Corridor of Memories

The last I remember is the feeling of the soft pillow beneath my head and my eyes closing. The day was like any other day. I woke up, had breakfast, went to work, came home for dinner and watched some TV before the hour turned late. Yet, tonight was not like any other night.

I remember it clearly, the soft fluff of the pillow and warmth of my covers and yet why am I standing in this stone cold corridor? Perhaps I am being punished? Perhaps this is all a nightmare?

I turn left and right but there are nothing but doors all around me, 5 in total. There is one ahead and behind me, two on the left and one on the right. The corridor itself isn't that small so there is enough room to pace around. I’m actually grateful for that as these types of situations had always jumbled my nerves. I need to pace to think and assert my situation, but in the end I have nothing left to do but try a door or wait till I wake up … if I wake up. No! This clearly must be a dream. But wait as I may until it feels like hours and nothing moves nor utters a word. In the end I have to make the first move. As such, I come close to the door to my right. It was an ordinary mahogany door, but something about the way it was all alone made me chose it.

I opened the door to be met with a vision of my past. Yes, I remember it well, but not with joyful feelings in my heart. It was a time when I was small. It was a time when I was in elementary school.  The memory was short. I was playing with my best friend, rich best friend. Back then I was pretty obsessed with toys and always wanted everything I saw on TV. The latest toys were the coolest in my book and this particular friend had one I wanted. I could see the vision now of myself taking the toy without the knowledge of my friend. I was so happy back then, but now it was nothing to be proud of. Even if I was just a kid back then, I remember that I kept on taking small tidbits that he would never notice. The vision soon faded and I was standing back in the corridor. The only difference now was that the door on the right had disappeared.

I proceeded with the next door. It was the one of the doors on the left side. This time it was a pure white door with some golden designs. Upon opening it I realized I was met with another memory. It was back in my high school days, late high school days. Back when I first started high school I was pretty hyped on making a change and doing something different, but it was the later years that got to me and soon my view changed. Once I grew up enough I began feeling like high school was pretty much optional to me. It never felt like I belonged, nor did it feel like I could use the information they tried to teach me. I began going less and less and doing my work less and less. I was lazy and spent most of my day watching TV. If it was at least something productive, It wouldn't have been such a sad sight, but I spent most of my years pretending like it was no big deal. I had even forgotten about my chores. I was pretty much what people call a couch potato. Soon the vision faded. I had still no clue as to the purpose of these visions. The mere fact that it was so random could only be proof that this was some type of dream.

I had to go through with this if I wanted to wake up sooner so I took the immediate door next to it. The image that formed before my eyes was that of the days of summer in my elementary years. Back when summer break came knocking, I always went to the mountain cabin to spend some time with relatives. I always played around with my cousins. They were lucky, at least I thought they were, as they had it all. They would visit exotic places, have all the clothes they wanted and latest hardware and they were praised. Even my own parents looked at them with high regards. Yes, during those fun times, I remember the feelings of envy I couldn't shake off.
Only two doors were left and I chose the one in the back first. Oh was this one interesting. In this case it was not just one time period but images across more years. Images of my outbursts. I used to have this bad habit of getting angry each time I was scolded or something did not go my way. Angry enough that I would let my rage get the best of me. Images of me punching furniture, breaking pens and pencils in half out of anger, hitting myself, it was all to calm me down. By the end of it, I would feel more relaxed and part of the anger passed away, but the results let a bitter taste.

The last door. By the way things have progresses this far, it was no guessing game what I would see. More images of my past. For what purpose? This I’m sure I was suppose to find out by myself at the end of it all. And so the last door, a gold with black linings, opened up to one of my happier moments. Ah yes, that moment in high school when I was praised among all the others. Oh! It had changed to a glimpse of my first year of college. It was another moment where I was praised among all my colleagues. Those moments were something I was proud of and still am. It was me that they decided to praise out of all the students and it was me that got to feel like I was one step up from everyone else. I felt special. I closed my eyes to relinquish in the joy and opened them. How peculiar. I was back in my bed, looking up at the ceiling in my room. How strange for I did not feel like I had woken up. In fact my body felt as If it was still standing in the middle of my memories. There were no sudden movement, no feeling as if the floor went away from my feet, but here I was.

I must admit that it did not end at all like I had imagined. I always believed dreams came with a purpose, but except for the fact that this one was a recall of my childhood and teenage hood, I did not see the silver lining at the end or the revelation. Perhaps I did not think carefully enough or perhaps the dream did not finish and I woke up too soon. Ah yes, there were times when I dreamt in two parts or times where I woke up faster than another. Reoccurring dreams … I’m sure this would be one of it. I turned to the nightstand and noticed a flashing light on my cellphone. Apparently I had received a message.

I opened the inbox and peeked in to see it was a text from my girlfriend. It was not something I would discuss in public. Apparently she had sent me this before I went to bed, but had not noticed. I guess she was in that ‘mood’ again, but looking at the clock now – which was 3 AM - I doubt she would be up. Best not risk it and upset her husband. Oh did I not mention it? She was married. But I did not mind. She preferred her time with me than that with her husband, said it was more exciting, and I took advantage of it. It was quite enjoyable and there were no strings attached.  Was it the logic or the lust talking, I couldn’t really tell. I always had a dislike for formalities and imposed traditions.

With a heavy sigh I closed my eyes once more to drift off to sleep, still pondering on the dream. I did try to think up of something I could learn, but it was a mixed message. There was good, there was bad and there were moments I did not really care for anymore. I knew for sure that I would see that corridor once more and perhaps more doors would take place of the old ones, each with a new design, each with a new scene. Perhaps I would see it before my time. I still have plenty of occasions to dream after all.

Now if only not to forget that doctor's appointment tomorrow...