Life-sight

This man, who's my father, is in hospital, even though I’ve never seen him before. He looks exhausted and ill, nothing like how he used to be. When did it all start? He doesn’t stay awake long when I come to visit. I don’t think he likes me seeing him like this. He says “you shouldn’t be coming here to see me all the time. I’ll be fine by next week, just watch”, even though he never is. I wish other people would come. It would really take the pressure off. I wouldn’t have to come every day. He’d be heartbroken if I didn’t show up one day. He wouldn’t say anything though.

Now I’m in a chair and I’m talking to someone. He’s asking me personal questions that I don’t really want to answer. He looks concerned, as if my face is slowly melting. I’m telling him about memories that I can’t remember happening, with people I don’t recognise. He keeps writing stuff down, making these things I don’t want to remember a material thing that I don’t want to exist. I want to take it from him, but I know I can’t. I don’t even like this man and he certainly doesn’t care about me. But maybe he can help me, I haven’t been going here for long, so it’s hard to see a difference. 

Now I’m home, although I don’t remember the journey here. My food is cold and there’s a kid tugging at my sleeve. It’s her bedtime, but I want to finish my food before putting her to sleep, but then I can’t eat in peace. I have to let my food get colder and wait for her to fall asleep. Her dad is watching the tv. I’m not sure if he notices that I’m here. I go to bed early, dreading something but I’m not sure what.

Then I wake up. I always wake up with a racing heart even though it’s just the same nightmare. Just a nightmare of someone else’s life. They change a bit every day, but it’s mostly the same. I thought I’d be used to them by now. I want to believe she’s not a real person, but everything seems too real for it to be fake. I wonder who she is. Poor girl.

“You were talking in your sleep again last night.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know. I’m just saying. You were groaning a lot.”

“I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“It’s fine. It’s funny sometimes. The stuff you say. Same dream?”

“Yep. Every night, Jay. Every. Night.”

“Go see like a therapist about it. Maybe you have some unknown trauma.”

“I can’t afford a therapist. And what if send me to a mental hospital. The woman who dreams of a shittier version of her own life, thinks she’s seeing through someone else’s eyes. Doesn’t sound too great does it?”

“Maybe not.”

“I gotta catch the bus. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

The office is busy again as usual. There’s a big meeting today so all the important people are stressing over it. It’s kinda nice in a way being non-important. I don’t have to worry about that stuff. But then the extra money would be nice. I could get a car, and go abroad. Maybe I would’ve gotten that promotion if Sara hadn’t. I swear it was between me and her. I can’t blame them for choosing her over me though. She works a lot harder than I do, which isn’t particularly hard I suppose. Well, people like her more anyway. She’s walking over here now, looking so important. I bet she bought that coffee just for the look. You can’t go into a meeting without carrying something, I’ve noticed that. It seems most people choose coffee.

“Hi, Chelsea.”

“Hi.”

And then of course she trips and spills coffee all over me.

“Oh my God. I’m so so sorry. Oh my God.”

“Why would you do that! What’s wrong with you”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go get some tissue.”

“What’s tissue going to do?”

But she walks away anyway. I don’t have a spare top, so I’m going to have to sit with this damp stain on me all day. I can’t afford to buy another top for no reason. Will they make me? Maybe they’ll be too distracted by their meeting. I see Sara coming back with a handful of tissues.

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

I dab at the stain but it obviously isn’t doing much.

“I’m really sorry.”

“They’re going to make me buy a new one.”

“I’m sorry. I can go grab one quickly?”

“You have that meeting. I’ll have to go now before someone sees me.

“They might not notice it.”

But I grab my stuff and leave anyway. I wonder where’s the cheapest place I can get a new blouse from. Maybe a charity shop will sell one, hopefully, one without a stain. What a shit day. 

He’s not talking to me much tonight. I think he’s really tired. I’ve barely said anything over the past hour, but I couldn’t leave any earlier. I have to stay here at least an hour every night. I have to. Imagine being alone all day by yourself, except one hour where you’re both too tired to even talk. I tell him I’m leaving and all he does is nod. I think he’s already falling asleep. A nurse talks to me explaining what they’re going to do next. I hope it works. I want him back.

Now I’m walking into a familiar looking office. I’ve been here before. I know this place. Everyone’s wishing me good luck, but I’m not sure why. I walk around until I spill a cup of coffee on someone. Which is me. It’s not really nice seeing you act like that from someone else’s view. I run into the bathroom and wipe away some tears, and come back acting completely fine.

I’m talking to the same man again. I told him about spilling coffee on a coworker and about my father in the hospital. He has that same concerned look on his face. He doesn’t really say a lot. I do most of the talking and he does most of the nodding. How long before he starts being useful? I can’t keep coming here. It’s too exhausting. 

When I get home I realised that I forgot to prepare food, so I start doing that. My husband doesn’t ask me how my day was. I thought he would considering I had that meeting. My daughter is actually in bed for once. I don’t go up to check in case I wake her. I sit and watch TV in silence. My husband falls asleep on the sofa before coming up to bed, so I sleep alone.

I wake up, feeling more dreadful than usual. I never realised I was dreaming Sara’s life. I guess I just hoped I’d never see myself in these dreams. I mean, it could’ve been anyone. I bet she really hates me after yesterday. Or maybe I just blur into all the other chaos that’s going on in her life. I made her cry.

“I found out who I was dreaming about.”

“Really? How?”

“I saw myself in her dream. It’s someone I work with.”

“Oh really? That’s weird.”

“It’s all weird.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“No. I’d sound like a stalker more than anything.”

“Yeah...So, you’re just going to deal with them then?”

“I think I have to.”

“I think it’s cool in a way. How many people get to see someone else’s actual life?”

“It’s awful. It’s like having to cope with two different lives. I’m actually worried over her father in the hospital, Jay.”

“Honestly, I have no idea what to tell you.”

“I know. I gotta go.”

“See you.”

The bus is busy today. I don’t really mind because I’m distracted. I don’t know why I thought these dreams would stop after I figured out who it was. This just makes it worse. I always sort of knew it was a real person, but now it’s actually true. And just that it’s Sara. Someone I know. Someone I don’t really like. How can I ever look at her the same way again?

I go into the office and carry on as usual. I’ve brought a spare top with me today, and I think I will from now on as well. I mean it’s pathetic really, getting so angry over some spilt coffee. I see Sara walk in. She never talks to me, but I’m still surprised when she doesn’t come over to say anything. I forget that she doesn’t know that I’m a part of her life. Well, I feel like I am anyway. I keep staring at her. She eventually looks over and smiles. I’ve never liked this woman really, but all I can do is smile back. Out of all the things that’s going to happen to her today, I hope maybe this one thing will cheer her up.