THE NIGHTMARE [Entry for writing contest by @averageoutsider]

It was not another morning, something told me something was going to happen but I did not know what. I wake up like every day at the same time and with the unique noise of my alarm clock. I sit on my large, comfortable bed, located in a large warm and bright room. A large window that shows the exterior in the form of a picture. I watch carefully that black spot that contrasts the white pillow, curves that appear in soft sheets, frozen in time, as a living statue without currency, tender, fragile, waiting for nothing or nobody.

She always in the same pose, immersed in a deep sleep and without any disturbance. Every morning he wakes up an hour later than me. When I wake up I watch her for a few minutes to take a picture of her and then I walk away from the room, down the hall and down the stairs with the peace of mind that everything is in order. I go in search of breakfast, that ritual prior to the rest of the day. Today something would happen, I had that feeling from the moment my body and my bed ceased to be a single object.

On the ground floor I see his wallet on top of the counter. I was open as inviting her. I'm not doing this but today everything is different. I approach and with guilt I check it. Letters from someone, a certain Ignacio. He was not a friend of the family or a friend of ours. I read carefully as I prepared for the worst. Words and phrases like daggers. I could not believe that I was in the presence of my deceit, the end of one relationship and the beginning of another. Every time it was harder to hold that paper in my hands, it was sharp and burned. What should I do? It was the only question that appeared to me, whose answer was not or did not want this.

I know myself, that was my biggest terror, my reaction might not be adequate but I did not care about anything anymore. It was so much pain that the heart does not think, and that scared me. I went to the bar in search of a drink that calmed me down but nothing was enough. At that very moment I hear a scream. It was her, she asked for help. He named me between tears and sighs. I ran hard to that endless staircase, to that interminable corridor, to that door that at that moment separated what no one could ever bear to see. His white body, lifeless, his eyes lost in a world of regrets, his mouth gesturing for forgiveness, his hands closed and helpless; everything was a language of my own that I knew how to decipher.

I was still there, like the last time I left, quiet and silent. Who was? What did she do to deserve this? This time there were other questions, whose answers I knew.

I sit in my bed, I look at her and I could not understand. I lie down without knowing what to do and fall asleep deeply looking for the cure of all the pain. When I woke up everything had changed: my room was no longer spacious or warm and bright, the bed was no longer large and comfortable; everything seemed like a dream. And when suddenly I see that my window is no longer a painting and that it was replaced by vertical bars from floor to ceiling, like a cage with no exit. I realized that it was not a dream but rather the beginning of my nightmare.