A Little Taste of Heaven

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"It's all immaterial."

The brightness of where I am standing seems to blind my vision. But I feel like the room is beautiful, with its high ceiling, greyish stone walls, and white marble floor. Elegant decorations, of probably the 1900s era, fill the hall. The tables have gorgeous centrepieces for anyone who wants to drink and eat food. I have no clue if this is a dream or not because if it is, everything looks too surreal, and I can feel the presence of people around me. I think the ceilings are too high for me to see, though. So, there is a possibility of this being a dream. The laughter and chatter of the people swell in the air, but it seems like I’m alone. All of it is unrecognizable, but as if I’ve been in this moment before, it looks so familiar.

When I observe myself, I am wearing formal attire, as well as the others; gowns for the women while suits and bows or ties for men. I am not sure what is happening around me, but they look like they’re having fun. Although the weirdest thing is just by his presence, I know that the guy, leaning on one of the tables and talking, is him. That person was Nate, and I realise the people here are my high school mates. Even though my memory of him is fuzzy, I can tell it really is Nate. So, that’s why I can’t point out if it’s a dream or not because it might be from my memory back in one of our high school soiree. Then he walks towards me with a smile, which I had always loved. When he’s in front of me, I have to look up. I forgot how tall he is. He says my name, “Mariana?” though his lips are moving, “Mariana?”

The voice is not his.




Mariana!? Mariana!?

My eyes flutter open. I groan and see my mother shaking my arm. “Mum?” the lines on her face were less, and she looks radiant. I squint and ask, “Why do you look so young?”

“Oh, stop it, you.” My mum blushes. “Get up now, or you’ll be late!”

“What do you mean, late?” I moan and complain. “Oh, for goodness sakes, it’s Saturday!”

Mum pushes my duvet away, and I shudder. Then she slides my curtains aside, “Saturday is three days from now. Aren’t you so excited for this week to come? What happened yesterday, sweetie? How come you think it’s Saturday already?”

I watch her go into my closet. I yawn, going back to sleep. But then, I asked myself, “How did I get here?”

“Well, you’re gonna be late for school!” she hands me my high school uniform!?!?!

Bombarded, I quickly get out of my bed and look at the calendar and am surprised to see — 2010 NOVEMBER 16?!?!?

Am I dreaming, or have I actually gone back in time!? I must have passed out because everything went black.

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