I had the urge to pee so I walked to the toilet. As I was peeing, I felt light headed, it was like a vertigo effect. I exited the toilet and found myself in a twin otter. ‘They don’t have toilets’. I thought to myself. I looked but the toilet door wasn’t there anymore. In that moment I got a glimpse of the pilot about to jump off, I ran quickly and clung onto him. We both fell out of the plane but my grip wasn’t strong enough to hold on–
I was falling
My legs were suspended
No control, I was struggling
To grip on to the clouds
They evaded me effortlessly
The wind suspected
And pushed me further down
To show its strength
the clouds were on a rampage
As each one I came across
Even more mean and aggressive
Than the previously encountered
I felt like I had wronged the gods
And they would stop at nothing
To see me descend helplessly
Making sure I felt unwanted
Now earth was within my view
I had accepted my fate, just then
I fell hard but felt something rough and wood-like
My eyes opened, heart racing, but extremely sleepy.
I noticed I was standing on a surface but felt unstable and rocky. I looked around and for some weird reason, I had cast a big net that was already full. The steady and strong pull power of the fish was what made me lose my balance. It occurred to me that I was a skilled fisherman. The way I cast the net and had all the other fishermen watching me in awe showed how good I was at it. My net was so full that I needed the help of other fishermen. They rendered their help hesitantly because they had been fruitless in their attempts. All the fishes couldn’t fit in my boat so I shared them amongst the men that helped me. They gave me a horrid look, mixed with jealousy and disbelief. I was too ecstatic and full of positivity to have paid them any mind. It was another successful day at sea for me. I had packed all my fishing tools ready to leave when one of the men shouted “voodoo! He fishes with black magic” and the rest uttered words in agreement. “It is prohibited to use voodoo around here, he must be prosecuted” said one of the other fishermen. They seized my tools and took me to the king in my own boat. The whole village had no land, looked like I was in Giethoorn. The canals functioned as roads and the traffic of boats and canoes very well organised. Only that it seemed I had travelled back in time as things were less advanced. The way the other fishermen thought baffled me but I was still incredibly calm. We finally got to the king’s house, it was built in gold plated zinc. My case was brought forward for him to judge but I still remained calm, almost too confident I had nothing to worry about. The fishermen made their claims but exaggerated it a lot. One of them lied that he heard me chanting strange words. All this to make their accusation believable. I remained calm until I heard one of the fishermen say the penalty for the use of voodoo was death by drowning. My heart felt like a rabbit was doing the bunny hop inside. I started sweating, my mouth went dry, I found it hard to breathe as my chest felt tight. All that was going through my mind is how hopelessness is a similar feeling to death, my body had given up already. The king finally gave his verdict. My ears had stopped working, I could barely hear what he said, but I could tell from the excitement on their faces. They tied my hands and legs almost immediately. It was like experiencing the brutality of the Salem witch trials but they chose water instead of fire. I thought of ways I could save myself while underwater. The fisherman that lied about hearing me chant brought out a heavy chain and suggested they use it to make sure I couldn’t float back up. He had a big grin, almost proud as if he had discovered a new invention that would aid humanity. “He must see himself as Einstein” I thought to myself. I smiled briefly, even in the face of death, I hadn’t lost my sense of humour. At this point my attention was drawn to reality by a big splashing sound as my body hit the water. I quickly descended to the bottom of the ocean, struggling to breathe and move. My legs felt like they were paralysed, my chest felt like a fountain with the water seeping into my mouth, slowly filling my lungs. My body was like a virgin land filled with minerals but forcefully taken over by this new colonial master. I begged helplessly in my heart but this colonial master wasn’t ready to negotiate, it dominated every part of my body leaving nothing untouched. It was my last few seconds, I could feel my soul transcending to another realm, my eyes opened and I found myself drenched in my own sweat. I made a stupid mistake by sleeping in my sweatshirt and sweatpants.
I stood up and walked out of my room, only to see that my house is in the middle of the Amazon. My curious self decided to take a walk, still puzzled by the fact that my house had literally moved. I took about four steps before I looked back and saw that the house was non-existent. Now it was just me in the middle of the forest. I was left confused but I started hearing voices not far from where I was standing. I decided to pry and see what it was. Roughly twelve feet from where I was standing, I could see a primitive tribe carrying a helpless black woman ceremoniously. No they weren’t celebrating her, they seemed like cannibals happy to have found a meal. Something prompted me to act as her saviour. I was holding a log of wood, I thought to myself I could use it to beat the four primitive men and rescue the distressed woman. It played out perfectly in my head. I slowly crept behind the men as they carried her. At last I caught up to them and hit the last man as hard as I could. I was sure he would drop dead or enter a coma at least. He turned and smiled at me as if I hadn’t just hit him hard. Just then I looked at my hand and I was actually holding a frail tree branch. It felt like suicide as soon as I realised what I had done. But how did the log of wood change? I asked myself. I felt a hard bang on the back of my head and blacked out instantly. When I eventually opened my eyes I saw these creatures feasting on the already barbecued woman. I was tied and kept aside as if they had no intentions of eating me. They ate and danced happily and thanked their gods for giving them multiple blessings in a day. Next to where I was tied, I saw two men digging hastily, like time wasn’t on their side. This made me worry because the speed at which they were digging made them seem supernatural. In no time they had dug a hole that was six-feet deep. I thought to myself maybe they had lost someone and were making plans for a burial. In that moment they approached me and without saying anything pushed me to the edge of the grave. They chanted and sang praises as they looked down to the earth as opposed to the heavens. Praying and begging their gods to take me as a worthy sacrifice. It dawned on me that maybe they only feast on females. At this point, I thought back to the moment when I decided to be a hero. I felt stupid again, I could have avoided all of this if I didn’t try to act like an action figure. A part of me felt sorry for the lady, I couldn’t be her black knight in shining armour. It was probably prompted by the patriarchal mind-set deeply rooted in my subconscious. They shoved me into the grave and began filling it up with that same tremendous speed. I was meant to focus on not dying but I was in awe of their speed instead. It got to the point I couldn’t move or see anything. It occurred to me that I wasn’t going to make it out of this one. Again, I gave up totally letting myself go.
The most powerful thing I could do at this point was to wake up. I was stuck/struggling to move under my blanket because I had mistakenly wrapped myself in it. I stood up from my bed and walked around the house to be sure I wasn’t dreaming yet again. I felt some sense of sovereignty over my body. I didn’t fall, I wasn’t drowning and I’m definitely not buried seeing as I was standing six feet tall. I felt more powerful than I had ever been knowing I was in full control of this body. They say perfect things comes in threes. My nightmare is the only thing in my life that isn’t flawed. I guess that’s the good part of it.