Dreamscape of a Red Chair
It was too crowded and I was really bored, so I pulled out a notebook to draw the chair in front of me. They looked at me like I was doing something wrong, I kept drawing anyway. The ground I sat was kind of old, dusty but it wasn't much of a thing to bother myself. I was just enjoying myself until a question dropped with eyes pointing on me. It was from someone who had a suite. Like a business man. Yet, his suit was kind of dirty. I had a sensation that he was a kind of person whom takes the metro just to watch poor people to satisfy his own ego and has a car.
"When is the show gonna start?"
"I don't know."
"How can't you?"
"I just really don't know."
"Such waste of money isn't it?"
"I guess..."
There he left me in peace, although his angry gaze was upon me. I just shrugged it off quickly and went back to drawing that chair. It wasn't really beautiful, not in the usual sense but somehow, it was enough. Like the ones you see in theaters or shows. It was a tone of red which is more darker than the original brightness of red. It had wooden handles in sides. They were clean unlike the ground I sat on. My ground was not dirty in my opinion but it had just way too much footsteps. Even into a point that I got dirty, yet, I stil don't believe the ground is dirty. However, that chair was old I think. Yes, it was clean but I don't know, it just feels like I am looking at an ancestor of mine. There someone else turned his head to mine, he was very unlike me. There were some more people around him. He was talking with them really carelessly until he showed me a really intimate, heart-felt gaze.
"Weirdo."
Once again. For whatever reason, among the people who walk back to back to the stairs in the sides of the room, someone called me as "weirdo". What a nice society.
I wonder if that chair ever carried a president or something like that. Definitely didn't have me before. Maybe I can be at there one day, just like the juries who rank the showman and that kind of people. It is very interesting that even though I'm looking at a simple chair, I see many faces passing by. Most of them look at me like I'm guilty of something. Provided I am, then press charges.
Whatever.
I pulled out my red pen from my pencil case, the one that has cars on it. Then, I started to slowly color the sketch I've drawn of the chair. I was pushing the pen up and down, just trying to fill the emptiness in the plan of that chair. It wasn't looking fine without red. There was a slight problem, my red was not as dark as that. Actually, my red pen was much more lighter tone of red. I think that is fine, I can go with that, it will be fine as long as I am capable of keeping my face dry. So I kept coloring inside of the borders. Filled as good as I can, actually no, I was just randomly trying to fill the emptiness I guess. It turned out very unlikely of the chair. It really broke my heart when I realized it, that chair was so close to craft with my hands but I am incapable of coloring it as good as itself. Also realized that I missed to add the handles to my drawing. That made me deeply sad, so I threw the pen away. Bad pen. I wanted it to be better. I wanted it to be as in my view, it is just like a dream. That dark red chair which has wooden handles on the sides. I wish I could have it in my life. I thought of giving up on the drawing, when a voice, soft and slow like a haunting lullaby, floated from below.
"What are you drawing?"
"Who?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Nothing."
A voice that felt like haunting lullaby, a changed, rearranged, retuned version of the horror movie opening that turns into a child song. When I turned my head to the source of the voice. I saw an old woman, wearing black sweater over a white shirt with beige colored long skirt. Got closer to me, she was in a very lower ground against me at where she stands.
"Can I come up?"
"If you want to."
Few seconds later, she climbed the stairs of the ground I'm sitting at the time. She got closer and closer with every step. When she got next to me, she was towering over me. I felt very uncomfortable. Especially when she looked over my shoulder to see my drawing completely naked and without any interpretation of mine.
"That is beautiful."
I felt a slight heat in my face. I knew I wasn't sick because I was protecting myself very goodly from environment but the heat kept rising from my nostrils to the top of my head.
"Thank you."
"You really like that chair, don't you?"
"I do."
I was in a state of confusion, there I was sitting next to her. Holding a notebook with the drawn image of a dark red chair. At that moment, I realized that I can go and sit at that chair. She tapped at my shoulder.
"Here is the pen you threw earlier."
"Thank you."
I leaned forward and pushed my palms against the ground. Then, I drove my knees up a little and readjusted my feet. After that, I've fixed my posture and stood tall. Her head was as high as tip of my chin. I felt a little dizzy, it was like walking for the first time, since I've been sitting here for hours. Funnily, I don't really remember how and when I came here.
"Do you need help?"
I walked towards the stairs. My steps were slow but really had no patience. When I get to the lower ground, I turned my head back to where I came from. The ground I sat before was coming up to my shoulder now. I didn't realize it was that high. I kept walking towards that chair.
Finally, I was a touch away. I slowly grabbed one of that wooden handles, it was softer than I've expected. Then, I let myself fall into the pillow-like dark red. It almost felt like I was a part of it. I was destined to sit in that chair. I slowly drove my hands through the handles, a slight shagginess felt like I was being brushed by a artist. It was really good sensation to experience for the first time. When I laid back, my spine had the most comfiest bed. I could sleep there for hours.
"Is it as how you expected it?"
"Yes, İt is so comfortable and nice. I really want to stay there all day long."
She smiled at me. Somehow, I felt another heat wave in my face.
"Do you want a company?"
For a second, once again, I felt that heat wave. Then I thought, all this time I waited to cherish this chair. I was finally on it. I was living the time of my life. So I turned my gaze on her and said.
"No, I don't think I'm capable of a company right now."
The corners of her lips fell downwards for few seconds then neutralized back. She untied her hair. It was also dark red but much darker than the chair I was sitting. Her hair was almost like that bitter fruit juice's color, which made me dizzy when I tasted with my friends back in the day. As few minutes passed by, the chair felt more and more normal. Almost like the ground I've been sitting before. I stand back up to go back in that dusty place. It was more familiar and more comfortable now. The wooden handles were too rough to rest my arms, it makes me feel as I am too old to play house again and the chair was restricting me to sit in a prefixed position just as when I was asking for treats but they weren't really able to provide with the money they have, which would end up with hurting treats to my cheeks, back and head.
So I went back up, while walking back those stairs, I realized that there were some lamps on top of me. Some of them explicitly were pointing the ground I've sat before. When I got back at my old place. I wanted an urge to look at her face. Her face was covered by her hands. I wondered what she was hiding, so I kind of tried to open her hands. Without a hesitation she revealed her face to me. Her face was wet. Very wet.
"Am I hideous?"
Why was she even asking that to me? I am not a beauty professional anyways.
"I don't know, are you?"
"Don't you remember my face?"
As she asks, I remembered a memory of her where she was waiting next to me while I was sleeping in a cradle that is painted light tones of red, I think it was twenty five years ago. She was saying that I look pretty and very lovely. I thought it was some sort of a sick joke. Calling me someone as dumb as a person who believes in love. What kind of a person would do that? Whatever, as I kept trying to remember her name, there were crumbles of memories coming back to my mind.
"You were calling me Pawnie, did you really forget my name too?"
"Do you remember mine?"
She slapped my face immediately.
It didn't just hurt but it made me feel like I was bleeding. Just like I was bleeding when they hit me before and popped a little wound on my lip when my teeth squeezed it with the effect of slap.
"Camillo."
"It hurt."
It really hurt, it was not a play pretend that she was doing. She actually hit me. I didn't do anything but she hit me.
"You know what? You still don't deserve neither my affection, my love nor my interest. I shouldn't have came here and left you into your selfish loneliness."
I stood in silence, my face red, she disappeared from my view before reaching the stairs.
I went back to looking for something else to draw.
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