WAKING AND SLEEPING OR SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN.

He thought that day would never pass. Time did not have any meaning to him. Another bitter portion of good-night humiliation, and, like all the previous ones, again unprovoked. He was not a saint, nor did he pretend to be a martyr, but the world he lived in was more like a glass bell in which his every move was strictly controlled.

He lay back in bed, calm, knowing he had the whole night ahead of him to share his thoughts. As usual, he turned on the radio to his favorite techno music station. He wasn't keen on that kind of music, but he found that it suited him best before sleep. He didn't even feel that he had slipped into sleep.

<<>>

He saw himself walking along the beach, aware that there was someone behind him whom he was sure he knew but he did not know who it was. It was a beautiful sunny day, and he was walking towards the clear water of the sea. He did not rush. Time did not have meaning here in his dreams.

He waded knee-deep into the cold water and bent down to pick up an object that caught his eye. It was a shell the size of a harmonica. It seemed mysterious and innocent. He managed to open it, being surprised by its contents. One half of the shell was filled with clear water, and the other half contained shell meat.

When look up from the shell, he saw a homeless man, sitting huddled on the beach, a few meters before him. The homeless man looked worriedly in his direction, and when he brought the shell closer to his face, the man started to shake uncontrollably and wave his arms. He heard a voice in his head telling him not to bring the shell to his lips, but it was hard for him to believe that the shell was dangerous to life. To present it, he looked straight into the homeless man's eyes and brought the contents of the shell to his lips.

<<>>

A terrible pain, as if someone was pulling him out of his body, shook him whole. He immediately opened his eyes and was stunned. A beautiful young woman with fair hair and the most beautiful smile he had ever seen stood by his bed and held his right leg in the air with both hands.

Although he wanted to believe that he was still dreaming, he was still aware that he was awake. Her hands left a mark on his skin, and he could feel her warmth. And then she let his leg fall on the bed and, smiling at him again, walked out of the room. He looked at her as if he were looking at his mother. She wasn't a ghost. He couldn't see through her. But then who was she? What?

He watched as if she opened the door of his room and listened to her steps as she left. He was too impressed to react. His mind refused to comprehend the scene he was witnessing, but he also couldn't find a clear justification. Who was that? An angel? A ghost? Is his brain playing with his mind? Millions of questions immediately filled his head.

He sat on the edge of the bed unable to move, to make any movement. His mind refused to accept explanations; his heart refused to calm down. He wanted to scream, to snap out of the state he was in, but there was nothing he could do. He had no control over himself.

The door to his room was wide open, even though he always locked it. Admittedly, he could have opened it himself without remembering. How many people have walked and done things in their sleep without even knowing it? Maybe this is the case with him as well.

Not! It's not. The woman was real, as were her touch and hand prints on his skin. How to explain it?

He managed to wince and stand up. He could feel the fresh air creeping into the room, tingling his bare skin. He always slept naked. Nothing was more beautiful to him than the touch of bare skin with a sheet. And then another shock. He looked at his watch and froze. He didn't want to believe that he had barely slept for five minutes. Techno music was still playing on the radio, and the moonlight was coming through the window. How is this possible? As time has no meaning.

As if in a trance, he started to close the door and then saw a footprint. Is his mind playing games with him again or not? The print was there, and no matter how hard he tried to make it disappear and convince himself it was all a dream nothing changed. But where did the print come from? It hasn't rained in days! The ground was as dry as powder, and that print made no sense! It wasn't his anyway.

He locked the room door and went back to bed. Listening to the sounds from the radio, he spent a lot of time thinking about everything that happened until he finally fell asleep.

<<>>

One stormy year passed after that event. He was in the army. He was lying on the bed, covered up to his chin, and patiently suffered the pain he was imbued with. There was a bottle full of pills on the cabinet next to his bed, and it seemed to beckon him. And his gaze often ended on that bottle. Intentions could be read in his eyes. 

It was his birthday, and no one knew. There were no congratulations or good wishes. He was alone. The army was his only refuge since he was thrown out of the house. He had nowhere to return. The girl he loved didn't love him, and the pain in his body kept him confined to bed. As if he were lucky to be alive, diseases took over him like greedy blood-sucking mosquitoes.

An ear infection, a tooth infection, and a sore throat - all at once. What is the probability that such a thing will happen all at the same time? It happened to him. The silence was eerie as he sobbed softly from the sorrow in his heart. His life had no meaning, and he did not want to prolong the agony any longer. He always said that time does not have meaning anyway.

He reached for the bottle, removed the cap, and with a faint smile on his face, began to swallow the pills one after another. With each pill, a thought flashed through his mind, an image flashed before his eyes, and then there were no more pills and no more pain. He closed his eyes and let himself go. He doesn't care anymore.

He fell asleep again.

<<>>

He was lying in a hospital bed while a young woman was quietly sobbing by the bed. He recognized his sister. Her tears dripped onto the floor as she clutched his hand convulsively. At that moment, he opened his eyes and looked at his sister. 

"If I have to die just to see you, I'm not sorry," he said, to which she cried, and his body suddenly started to glow.

He watched as his spirit left his body and began to hover above the bed, as the nurse called for the doctors, and as they rushed into the room and tried to revive him.

A strong light suddenly illuminated his face, and he turned towards that source. He saw a tunnel of light that radiated warmth and security. Without thinking, he went into it, feeling joy and relief wash over. And then he saw her. A beautiful girl, a memory he never repressed or forgot.

"You," he shouted, rushing towards her.

She gave him a smile and then tilted her head slightly as if reprimanding him. "Why am I saving you when you are trying so hard to die?" her words echoed with the sound of golden banners.

"So it's true," he couldn't believe it. "You were in my room. I didn't mean it."

She laughed again, but now she raised her hand and touched his shoulder. "Go back. It's not your time yet," she said gently pushing him away. He watched her disappear as he was pulled away by an invisible force. And then suddenly darkness. Time disappears.

<<>>

Shouts and noise made him open his eyes. His fellow soldiers stared at him in panic, with fear on their faces. He tried to understand what was happening and felt something sticky around his head. The entire pillow was red from the blood oozing from his left ear.

They took him to the doctor, and just in time - said the doctor. An hour or two later he would have lost his hearing and possibly seriously endangered his life. He was lucky, so they told him.

But he was not happy. He was in harsh reality again. He told the doctor about the pills and how he wanted to kill himself, but they found nothing. He was lucky again - he had strong stomach acid, and it seemed the pills couldn't work. What luck, what bad luck.

Years and years have passed, but not a day goes by that he doesn't think of that beautiful woman who saved him twice and whom he never found out whether she was real or a dream or something in between.