A Dreamlike Day

Witnessing the lenghts at which a friend goes to escape what he thinks is merely a dream is a frightening experience, especially when he is mistaken.

The day was engulfed in a sort of mad haze. I looked up, and freed at last a flock of colorful balloons took to the sky. I remember then, everyone looked up in awe, a little kid started crying and as I looked back down I saw him. My friend. We hadn't seen each others for years now, yet we knew that the mere passage of time was of no concern to our friendship. I saw him, but he didn't. He was still gazing up, following the balloons in their quest for freedom. He had dark cicrles under his eyes, and was fiddling with his fingers. I walked up to him and brought him back down to reality, or so I thought. He looked at me, frightened, and mumbled some words I couldn't understand. I thought, What's up with him?

He began walking away, toward the stadium, and I figured that perhaps the festival was getting on his nerves, and that perhaps he didn't get proper sleep last night. He looked so confused, it was jarring. I asked him if he wished to sit down and just talk for a bit, you know, to catch up, but he didn't seem to mind me. He was looking left and right, and avoiding everyone's eyes. I followed him.

Around us the festival grew louder, as we approached the stadium. The music was all around, a cacophony, and I could tell my friend was getting sick of it. The shops and attractions all around us turned to a caleidoscope as we hurried, faster and faster, toward the stadium. There was to be a game later today, and I realized that perhaps my friend wanted to secure good seats, before we could properly catch up. I guess. I supposed I just wanted to make sense of his behavior, of how odd he was being.

The heat of the day fell onto me, us, as we made it at last to the stadium's entrance. I was laughing, I couldn't help it. My friend turned to me, and looked away to the left. I followed his gaze and over there amidst the crowd, a clown, looking at us. The wind rose and I felt goosebumps all over. My friend looked back at me. He was terrified! He took me by the arm and we hurried inside the stadium, walking along the concrete corridor and halfway up the concrete stairs, lit up by white blinding lights. My friend looked at me, a serious look on his face, but I could only notice his big black pupils, so dilated, despite the lights. He spoke his first coherant words to me :

- Do you remember those bad dreams I used to have? The one where I was being chased down by a monster in a dark hallway?

Of course I remembered. He was my closest friend, and no matter how weird our conversations were, I always listened. I told him so.

- And you remember how I would manage to wake up? To escape those bad dreams? How I always managed to wake up at last-

I looked at him in silence. Where was he going with this? I heard footseps behind us, and my friend's face went blank, livid. He quickly looked at me and ran up the stairs, his hurried steps echoing in the stadium's innards. I turned around, and of course the ominous clown was standing there, looking at me, holding his arms up in confusion. I noticed in his hand, a wallet. I walked up to him, and through his clown makeup I could see his face.

- Hey I gotta get back to work, but here, your friend's wallet. I saw him drop it at the entrance.

He shook his head, piercing me with his eyes, the seriousness of his face being all the more impactful, him being a clown.

- Take care of your friend, he doesn't seem right.

I thanked him, and made my way upstairs, looking for my friend. On the stadium there were already so many people filling the seats, all looking at the empty field, snacking on hot dogs and filling themselves with beer. The air was thick, and there were no clouds in the sky, only a massive sun pushing down on us. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and looked around. Up here we were several floors above the ground. Next to the stadium's railings stood my friend, looking up at the sky once more. I ran up to him, his wallet in my hand, and as I called his name he turned around to me.

On his face I could see it, torment. He looked at me helplessly, and pointed up at the sky, where the same flock of balloons were, still going up. He saw the wallet in my hand and walked back. His face collapsed, and I was struck by fear. He climbed on the railings, and still looking at me, he let himself fall down.

I ran up to the railings, and saw him down there a few meters down. He was injured, yet he crawled his way to the other railing. I looked in disbelief as he climbed over it, catched my eyes and let himself fall down the rest of the way, all the way down to the playing field, twenty meters down or more.

I stood there. I stood there, still holding my friend's wallet in my hand, and I looked up the balloons high up there in the sky. Was my friend dreaming?

Am I dreaming?