Pain

I looked up upon the sky, and I saw a house in the end of the beanstalk.

A typical type of house that we used to draw in the playschool - red roof, squared windows with white draping curtains and cream in color, almost the size of half of my thumb when compared side by side.

Someone whom I was not familiar with approached me.

He/She told me something that I wished I had no heard of.

He/She said that my beloved grandmother was in the house, couldn't be able to get down. She has gone into the stage of senility. That person attempted to mock my grandmother. Sitting on an invisible chair, with the upper body rocking back and forth, repeatedly murmuring 'I don't remember anymore, I don't remember anymore, I don't remember anymore....'

My eyes welled. I tried to figure out of how to bring my grandmother down, so that I could spend the rest of her life with her. The house was situated so high up - it was at least 20 storeys high and it was impossible for me to carry my heavy grandmother down. The only means to get into the house was by climbing the beanstalks... I couldn't come up with a feasible solution.

My heart ached. The idea of leaving my senile grandmother alone in that isolated house stabbed my heart.

My tears started to stream and when I opened my tear-welled eyes, I realised that I was in the pitch-dark room, lying on my bed, with the comforter lightly rested on me.

Thank God, it was just a nightmare. A most painful nightmare that I've ever had.

The myth that dreams only consist of black and white are busted. I could remember vividly every single color of the house and the sky as well as the grassland.

I know that I can't afford to lose my grandma, even though I know that eventually, I will have to.

Life has been so good now, but how long can the status quo be remained?