“So, what will you choose?”

Asked the hooded man with a raspy, growly voice.

I don’t know who he is or what he wants from me, the only thing I know is that I was given some kind of choice.

“Pick the first option, and you will forever live in the bliss of ignorance.” — He hissed like a snake.

“What about the second one?”

“If you pick the second option, you will never forget anything.” — His voice pitched up and down in an almost artificial way.

“Is there a third option?” — I hoped to know.

“No.”

“Who are you, anyway?” — I asked, trying to get some context of what was going on.

“It is too early to answer that question.” — He sounded even more “plastic”, if that makes any sense.

“Where are we?”

When those words were finished coming out of my mouth, my vision got brighter and I saw myself standing in a dark room, with no walls in sight and only a thin film of cold water beneath my feet, which were bare.

He stood in front of me, covered under a hood and a long coat, only showing his mysterious silhouette.

After taking in the abstract, senseless facts that were happening around me, after a while, I asked:

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to choose.” — His voice sounded smoother now.

“What is the point of choosing?”

Again, my vision flashed and showed me scenes I had forgotten about my past. A moment with my parents at the beach. I wore an orange t-shirt and flannel pants. I was maybe seven. I was happy. That moment, at that time, meant everything to me.

Now, a vision of the house I grew up in flashed over my mind’s eye. A wide field of green, luscious grass expanded before my eyes. The world looks much bigger when you’re a child. The clear blue sky suddenly turned dark, and I remember feeling fearful of the blackness that hid that which I couldn’t possibly know. I was maybe five. I felt afraid. That moment, at that time, meant everything to me.

The vision slowly faded and soon I was back at the black, cold and wet empty space with the man.

“Do you understand it, now?” — He asked.

“Not really.”

“They made a decision considering you above everything else.”

My parents. They loved me more than anyone ever did. I am alive today thanks to their blood, sweat and tears.

Hundreds of memories whizzed past my mind’s eye, showing me every moment that they sacrificed themselves for me. Every moment that went by and I didn’t truly understand, or accurately saw at the time, when they swallowed dry and did what they had to do. For me.

“What does this have to do with the options I have to choose from?” — I felt confused.

“Everything. What you choose will determine the rest of your days on earth.”

I said nothing for a while.

“Do you choose to forget or to remember?” — He prompted again.

I thought about everything I was shown up until this point. I thought about how it made me feel. I thought about what consequences there might be to each of the options. I thought about what my parents did and why. I thought about what they would choose. I wanted to do it as they would themselves.

But that’s impossible.

I felt the sting of tears swelling around my eyes.

I didn’t feel like I could choose. None of those things seemed fair. They both hurt. They both would leave broken souls behind, and both would break me in their own ways.

I went back to being five and seeing the grass field’s darkness. I was paralyzed. I could rationally understand why it was important for me to conquer my fear of the dark. But something inside my bones anchored me to the ground, cemented my joints and filled my mind with a thick, dark fog. My heart raced and my palms were sweaty. I couldn’t choose.

“I will not ask again.” — The hissing, trembly voice woke me up from my paranoia.

“Never again?”

“No.”

“Then I choose to not choose.”

He was silent for a long moment. During that period I could clearly feel my chest tightening, my heart pumping irregularly and my throat closing. My body temperature dropped and I felt dizzy. I was about to pass out, when he mimicked my dad’s voice and said to me:

“You disappoint me. Live with your choice, then.”

My whole body was sucked into a portal of light behind me, and I woke up in a pool of sweat on my bed. It was a Sunday morning. There was a thin streak of light coming from between the blackout curtains.

I couldn’t move. I also couldn’t feel any emotion. I was numb.

I faintly recalled my dream and sighed.

Soon, I mustered up enough energy to roll to the side. I saw my bedroom. My whole life. Nothing mattered.

After a few deep breaths, I raised my arm to grab a half-smoked cigarette from the ashtray and a lighter on the bedside table.

I lit it. I inhaled the smoke deeply and let it sit in my lungs for a few seconds before letting it out. My vision locked on a static point on the wall in front of me until it got foggy. I stared at the wall for a few minutes.

“Live with your choice, then.” echoed repeatedly in my mind.

But how could I not? I thought, giving a little smirk. We all live with our choices. This is mine’s.

I stumbled out of bed, took my pills and lived another hazy day.

Regretting absolutely everything.