It was the beginning of a semester. I went to my math class. I had prior knowledge about the course from asking around before taking it.
I seated myself in the classroom. It was an auditorium.
The professor walked inside from the bottom of the auditorium. He locked the doors with the keys before proceeding to start his lecture.
I don’t quite remember what he lectured, but I did remember that he called one of the students as volunteer to answer a question. Due to the student’s erroneous answer, the student’s head immediately exploded, his body lying flat on the ground.
The professor then proceeded to lecture as if nothing happened. The students, including myself, also proceeded take notes as if nothing happened.
During the class, I was seated beside another Asian student. He had a face that resembled one of my childhood friends. We talked and quickly made friends with one another.
As we approached the end of the class, my friend was called by the professor as a volunteer. He invited me to follow him down the stairs and I agreed; I assured that I will be with him if something happens.
Throughout the sequence of Q&As, my friend looked a bit nervous. I placed my hands on his shoulders from behind him to reassure that I’m still with him. The professor was slowly approaching us through each question. At the end of the sequence, he was at point blank range in front of my friend’s face.
He then reached his hands out and grabbed onto my friend’s head, the Q&A still ongoing as my friend frantically answered the questions. The professor then slowly pulled my friend’s head away from his body. For some unknown reason, I not only didn’t help him, I gripped his shoulders even more tightly as his head was slowly ripped apart from the rest of his body, each tendon his neck severing. The professor tossed his head aside once the head was completely detached. The head rolled a few inches until it landed face up. My friend’s face in my direction, his eyes wide open, boring into me.
The professor also looked at me, and we exchanged a few words. His eyes looked unimpressed.
I felt myself being wrapped around by my friend’s still warm body in a piggyback position. I tried to shake it off, but the body gripped harder. I didn’t quite mind; I distinctly remembered that a body severed from its head should die within a few minutes.
The bell rang. Doors opened. I walked toward the door, still carrying my friend’s body. A passing student grabbed my friend’s head and gently placed it on his body behind my back. I didn’t want to tilt it too much; it would disgust me if the head falls away from the body.
I walked out the classroom and downstairs into the cafeteria. I ate with my friends. They asked which class I had been to, I answered Math, from classroom 347. I think they also had prior knowledge about the class as they stared at me in awe. I proudly, cheerily told them that I haven’t died yet.
Looking back, I don’t think they were staring at me, but at the body still clinching to my back.
I tried to shake it off gently, but his body, still warm, continued to clench my back. It didn’t feel like he gripped too tightly. It just felt like he was barely clenching on, but enough that I can’t shake him off.
I suddenly had an allusion that I wasn’t the one carrying his body, but that his body, along with the barely dangling head, was slowly merging into me.
That’s when I woke up. I felt the feeling of sleep paralysis whenever I wake up suddenly from a nightmare, and I forcefully curled my fingers to get the rest of my body awake.
I texted my childhood friend whose face was similar to the “friend” I made in my dream. He has not replied yet. But since it’s my first day of school, I didn’t have time to wait for him to reply as I excitedly swung my classroom door open