Sleep and State

My eyes, seemingly autonomous from my dreamy mind push against each other breaking the thin layer of salt that gathered overnight.

I cry in my sleep sometimes - silently- it’s my indication of a nightmare, as I have hardly the displine to remember the world of my dream-state. I consider this a major flaw, as dreaming is a thing I think one ought to remember.

My fingers brush the salt film away and I can feel the red color of my eyes, highlighting the green tint of my irises. I’d like to see it. I yield to my vainess and my first thoughts consist of finding a mirror.

Wait.

Where am I?

An intense dread begins to emanate from my chest. I sit up, too quickly.

Little bugs float around my immediate surroundings. With them, I feel sickness rising up my throat. Mirror. Bathroom. I have to find one.

I slide my feet to the floor beneath the bed I was laying on. Disgusting. No sheets, but a rather unfortunate yellow mattress. Was it once white? I shudder at the thought.

My toes are surprised by the fleshy end they meet. Someone else. Who?

Another girl, laying on the ground. I can’t make out her face, as she looks to have made herself quite comfortable on the blue tiled floor, her arms creating a pillow and her raging dark hair a blanket on her back. I step over her, after checking for signs of life.

Another odd feeling presents itself to me. I am so sore. Not the kind of ache a newly worked muscle brings, but rather the kind of pain that indicates a fall. A hard fall. I pull up my sleeve to see the blooming purple marks of blood collecting under my skin.

What the hell?

I take in the whole room. Other than the mattress, it looks okay. Kind of nice. White walls and two open windows, the breeze making the white laced curtains dance. The shadows between the laces create changing marks on the wall. I forget my nausea as I contemplate their pattern, gradually making my way to the door.

Shutting it sofly, I realize I am in some kind of hostel, with embroidered signs framed with dusty glass directing me to the bathroom. El baño. Spanish. Spanish? Where am I?

The bathroom is occupied and I take the time to remove the bits of dirt and debris I collected on my bare feet during the short walk. I hear a grunt. The door is pushed, once, twice, and a boy who looks about my age falls out.

“Hello,” I say, my voice unusually rough. I clear my throat and try again, “Can I ask you, where is this place?”

“This place? Like this hostel? Or...?” he answers curiously.

“This hostel... and the city?” I ask, sounding more like myself.

“We’re in Tulum. In Mexico. The hostel name I’m not sure, but I think you can ask downstairs.” He looks at me intensly for a beat, and I nod my head thanks.

I begin to slide in the bathroom door when he calls to me again.

“Didn’t I see you last night? With the other girl? Maralina? She has the hair? The curly dark hair?”

I search his eyes for some reminance of recollection. None. Instead I feign memory.

“Oh. I think so maybe,” and before he replies, I shut the door.

It’s almost a talent how quickly I gag when I see the toilet. Like my body knew to wait.

The bile is awful, I can hardly imagine the drinks consumed as they induce more feelings of sickness.

The mirror. It’s missing. Too bad. Instead, I look down on myself and am embarassed to see only underwear and a raggedy shirt. Certainly not my shirt.

Turning back to the door, I brace myself for a heavy push as the boy did, but am surprised at the ease of its opening.

I check the hallway to make sure no one sees me in my close to bare state, and run back. The pattering of my sweaty feet sticking to the tiles is the only sound.

In the white room, the girl - Maralina - I presume, is still sleeping. I wonder why she’s on the floor.

I lay back on the mattress, any care of the yellowed bits fades away as the sleepiness grows. I think I’ll wait until she wakes up to ask her what happened. How we got here. How I know her. The rational part of my mind is muted as dreams begin to pull me in. I lose consciousness with the thought that I can wait just a little longer to figure it out.