours? Pieces of memory start to come back and what is formed is the recollection of a distant voice of a doctor saying that the car had struck her body in such a force that they weren't able to do anything else. Why would someone say that though?
The girl’s toes instantly start shaking as she struggles to find an answer, her feet tap the floor in an uncontrollable way, eyes becoming hazier and hazier with tears in a matter of seconds. Sobs and hateful cries make her throat sore as she realizes she’s nowhere.
She 's dead.
The girl’s legs succumb under her and visions of her mother, friends, and relatives make her choke.
The fact that she’ll never be able to bid a last farewell to her loved ones is too frustrating to cope with. Regardless, what most exasperates the inexperienced girl is the knowledge of every bad thing she could have opted to not do, all the misbehavior and rudeness she can’t correct anymore, the desire to make amends with people she has hurt. Her head starts aching, but not because of the haunting sounds of the ghosts far away, but for regret.
The rat that was lying on the floor has now taken his final breath and the girl’s despaired soul tries to reach for him, amidst her desperation for company. As soon as the harmless animal is taken to the girl’s palm, he evaporates right in front of her.
She feels lost. The only hope for consolation is extinguished and taken from her, so she starts shaking even harder on the freezing floor; smelling the death and stinking bodies of the ghosts returning. The dreaded moment has come.
Faithless, she calls for help and shuts her eyes so hard, pressing the eyelashes and waiting for them to strike.
They never come.
As the convulsing girl opens them, she sees the thin silhouette of an older woman, whose hand warms hers. The woman’s long brown hair cascades on her shoulders, reminding the girl that it’s her mom. The image is all wheezy- probably because of all the medications she’s taken- as she attempts to straighten the vision of the elderly’s wet cheeks. The girl can just think of how she’ll make it worth this time. How she’ll try to excel in behavior and be more superior in heart and… her thoughts are already off the rails. The young woman’s head feels cheesy and stumbles to the side. The last thing she hears is the caring and superfluous voice of her mother whispering: Aria.
The room becomes dark again.