Fleeting Visions [A Collection of Original Short Stories]

Echoes of a Jounaling Past

Dear Journal,

Just now, I had a strange, vivid dream; strange as if... it felt so real.

Amidst the blazing peak of yesterday, I went to the local library to find something to read. I remember saying to myself, "Time to seek a new life to explore," as if I've been living in a lingering 'post-apocalyptic' world. I do not mind it though, since I'm already accustomed to its seemingly everlasting presence in my mind.

I scavenged each shelf searching for a habitable area to relive in - I went from romance, fantasy, comedy, and even horror, yet I haven't found any interesting places to embark on. I was about to give up and call it a day, but something had urged me to course through the section I had agreed upon myself not to set foot in - 'slice of life'. It's not that I'm not fond of it; I'm just... scared that I wouldn't feel comfortable with its final destination. Nonetheless, I had successfully forced myself to take a slight peek at some of its collections and had managed to pick one out randomly.

Upon arriving home, I swiftly did my post-household chores, changed into my pajamas, and nestled within the comfort of my pretty ugly futon that I got as a gift for my 7th birthday. (P.S. I still love it!)

I didn't bother to eat dinner that time, no one's going to go out of their way to scold me anyway heartwarmingly. I just latched upon my newly borrowed book and read through some chapters before bed.

Through the course of my slumber, I was somewhat awakened by a familiar yet peculiar sensation, something that I wouldn't feel within the presence of my futon - even my whole bedroom at that. Upon waking my eyes, I immediately realized the brain-puzzling situation that was suddenly bestowed upon me.

My mind kept on rummaging through its drawers, looking for a plausible reason as to how I got into this unfamiliar meadow yet nothing.

I remember seeing a small yet intact nipa hut nearby. I slowly crept to the front door, hoping not to surprise the possibly zizzing residents. I was about to knock until I heard a sharp cry in which I was abruptly stunned. Instead, I carefully searched for the window where the heartful sound emanated.

There, by a dusty futon, I saw a young man in his 20's. He seemed severely exhausted. Around him are two other people, a man and a woman in their 50s. Their eyes were kind of blurry, but I did see their lips smiling while talking to the young man. I felt like I was a forbidden spectator in a tragic comedy.

After the two left, the young man was alone in the ghost-quiet room. Before, he had a dark aura emanating around his face. Now, all I see are light with his despairingly smiling lips. My knowledge of that time was wonky, yet I remember him saying, "Lord, thank you for this shortcake life. I will treasure this forever." His face was getting blurry as well.

Within seconds, as I heard another cry from the distance, he was suddenly engulfed by darkness. What's worse was that... it was slowly approaching me. I was running furiously despite its difficulty, and my vision was getting blurry as well - I blacked out.

I was finally awakened from that heavenly nightmare and sat up. My pillows were all soaking in deep sweat. I was back in my humble space, yet why did I feel like someone was here with me?

Now that I think of it, doesn't the book's cover look quite similar to the meadow?