The Vision

I was on my way to Dubai for an important meeting.  I had prepared well and looked forward to the finalising a strategic deal.

I planned to drink lots of champagne on the flight and make use of the pyjamas. Afterall, flying first class was not something I did every day.

My eyes started getting red soon after boarding.  By the time dinner was served they were on the colour of tomato soup.  The woman sitting next to me said “What are your eyes telling you? What do you not want to see?”.  I laughed, had my nightcap, ran over my notes for the meeting and went to sleep. Lying flat!

I had a plan in my head.  I was sticking to the vision.  (No pun intended).

I arrived safely at my hotel and when I finally got to look in a mirror, I panicked. Just a little bit. My eyes were blood red.  I went to see a doctor immediately.  I needed to sort my eyes out pronto.

When I returned to the hotel, I could not shake the feeling.  I felt awkward and scared.

But, I had a plan. A vision.  I planned to stick to it. 

The first day’s meetings went well but I had to excuse myself from an important dinner that night.  I had to.  My eyes needed rest.

I went to dinner alone.  I felt like someone was watching me.  All the time.

My vision did not include this stupid twist.

My food did not arrive despite two reminders. They apologised and told me that that had never happened in the history of the hotel. They agreed to send the food to my room.

That creepy feeling increased tenfold.  

I went to my room.  The doorbell rang and my heart jumped!  It was only the food arriving but for some reason I was freaked out. I tried to eat but could not relax.

So, I went downstairs to the hotel lobby.  I thought that perhaps a spot of people-watching would distract me. Help me return to normal.  Help me to stop acting crazy!

I was walking across the room when I heard someone making a sound. A catcall kind of sound.  I turned in the direction of the sound and it was a man. An Arab man in a long white cloak and a veil on his head.  He winked at me. 

I knew something was wrong.  I felt INSTANTLY nauseas.  My beautiful vision was gone.  Instead, I was filled with fear, disgust and paranoia. 

I decided to sit down.  For God’s sake! This was a famous hotel with cameras everywhere, plenty of tourists and my business associates were staying in the same damn hotel. What could go wrong?

So, I straightened my shoulders, gave myself a mental smack and walked across the room to another part of the hotel. I looked around for the man.  I did not see him.

I took two steps forward when I heard the man make the sound again.  By now I was officially freaked out!  He was hiding behind a plant and he stuck his tongue out and licked his lips.

Through my sore eyes I saw fear. Big time!

I planned to go straight to reception and alert them to my fears but my phone rang and I took the call.  When I looked around again, I saw the man talking to the people at reception, laughing and looking like they all knew one another.

I could not go to reception. I definitely did NOT want the bad pervert to know that I was scared of him. That was not an option.

So, I went to my room. Bolted the door. Texted my colleague in the room down the hall to find out how the dinner had gone. I didn’t care about the dinner, actually. I just wanted to know that he was there if I needed him.

My eyes insisted on closing. I could not sleep but my eyes needed to be closed.

About 3 hours later, the room phone rang.  I answered and there was no one there.

I called reception. I asked them if they had called.  They said no.  I check with my colleague. He had not called either.

Two minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

I did not answer.  My eyes refused to open. Literally.  

I did not know if it was the bad man, my colleague, reception, security or some other extra terrestrial!  I guess I will never know.

On the long flight back home, I let my emotions flow.  I just burst out crying!  Those tears acknowledged that I was pissed off that my body had failed me at such a crucial time, that I had let some stupid man play games with my mind when I was not feeling well and that as a woman, I was such a soft target.  Most of the tears were about the vision.  The vision that had gone wrong. Literally.

When I arrived in Johannesburg my eyes were cleared up.

And, instead of keeping an open mind, guess what I did?  Yes, another vision.  The vision I had was of eating hot dinner with my husband in the safety of my home, telling him my story with my eyes sparkly and white.


© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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