Freedom from Within

A Nightmare while I Was Wide Awake

(Two weeks after visiting the orphanage)

Roma is my best friend. We've known each other since fifth grade, when I had moved to the province and lived with my grandmother. I was forced to move to the province because I was a rebel. I was the black sheep, while my sister was my parents' angel.

I looked into the last and only photo I have of my sister. It was a photo taken while we were in grade school; she was in sixth grade while I'm on my fifth grade. In the photo, you will see our differences clearly. She was wearing a yellow floral dress that matched the yellow floral bow on her head. Her plain white leather ballet shoes matched her plain white satchel. For my sister, everything has to match. Her reading glasses were black because she said that it would match any color. On the right side of the photo was me. I was clad in black: from my black Nirvana shirt to black ripped jeans to black sneakers to my black contact lenses. Heavy black eye liner surrounds my eyes, which made me look more like Amy Lee rather than my own sister. My side bangs covers half my face. Yeah, I looked like the emo/goth/punk Amy Lee.

I then touched the locket that my sister gave me on my eighth birthday. It has a photo of us when we both played angels one Easter. I chuckled when I remember that day. We were chosen to play as angels because, they said, we were sisters. I hated that day because I could not wear my makeup. In the photo, my sister was laughing at my annoyed face. Why was I annoyed? Because I did not feel comfortable without my makeup. I felt naked.

God, I miss my sister. I miss hearing her call me "My Felicity." I can't help but close my eyes to prevent the water from my eyes from making waterfalls again.

Let's focus on what I was saying a while ago.

Roma was my best friend. Yeah. She still is. She had my back whenever I seem to fall out of my zone. She was there when my parents kicked me out of the house. She was there when my sister died. She was there whenever I needed a shoulder to cry on. She was there when I needed a good laugh. Roma is a wonderful girl. Thus, what she confessed to me last night came as a shock. It was a nightmare that happened while I was awake. The problem with it is bigger than that being a nightmare: it was real and it could not be undone.

*flashback*

"Roma, you seem distracted," I pointed out. I noticed her uneasiness whenever she spends the night here in my condo. "What's bothering you?"

"N-nothing. I uh... I just have some problems at home," she said while not looking at me.

"Problems at home? We both know you live alone. What is it, really?"

"Okay. Just meet me after my shift at the café."

Later that night, I had watched as Roma finished the last song on her list. She sings in the bar every Tuesday night and goes back to mixing drinks for the rest of the night until midnight. I love hearing her voice, but something about her performance tonight bothered me. She sang with sad eyes and nervous fidgeting. Then, I watched her spill some liquor when mixing drinks. She really looked distracted. It was after her shift when I approached her.

"Hey! Roma, you were great back there!"

"Thanks," she said while hugging me.

"Do you want to eat first before we head out?"

"Maybe we can just order and eat at your home?"

I nodded. But her silence was really bothering me. So when we got in my car, I asked her right away.

"Roma, I see you're really uneasy around me these past few days. What's wrong?"