The Illusionist

So it was, I stood on the stage, where a mammoth crowd lay wide before me. The very cheer, a cacophony of sounds, the myriad of colours bedazzled me. I was mused. "I speak here on this very day, to give you one last speech", spoken in all my might.

"It may be the very last but I knew that, all in all, I have owed my achievements, through all your efforts, to give me what I am today. At the very least, I shall say thanks first, to everyone." The crowd cheered, roared with such enthusiasm, and I was enlightened that even the littlest of a flame could be rekindled, so easily.

***

His speech full of glory and passion, and finally he gives last note of appreciation to those most important to him. Slowly he tread towards the steps where he headed to the dressing room. His figure was slouching, unlike that of an authoritarian that he once had. The steps grew heavier. He was heaving, panting, and then he collapsed. Towards that room, he was brought into, and an ambulance was called upon. He had live a long full life.

***

The light was so bright, blinding me, and its warmth wrapped around me. I felt like a baby once more, and I cuddled, to an eternity, of sleep. At the end of my view, a figure slipped by, and my eyes opened, pinned upon the sky, which was spans an infinity of whiteness. I was no longer dozing off, but stood in disbelieve of what my very eyes had set upon.

***

He picked up his pace, and walked towards me. I could see his youth and vigor, and he looked upon me with all the curiosity, of a child. And then he was before me. He mumbled an indiscernible form of speech of which, I soon found out to be a greeting. He examined me, as I did of him. He was a young boy of approximately 6 years of age, a stout figure, light brown hair, and had some freckles. He was wearing a nice little sweater, along with a pair of jeans. He concentrated on the suitcase I brought, curious, and soon, I was dragged along by him.

***

He looked very much like Papa, and the indescribable euphoria at the moment enveloped me, and I was on cloud nine. I tried to bring him to my house to Mama, but he wouldn't budge. I soon took his hand and dragged him again. He gave in and a smile was etched onto my face.

Soon, we were in front of the door of my house, which was not locked, and I entered dragging Papa along. I made him sit on the sofa, in our cosy little living room, while I went to look for Mama.

***

As I gazed by all the little pictures that were on display, I couldn't help but notice the familiarity that I am experiencing. I felt no longer lost, and the man in the picture, resembled someone I know. He was one of those faces, which you can't forget, yet I am unable to recall. He was, a great man. "Mama, mama" and the little boy was back into the living room. "I can't find Mama." I told him I had to go and he reluctantly let me leave.

I slowly walked out along the path, as I bumped into a lady. Fair she was, and in all her grace, she was the most beautiful woman I've met. My head ached, as the recollection of memories, slowly flood into me, she was someone, someone I knew. But who? who? For a moment later, all I felt, was numbness.

***

Mama reached for me, and off the far side of my vision, I could see Papa clenching his head in pain. A loud hit, a car skid, and I saw Papa on the street. I rushed, teary eyes, towards him. He laid in a pool of blood, as I hear him say, "Mother, I'm finally back."

***

I was in a ward, white surrounded me and I couldn't help it but have this little tinge to give everyone a hug. Many were a good people who came to visit me, and I was glad. I had not felt so much better as I looked into the photos that were in this house of mine, as I see the one that was my Father, for he was, a great man.

And so I dozed off again, into my long sleep, seeking for an eternity of peace and serenity, of the dream I once had, of an illusionist.