Milk or Blood
A Figment or Fear?
I stare at my glass of milk while my mother sat at the edge of my bed encouraging me to finish it soon. I refuse it today. It was something new every day to me and my mother. Sometimes it was the toothbrush, sometimes the doorknob; mostly it was the doormat that had been bothering me recently.
There was a new tantrum every day; I felt, the guilt that accompanied it and for my mother the pressure of it. I felt bad for putting her through this. Unlike other mothers, however, she didn’t accuse me of my sudden unjustified behavior.
I was a queer young boy, with no friends but a love for things that do not usually appeal to other kids. I was obsessed with helicopters.
I was suddenly intimidated by the surrounding; the room I had lived in and loved for the past 10 years seemed different. The red stuffed dog on the book stand seemed strange and unfriendly. As I slipped into the covers, the navy blue comforter with stars seemed to be stiffer, the color lighter than I remembered. Even though, I had been wearing the same blanket for years now.
My mini helicopter sat on my nightstand which too, was making me feel uncomfortable and estranged; after I had taken my glasses off and put them next to it.
‘I don’t want to sleep here, I decided and jumped right back into a sitting position and replaced my black spectacles. My mother sits there staring, her face exuding concern and worry.
I shut my eyes as a wave of drowsiness overcomes me. It all comes back to me the significance of helicopters in my life; a fond memory of the blades spinning, and the helicopter taking off defiantly.
A shiny orange one was driven by Mr. Ed the savior of lost puppies. With one swift motion, Mr. Ed grabbed on to the window and swung inside. His mind focused and his face straight; devoid of any emotions. With its orange exterior glistening with pride under the bright sunlight, the buzzing beauty knew no boundaries like a free hummingbird capable of flying upwards, downwards sideways with no hesitation. They mesmerized me and filled me with euphoria; just the sight of one of them ─ the glamorous fly vehicles.
I never confessed it out loud. I couldn’t tell her what I saw, what had been filling me with dread for the past few months. I dreaded talking about it, as it didn’t make sense to me neither it would to Mommy. I remember her having a discussion on the phone with somebody about irrational things that didn’t make sense to anyone, not even her. And I feared what I was feeling was irrational.
Besides the night sweats, unpredictable zoning out, bursting out things I didn’t mean. There was one more thing that had been frightening me the most.
It was how things kept changing.
Changing into something that it was not, like magic. Earlier in the day, I was so convinced that I had seen the tennis bat in the toy chest but it turned out to be in the yard. That wasn’t so bad, but yesterday when I had seen a snake inside the toilet, it disappeared really fast before I had a chance to prove it to the family. I tried to shrug it off without uttering anything to anyone now.
But the milk now that mom had brought looked nothing like milk and it was making me scared and confused. It was thick and red like something I had seen on TV. I knew what it was. It was blood. Something that stayed inside your body unless you were hurt.
Witnessing a glass full of blood felt cryptic and sinister. Blood was supposed to be on TV or the hospital but never in a glass that was supposed to contain milk. Then I was zoning out, the place went away from me and I succumbed to the fuzzy, sleepy feeling that lured me in.
