Don't Call Me Dead

10. The Sleeping Beauty

The first thing I see is the woman.

She's lying on a crude wooden bed by the far wall of a dark room. She's on her back, her eyes closed, a blanket thrown over her for warmth. Her face is pale and placid. Her fair curls, carefully brushed, lie arranged neatly on the pillow. Her chest goes up and down slowly. She's asleep. It's so strange to see someone alive and asleep after the cemetery I have just passed.

I lean forward and slip through the wall of earth and mud into the room.

Once inside, I stop to look around. The room is dark and messy. Dried roots and herbs hang from the ceiling. By one wall stands a wooden wardrobe, obviously handmade. The floor is covered with piles of things—clothes, rags, bags, books and what not. There's some approximation of a table next to the bed, made of a few short logs put together. A mix of hand-made and plastic spoons and plates pile on it, some of them still with remainders of food. A fly crawls inside one of the pots. It's a good thing I can't smell anything, because this place looks like it must stink.

I look the other way and jump with surprise. In the corner, there're three wooden crosses sticking out of the earthy floor. Each of them is made of two sticks tied together, something even a child could do, yet the way they stand somberly in a row makes them look nothing like a child's play.

I turn back to the woman and approach her bed. She looks familiar. I stare at her serene, beautiful face. I have seen her before. Many times. But where?

Then it hits me.

I saw her in the mirror.

I keep standing there, watching her in the growing light of the morning. There're circles under her eyes. My eyes. She looks tired, yet peaceful. Her chest goes up and down.

She's alive.

I'm alive.

I feel like crying. I knew that. I knew that I wasn't a ghost.

I reach out to touch her face—my face. My hand goes right through it. Her expression remains undisturbed.

Then, there's a noise behind me.

I turn around in time to see a pile of rags and clothes on the floor shift. The rags slide off and expose a man drawing himself into a sitting position. He stretches and yawns. The light from the window above his head makes it hard for me to distinguish his features, but I do see the smile on his lips when he looks at me.

"Hello, princess," he says.

I freeze. How could he see me? I'm still invisible.

He gets up and stretches some more. Then he walks over to me as I stand and stare in disbelief. Then, he walks right through me, leans over the woman and kisses her on the cheek. He didn't see me. He only sees...the other me.

"Morning," he says, removing the blanket. He turns the woman gently to her side. Her body is limp in his big hands, like a rad doll. "Had sweet dreams? Let's see if you need a diaper change, love."

I look over his shoulder and notice something I haven't noticed when the woman was lying on her back. Her huge belly.

She's pregnant.

I'm pregnant?

The man turns around, the light from the window falls on his face, and then, I remember everything.

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