"Ah, just leave me alone; just let me be; no, no...hu huh." I suddenly woke up from my nightmare; it was such a surreal experience. Sometimes I feel that it was not just a nightmare, but it's an indication that something will happen to me shortly, or it's the result of my past trauma that I don't remember.
I looked at the clock in deep thought; it was 4 am, but even if I went back to bed, I wouldn't be able to get a wink of sleep. Thinking that I had risen from my comfortable bed, I folded the silk bedsheets, looking out of the large window that covered almost the whole wall, which was exactly like a painting but a live one that could change colors according to days and seasons. I put on a tracksuit to go for a run and to take a breath of fresh air to relax from the nightmare I usually get.
I opened my room door, which was carved with the face of a lion and made of fine teak wood. I never knew why I even demanded something so terrifying as this to be on my door when I was just a kid. I sneered and went downstairs, observing the wall filled with portraits of my ancestors, who moved from holding a sword to carrying a firearm. Almost towards the end of the stairs, the wall was empty; there were no portraits after my grandfather. My grandfather used to tell me the next portraits would be mine and my son's. I had never understood why my father's portrait was absent. In the entire mansion, there were no photos of my parents. I never bothered to ask why, as I couldn't care less about the people that I don't even remember.
I came out of the main door and turned around to take a look at the mansion I had been living in. Looking at it, I mumbled, "Huh, this is what the dream of 90% of the people out there looks like." I smirked and went for a run in my luxurious garden, which was acres wide, but today, for some reason, I didn't want to jog here. Hmm, maybe I am bored of this place, or there is something called a gut feeling that is telling me to go out. Either way, I must go out. I returned to the mansion, then to my room for my Porsche key. I strolled down to witness my grandfather sitting on his favorite armchair and looking directly into my eyes. I suddenly looked down as I couldn't handle his glare, like a burning fire. He cleared his throat. "Where are you going so early in the morning?" I can't help but lie whenever he asks those questions, and I have no idea why. I said in a deep morning voice, "I wasn't able to sleep here, so I thought I could go to the guesthouse and get some rest before attending the meeting, which is scheduled at 10 am."
He gazed into my eyes and said, 'You're not going anywhere; go back to your room.' I was disappointed and went back to my room. "I shouldn't have come to get the key, or I shouldn't have listened to that nonsense gut." I talked to myself, then went to take the bathroom robe, but suddenly I got an ache in my throat, my body started to heat up, my face turned red, and a tear rolled down my cheek. Why? What's this? What's this feeling? Although I have been denied and disappointed, I have a sense of burning fumes inside me... Wait, is it what people call anger? Am I furious? Huh, that's right; I don't have anyone to ask about this. All I can do is ignore it and move on.
I took an hour-long bath, but for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about going out. After showering, I wore a posh designer suit, grabbed my BMW key, and went downstairs with my ancestors, watching me find my grandfather sitting in his armchair and reading our company magazine. As soon as he frowned, I knew that he was going to criticize me, and I was not surprised or disappointed by it, as it had become a routine.