She walked outside the elevator, two apartment doors faced her. The walls were white, a mirror hanged by her left. She didn't like mirrors very much. At least this one wasn't very bid not did it look threatening. The lights had went on when she moved out of the elevator, but it wasn't pitch-black dark before. She rang the bell.
A few seconds later, the door at the right was being unlocked. It opened fast.
–Hey there!
–Hey!
He welcomed her into the apartment. It was a big living room, two mattresses lied on the floor in front of the sofa. The lights were off but there was enough illumination due to the big windows at the balcony right across the room. The curtains were slightly opened.
She had been there before to, just like this day, watch horror movies. Some of the movies he showed to her were interesting. She would sometimes bring some movies too. They'd normally watch two movies. He loved that genre, and seemed to be deeply interested in trying to find movies that could scare her. It normally succeeded due to some jump scares. But it didn't feel enough for him.
She'd find it strange, that pursuit of fear. Even though he seemed to care about her at the end of every movie, there was also a strange look in his eyes. He longed for that lasting fear that walks behind you when it is bedtime.
Somehow, however, it felt safe. To this day, it was only jump scares. Some of the stories or characters were genuinely scary, and there was a eerie feeling at times, after the credits. Did not suffice but it always felt a little bit closer.
Popcorns were being prepared. They normally chatted during those explosions in the microwave. Topics regarding life in general, some events, some things that were funny. Then, after it was ready, it was time to go to the living room. He'd usually ask if she was ready, or which one would she like to watch first. She always asked which one was scarier, but he always had a hard time answering that.
It was hard for him to point out where to find fear in a movie, and had been so for a long time. But he still ranked some things that were present in these movies and that could perhaps get to her. Always trying to avoid spoilers, for it killed the surprise factor that could add to the possible fear.
And this is the day it all started...
domingo, 20 de dezembro de 2015
Gift, part 11
–This is going to be so fucking awesome, man!
–Yeah, I'm sure it will.
–Do you want to join us at the soccer game? We are planning to go all the way to Newcastle to see the match between Brazil and New Zealand.
–Oh, the Olympics, right?
–Yeah! It is going to be awesome! We can go from Scotland to England really easy!
–Cool, I'm buying the plane tickets.
It was funny to think that it was somehow easier to talk to friends who were abroad, far away. Those who were close seemed to be distant, and it wasn't their fault. And by feeling some sort of remorse for letting them stray away like that, silence reigned.
Like a vicious cycle.
But he was truly decided in buying those plane tickets to visit a friend in Scotland. The university was on strike, so there wasn't much to do. His friend's joy of receiving visit from such a distance was enough. For thinking too much he didn't feel like radiating happiness.
But it would be fun.
Fun...
It was of fun that the darkness fed off him. Being sad made it weaker, being angry made it weakest. Angry meant to be completely devoid of its influence. Was it a good tradeoff?
Sometimes he felt it was, sometimes it felt like a stupid question. The negative answer was obvious.
And thinking about that felt strange because, it could probably hear, or read. It would get aware of the situation sooner or later, it would know he had discovered this weakness in the bond.
But that would have to be thought of later, the dwindling relation between him and his friends was more important. But what was there to be done?
He grabbed his cellphone. Passing through all those chats, sometimes entering some to see the last messages. Wondering how could so many of those boxes have such old "last message" timestamps. There had always so much to talk about, and there still were things they could talk. Or perhaps he could just listen, the last weeks felt like... Empty.
If he could get rid of Daven, would the emptiness go away?
–I feel strange.
–What do you mean?
–It's like, being even more tired than before. But as more intense as it can feel, it also feels like a different type of being tired.
–Perhaps...
–Hm?
–Perhaps it is draining even more now.
–Even more... I thought about it these days. It probably already knows of my thoughts. It knows I am aware of the weakness.
–It might not worry much. You can't be kept angry forever. I don't know if one can endure such fate.
–I'd rather not have to hold such burden. Perhaps if I'm sad for life?
–Sad... Forever?
–Forever is a bit too long, but, if I keep on being sad for a very long period, it would get weaker right?
–Indeed, weaker and weaker. But it has already drained incredible amounts so, I'd say it can hold on for longer than you can keep up with that choice.
–Well, something could... Kill it, right? Like that day it killed, that thing.
–That's a difficult gamble...
–Perhaps...
–...Moreover, would a life like that be worth living?
–"Worth living" is something that depends a lot on the point of view.
–Yes, but...
–If you think solely on the point of choosing to be sad, it is more of a sacrifice that may not bring anything. Or you can see it as I see...
Her eyes were staring at his. He seemed different saying these things. The curiosity in those eyes shadowed the huge scar.
–...It is more like a war. And defeating it would be an achievement. If it chose me for, I don't know, being the best generator it could find, then perhaps I am the only one who could be up to the challenge. It is weird to say those words, it is not like being full of myself. I guess it is more in the sense of having to see it as something I can do, so I don't give up.
–It is a strange concept to me. But if thinking that makes you feel better... I just think that it may not be a wise move.
–I was never much the wise type.
She smiled.
–I could see that on the first day!
–Aw, come on! I was taken by surprise!
The smile faded a little.
–Yeah, I know...
He saw a glance of the face she made that day. How could he say anything about that day without referring to the scar. The eternal sad smile that tore her cheeks.
–But you know, I'm very glad that I had that day. Not only because I had a small victory against my fear, can't say I truly overcame it. But, Daven did one good thing. Sometimes I'd wait for the night to come just for the chance of having such a nice company.
She stared at him with a face that is hard to describe. It was like a void. Like someone who isn't sad but has no way to react to what just happened.
–I know this is quite weird, but I'm glad you're here.
The eyes turned downwards. He wondered if everything was okay. But before he could ask, she started.
–It is good to hear that. But you must remember that there is also the company of your friends. They can walk by your side all the time, not just at night.
–I know, but...
A tear made a small circle on the sofa.
–Thank you.
He looked at her hair. That was not how he expected it would be. Those were some strange days...
–I have a request for you.
–Sure! What is it?
–Do not choose to weaken it by torturing yourself.
–But I won't torture myself, I'll just...
–DO NOT!
He leaned backwards.
–I... Well, okay... I just don't know any other way...
–You'll figure out. But promise me you won't go through any of those you mentioned.
–I...
She raised her head. Her eyes were closed, forming a strangely happy smile, as if it was forced. As if it hurt.
–Because I promise that if you choose to go through any of those two, I will come for you.
His heart raced.
–I... Promise. I won't do that.
Her face went back to normal.
–Good. Now, let's go for a walk.
–A walk?
–Yes. Let's walk around the city, I know you enjoy that.
–You sure?
–Yes. Let's generate much more energy than he could ever think about draining this night.
His thoughts blanked.
–We won't be sleeping this Saturday. Go get ready.
Trying to hide the grin, he nodded and walked to the bedroom. But one thought then made its way through.
–Isn't it dangerous to walk around the city at night? I mean, it is not very safe and all...
She couldn't believe he worried about that. It sounded so silly it was funny.
–Hahaha, unsafe? Are you really worried about that?
–Oh, yeah, I forgot...
A week had passed.
The plane tickets were bought. His friend was preparing their schedule. Those would be two weeks on the United Kingdom. Those would be two weeks travelling through the country visiting castles and seeing impressive landscapes. Two weeks without worrying about whatever bothered him in his daily routine.
But it worried it.
And thus it came on his sleep.
He was used to waking up in the middle of the night. And so he did, and sat on the edge of the bed.
–We have been busy these last days, haven't we?
And darkness grew.
–Yeah, I'm sure it will.
–Do you want to join us at the soccer game? We are planning to go all the way to Newcastle to see the match between Brazil and New Zealand.
–Oh, the Olympics, right?
–Yeah! It is going to be awesome! We can go from Scotland to England really easy!
–Cool, I'm buying the plane tickets.
It was funny to think that it was somehow easier to talk to friends who were abroad, far away. Those who were close seemed to be distant, and it wasn't their fault. And by feeling some sort of remorse for letting them stray away like that, silence reigned.
Like a vicious cycle.
But he was truly decided in buying those plane tickets to visit a friend in Scotland. The university was on strike, so there wasn't much to do. His friend's joy of receiving visit from such a distance was enough. For thinking too much he didn't feel like radiating happiness.
But it would be fun.
Fun...
It was of fun that the darkness fed off him. Being sad made it weaker, being angry made it weakest. Angry meant to be completely devoid of its influence. Was it a good tradeoff?
Sometimes he felt it was, sometimes it felt like a stupid question. The negative answer was obvious.
And thinking about that felt strange because, it could probably hear, or read. It would get aware of the situation sooner or later, it would know he had discovered this weakness in the bond.
But that would have to be thought of later, the dwindling relation between him and his friends was more important. But what was there to be done?
He grabbed his cellphone. Passing through all those chats, sometimes entering some to see the last messages. Wondering how could so many of those boxes have such old "last message" timestamps. There had always so much to talk about, and there still were things they could talk. Or perhaps he could just listen, the last weeks felt like... Empty.
If he could get rid of Daven, would the emptiness go away?
–I feel strange.
–What do you mean?
–It's like, being even more tired than before. But as more intense as it can feel, it also feels like a different type of being tired.
–Perhaps...
–Hm?
–Perhaps it is draining even more now.
–Even more... I thought about it these days. It probably already knows of my thoughts. It knows I am aware of the weakness.
–It might not worry much. You can't be kept angry forever. I don't know if one can endure such fate.
–I'd rather not have to hold such burden. Perhaps if I'm sad for life?
–Sad... Forever?
–Forever is a bit too long, but, if I keep on being sad for a very long period, it would get weaker right?
–Indeed, weaker and weaker. But it has already drained incredible amounts so, I'd say it can hold on for longer than you can keep up with that choice.
–Well, something could... Kill it, right? Like that day it killed, that thing.
–That's a difficult gamble...
–Perhaps...
–...Moreover, would a life like that be worth living?
–"Worth living" is something that depends a lot on the point of view.
–Yes, but...
–If you think solely on the point of choosing to be sad, it is more of a sacrifice that may not bring anything. Or you can see it as I see...
Her eyes were staring at his. He seemed different saying these things. The curiosity in those eyes shadowed the huge scar.
–...It is more like a war. And defeating it would be an achievement. If it chose me for, I don't know, being the best generator it could find, then perhaps I am the only one who could be up to the challenge. It is weird to say those words, it is not like being full of myself. I guess it is more in the sense of having to see it as something I can do, so I don't give up.
–It is a strange concept to me. But if thinking that makes you feel better... I just think that it may not be a wise move.
–I was never much the wise type.
She smiled.
–I could see that on the first day!
–Aw, come on! I was taken by surprise!
The smile faded a little.
–Yeah, I know...
He saw a glance of the face she made that day. How could he say anything about that day without referring to the scar. The eternal sad smile that tore her cheeks.
–But you know, I'm very glad that I had that day. Not only because I had a small victory against my fear, can't say I truly overcame it. But, Daven did one good thing. Sometimes I'd wait for the night to come just for the chance of having such a nice company.
She stared at him with a face that is hard to describe. It was like a void. Like someone who isn't sad but has no way to react to what just happened.
–I know this is quite weird, but I'm glad you're here.
The eyes turned downwards. He wondered if everything was okay. But before he could ask, she started.
–It is good to hear that. But you must remember that there is also the company of your friends. They can walk by your side all the time, not just at night.
–I know, but...
A tear made a small circle on the sofa.
–Thank you.
He looked at her hair. That was not how he expected it would be. Those were some strange days...
–I have a request for you.
–Sure! What is it?
–Do not choose to weaken it by torturing yourself.
–But I won't torture myself, I'll just...
–DO NOT!
He leaned backwards.
–I... Well, okay... I just don't know any other way...
–You'll figure out. But promise me you won't go through any of those you mentioned.
–I...
She raised her head. Her eyes were closed, forming a strangely happy smile, as if it was forced. As if it hurt.
–Because I promise that if you choose to go through any of those two, I will come for you.
His heart raced.
–I... Promise. I won't do that.
Her face went back to normal.
–Good. Now, let's go for a walk.
–A walk?
–Yes. Let's walk around the city, I know you enjoy that.
–You sure?
–Yes. Let's generate much more energy than he could ever think about draining this night.
His thoughts blanked.
–We won't be sleeping this Saturday. Go get ready.
Trying to hide the grin, he nodded and walked to the bedroom. But one thought then made its way through.
–Isn't it dangerous to walk around the city at night? I mean, it is not very safe and all...
She couldn't believe he worried about that. It sounded so silly it was funny.
–Hahaha, unsafe? Are you really worried about that?
–Oh, yeah, I forgot...
A week had passed.
The plane tickets were bought. His friend was preparing their schedule. Those would be two weeks on the United Kingdom. Those would be two weeks travelling through the country visiting castles and seeing impressive landscapes. Two weeks without worrying about whatever bothered him in his daily routine.
But it worried it.
And thus it came on his sleep.
He was used to waking up in the middle of the night. And so he did, and sat on the edge of the bed.
–We have been busy these last days, haven't we?
And darkness grew.
quarta-feira, 2 de dezembro de 2015
Paradise
I like it here. Very, very much. It makes me wonder...
There's so much you should be told. So much I think about, so much you could think about. What goes through your mind? Are you as crazy as me?
Have you ever felt like digging your own grave? And you notice it but you can't stop anymore because it is what you do? Or because when you look at it, it looks so beautiful. You decorated it with all the details you'd want to have around... And now it looks like home.
It feels like digging graves, looking around for you. Because it is hard for me not to care about what people say, I know it is not a good habit but these die hard.
Sometimes I think things that look awesome, but then they seem to somehow disappear in this ocean.
If only you could see all I'm seeing. And perhaps if I could see what you see, then maybe. Maybe, right?
I'm holding paradise right now, but not like I was a few weeks ago. The needy part of me won't override this, even if I feel miserable, I'm holding. And it is awesome. I will work hard enough to get paradise again, and we'll make sure the tables are turned by the end of the year.
I still feel these tears trying to get out, and it is hard to keep aware of reality. But we're making some progress down here. And you...
Perhaps you're worth the dig. Worth the risk. Maybe you will like paradise.
quinta-feira, 19 de novembro de 2015
Raindrops
Damn man, I should be sleeping. But I don't wanna sleep.
I don't like this feeling. It's like, feeling alone.
I have to man up and talk to people. I have to talk to people. I need to get out of this.
To be honest, I'd just like to lie my head on someone's lap and close my eyes.
I can't cry anymore, the time for that is long gone now.
I am a selfish thing that has a lot of things but grieve for those I haven't.
I see you right there, I know you're on my side. I thank you for that. Every message you send feels like a star shines somewhere in the darkness. Don't you worry, I'll keep on fighting. But I'm too weak. You know, I still think about her. Despite all I was told. I have to try harder. I don't want to be one of those people that cannot be helped.
I don't want.
I think I'm growing bitter. And envious.
Could I please just lie my head on your lap for a while? I promise I won't speak a thing. I won't bombard you with negativity.
At least it is sealed within.
This all feels silly.
I can only offer money in return I guess. Don't take it as an offense. That's all I've got. It makes the bad thoughts go away for a while. Think of it as my time. One of the most precious things I could have.
I feel drained.
I don't like this feeling. It's like, feeling alone.
I have to man up and talk to people. I have to talk to people. I need to get out of this.
To be honest, I'd just like to lie my head on someone's lap and close my eyes.
I can't cry anymore, the time for that is long gone now.
I am a selfish thing that has a lot of things but grieve for those I haven't.
I see you right there, I know you're on my side. I thank you for that. Every message you send feels like a star shines somewhere in the darkness. Don't you worry, I'll keep on fighting. But I'm too weak. You know, I still think about her. Despite all I was told. I have to try harder. I don't want to be one of those people that cannot be helped.
I don't want.
I think I'm growing bitter. And envious.
Could I please just lie my head on your lap for a while? I promise I won't speak a thing. I won't bombard you with negativity.
At least it is sealed within.
This all feels silly.
I can only offer money in return I guess. Don't take it as an offense. That's all I've got. It makes the bad thoughts go away for a while. Think of it as my time. One of the most precious things I could have.
I feel drained.
terça-feira, 17 de novembro de 2015
Gift, part 10
He stared at her, no response other than that. Inside his head he wondered if she would just turn the back on him and leave, due to his lack of words, or come even closer demanding for an explanation. In the end, both options frightened enough. And motionless, he remained.
Facing that expressionless aspect, she stood still. Perhaps an explanation was too much to ask for.
But then again, what was there to explain?
To him, those words did not lie. They might not have brought it all to surface, as she was some sort of spirit after all. And pretty much some sort of undead too. "Smiley" was the word in the sentence that made his innards crawl. It almost sounded as some sort of mockery to her pain. He wished he didn't care, but it felt pretty bad since he couldn't forget that she had endured being by side for many nights.
She wasn't real. As in "circle" real. But she was better than it. At least it was easier to relate than with Daven. And why the hell would it tell her about that? Revenge? Didn't look like the behavior he witnessed for a good part of his life. Still, it was acting a bit differently. More distant, more... aggressive? He didn't know if that was the word.
That wasn't important for now anyway, he had to say something to her. Anguish grew as he looked at her and no words seemed to be useful.
He could say "sorry", but he always believed that was something stupid to say. Saying you're sorry does not fix things. You need something more, something that really proves you would do differently, or do anything to make that go away if you had the chance. But there was a chance that was too much of an utopical behavior. And resources were too scarce for making it happen.
He could say he didn't mean it, but that would also be a lie. Even if it was in a situation he meant it, that didn't mean he thought it everytime. But that was also too shallow.
"To be honest, to be really, really honest?"
–Thank you for the company...
Her eyes opened wider, as if she couldn't believe that was the reaction to that moment.
–I really have gotten nothing that feels worthy of saying so... If you've got to leave I can only understand, but it is better to show some gratitude before...
It felt like giving up, it felt stupid. But he couldn't counter his thoughts. Once again, he had to take a stand for himself and all that came out were ideas of not being able to withstand the task.
–That's all...?
–Pretty much...
–No apologies?
–I didn't think of a way that felt like really fixing it.
–Sometimes there is no way of fixing what was done.
–But there has to always be a way to make those you wronged feel better.
–That may not fix it, though.
–I don't know, I just... Couldn't find the right words. But I didn't want to stay silent all the way.
–That would have been even more foolish of you.
He lowered his head, acknowledging.
At least he said something. Most of the time when these conflicts came by, he'd just listen. While listening can be thought of as a virtue, words have got to be spoken.
–So, take care.
–Take care?
–Well, yes. I'm not sure what harms are there in this world for... you.
She frowned. The scar dwindled, forming a small drop of blood near the lower lip.
–For things like me? There aren't many but, I appreciate your concern.
–I didn't mean to say anything like that now, I know that what was said can't be taken away.
–You still have so much to learn...
–What...?
–I wonder if you are this naive, because of your own essence, or because it made you grow this way in order to have control over your energy.
–So, it is not here now. Why don't YOU teach me anything, if I'm so lost down here?
Deep down he felt angry. It was hard to actually argument and to justify but, most of the times he never cared. Anger felt good. And even though he had made a mistake before, that did not justify her acting like that. It didn't, right?
–That would be a worthless effort. You are still too used to relying on its protection. No matter how bad things get, you don't actually get to act much, do you? You just do something small, and thing of it as a grand, heroic effort. As that meant you are now another person, and things will change. But nothing changes.
–Wh...?
She walked closer. Slowly, always facing him.
–He managed to control you after all. Must have been real easy.
–Just what is wrong with you?!
–I will talk to it as soon as possible. He will find you another companion, one that does not get bothered by being obliged to tag along someone so...
–So what?!
She lowered her body in order to talk closely to his ear. Her voice was now pure despise. Sitting on the bed, his head rushed between asking what was going on and a constantly increasing rage.
–So easy to fool. It gets clear that what she did was the only option. She can step on you and then ask for help whenever she needs, because that's what you're useful for.
Sometimes a split second is all it is needed for a spark to bring down an entire building.
He had been very good at holding it back, when people mistreated him. It wasn't always like that. He learned it within the years. But sometimes this past danced in the void.
A child barely taking another off the ground, by pulling her hair. The eyes getting reddish, breathing in gushes. She had tripped in the joystick wires, the Super Nintendo dashed forward while she fell. The game stopped. Nervous she apologized, but knew he'd get angry. Trying to control herself, she laughed. He blanked.
The next second he wasn't sitting in the floor anymore. It didn't last for long, but it lasted enough for the night to follow in silence. No one spoke a word until the morning came.
So many more...
A child falling off a tower of plastic chairs. One hitting an iron pilaster. Both losing deciduous teeth. A mechanical pencil cutting the skin of a boy who poked him even after telling to stop three times. All the punches, slaps, threats. It was all too fast.
It had stopped. He knew the consequences. Might have taken a dozen years, but it was done. Still, there was always that little voice somewhere asking for more. It felt so good.
He breathed heavily, interruptedly. His hand on her knife, her hand on his wrist. He grabbed it faster than he thought he could realize. His right cheek was wet. The eyes getting red, the right one wept. It wasn't right.
But it felt right.
Consciously he forced his arm in order to let go. She looked serious, that mocking tone had faded away.
Yet the voice in his head asked for her blood, she deserved it. It repeated that he was a loser and that everyone laughed at him. But it could be changed. All he had to do was follow that incredible feeling.
But it wouldn't be right to hurt her.
That thought shimmered in the storm. Hard to take notice.
He grinned, now thinking of all the things he had to fix in his life. It wasn't fair to blame her for that, but it couldn't be helped.
Her grip was still strong. Lowering the body once again to get closer, and knowing it would become each time harder to hold that hand begging for blood, she started to speak. The distance between the blade and the neck lessened.
–I know you are very angry now. And that was my goal.
Very close.
–You will have to believe me. It made me see the last night, I saw what you said, and the entire discussion. But I noticed something while seeing that through his eyes, it got weaker. When your anger goes out of control it can't see your thoughts, it is unable to drain you. I believe it show me that in order to create a conflict, even though it does not get to take much advantage of you when you are sad, it does not get at bay.
The blade now touched her neck. Just a little bit more until it could enter.
Just a little bit more, and she will pay.
–Now, I know those things may bring you down, but it was the only way...
A small drop of blood formed. Her voice got weak and unsteady.
–Listen to me...
He could hear, but it was hard to reason. Each time he realized that wasn't right, the voice came with a bigger flood of violent thoughts. He knew he might regret that, but it was just too hard to step back. He could never go back, he held too much to just let them go away. They all had to pay. They all would pay. Things weren't going well, but he would make it better. Alone, for alone he wouldn't have to worry about others. And he wouldn't have to relate to anyone, deal with the harsh parts of friendships. And if she was right, not even Daven would be a problem anymore. For it wouldn't be anymore. Nothing would be.
A gentle touch covered his cheek.
–Thank you for the company, too.
She didn't take any step back also.
The storm exploded. And in the aftermath, when senses came back, their foreheads touched each other, the knife was shaking alongside his hand. Her hand still covered his cheek. Blood flowed timidly.
Facing that expressionless aspect, she stood still. Perhaps an explanation was too much to ask for.
But then again, what was there to explain?
To him, those words did not lie. They might not have brought it all to surface, as she was some sort of spirit after all. And pretty much some sort of undead too. "Smiley" was the word in the sentence that made his innards crawl. It almost sounded as some sort of mockery to her pain. He wished he didn't care, but it felt pretty bad since he couldn't forget that she had endured being by side for many nights.
She wasn't real. As in "circle" real. But she was better than it. At least it was easier to relate than with Daven. And why the hell would it tell her about that? Revenge? Didn't look like the behavior he witnessed for a good part of his life. Still, it was acting a bit differently. More distant, more... aggressive? He didn't know if that was the word.
That wasn't important for now anyway, he had to say something to her. Anguish grew as he looked at her and no words seemed to be useful.
He could say "sorry", but he always believed that was something stupid to say. Saying you're sorry does not fix things. You need something more, something that really proves you would do differently, or do anything to make that go away if you had the chance. But there was a chance that was too much of an utopical behavior. And resources were too scarce for making it happen.
He could say he didn't mean it, but that would also be a lie. Even if it was in a situation he meant it, that didn't mean he thought it everytime. But that was also too shallow.
"To be honest, to be really, really honest?"
–Thank you for the company...
Her eyes opened wider, as if she couldn't believe that was the reaction to that moment.
–I really have gotten nothing that feels worthy of saying so... If you've got to leave I can only understand, but it is better to show some gratitude before...
It felt like giving up, it felt stupid. But he couldn't counter his thoughts. Once again, he had to take a stand for himself and all that came out were ideas of not being able to withstand the task.
–That's all...?
–Pretty much...
–No apologies?
–I didn't think of a way that felt like really fixing it.
–Sometimes there is no way of fixing what was done.
–But there has to always be a way to make those you wronged feel better.
–That may not fix it, though.
–I don't know, I just... Couldn't find the right words. But I didn't want to stay silent all the way.
–That would have been even more foolish of you.
He lowered his head, acknowledging.
At least he said something. Most of the time when these conflicts came by, he'd just listen. While listening can be thought of as a virtue, words have got to be spoken.
–So, take care.
–Take care?
–Well, yes. I'm not sure what harms are there in this world for... you.
She frowned. The scar dwindled, forming a small drop of blood near the lower lip.
–For things like me? There aren't many but, I appreciate your concern.
–I didn't mean to say anything like that now, I know that what was said can't be taken away.
–You still have so much to learn...
–What...?
–I wonder if you are this naive, because of your own essence, or because it made you grow this way in order to have control over your energy.
–So, it is not here now. Why don't YOU teach me anything, if I'm so lost down here?
Deep down he felt angry. It was hard to actually argument and to justify but, most of the times he never cared. Anger felt good. And even though he had made a mistake before, that did not justify her acting like that. It didn't, right?
–That would be a worthless effort. You are still too used to relying on its protection. No matter how bad things get, you don't actually get to act much, do you? You just do something small, and thing of it as a grand, heroic effort. As that meant you are now another person, and things will change. But nothing changes.
–Wh...?
She walked closer. Slowly, always facing him.
–He managed to control you after all. Must have been real easy.
–Just what is wrong with you?!
–I will talk to it as soon as possible. He will find you another companion, one that does not get bothered by being obliged to tag along someone so...
–So what?!
She lowered her body in order to talk closely to his ear. Her voice was now pure despise. Sitting on the bed, his head rushed between asking what was going on and a constantly increasing rage.
–So easy to fool. It gets clear that what she did was the only option. She can step on you and then ask for help whenever she needs, because that's what you're useful for.
Sometimes a split second is all it is needed for a spark to bring down an entire building.
He had been very good at holding it back, when people mistreated him. It wasn't always like that. He learned it within the years. But sometimes this past danced in the void.
A child barely taking another off the ground, by pulling her hair. The eyes getting reddish, breathing in gushes. She had tripped in the joystick wires, the Super Nintendo dashed forward while she fell. The game stopped. Nervous she apologized, but knew he'd get angry. Trying to control herself, she laughed. He blanked.
The next second he wasn't sitting in the floor anymore. It didn't last for long, but it lasted enough for the night to follow in silence. No one spoke a word until the morning came.
So many more...
A child falling off a tower of plastic chairs. One hitting an iron pilaster. Both losing deciduous teeth. A mechanical pencil cutting the skin of a boy who poked him even after telling to stop three times. All the punches, slaps, threats. It was all too fast.
It had stopped. He knew the consequences. Might have taken a dozen years, but it was done. Still, there was always that little voice somewhere asking for more. It felt so good.
He breathed heavily, interruptedly. His hand on her knife, her hand on his wrist. He grabbed it faster than he thought he could realize. His right cheek was wet. The eyes getting red, the right one wept. It wasn't right.
But it felt right.
Consciously he forced his arm in order to let go. She looked serious, that mocking tone had faded away.
Yet the voice in his head asked for her blood, she deserved it. It repeated that he was a loser and that everyone laughed at him. But it could be changed. All he had to do was follow that incredible feeling.
But it wouldn't be right to hurt her.
That thought shimmered in the storm. Hard to take notice.
He grinned, now thinking of all the things he had to fix in his life. It wasn't fair to blame her for that, but it couldn't be helped.
Her grip was still strong. Lowering the body once again to get closer, and knowing it would become each time harder to hold that hand begging for blood, she started to speak. The distance between the blade and the neck lessened.
–I know you are very angry now. And that was my goal.
Very close.
–You will have to believe me. It made me see the last night, I saw what you said, and the entire discussion. But I noticed something while seeing that through his eyes, it got weaker. When your anger goes out of control it can't see your thoughts, it is unable to drain you. I believe it show me that in order to create a conflict, even though it does not get to take much advantage of you when you are sad, it does not get at bay.
The blade now touched her neck. Just a little bit more until it could enter.
Just a little bit more, and she will pay.
–Now, I know those things may bring you down, but it was the only way...
A small drop of blood formed. Her voice got weak and unsteady.
–Listen to me...
He could hear, but it was hard to reason. Each time he realized that wasn't right, the voice came with a bigger flood of violent thoughts. He knew he might regret that, but it was just too hard to step back. He could never go back, he held too much to just let them go away. They all had to pay. They all would pay. Things weren't going well, but he would make it better. Alone, for alone he wouldn't have to worry about others. And he wouldn't have to relate to anyone, deal with the harsh parts of friendships. And if she was right, not even Daven would be a problem anymore. For it wouldn't be anymore. Nothing would be.
A gentle touch covered his cheek.
–Thank you for the company, too.
She didn't take any step back also.
The storm exploded. And in the aftermath, when senses came back, their foreheads touched each other, the knife was shaking alongside his hand. Her hand still covered his cheek. Blood flowed timidly.
quarta-feira, 11 de novembro de 2015
I can't really tell if this is the moment you run away
Today I had a very weird dream and I saw children dying in horrible ways. It is not relevant. I also saw a friend that can't be called friend anymore because we failed each other, trying to send me an email. I couldn't see the content and that is damn frustrating until now.
I am going back and forth. Every time I see a beautiful girl it brings me down, everything sex-related devastates my mind, and when people tell me I should do this or that in order to talk to some girl it is a major failure. Perhaps this fear has already been absorbed as to become a part of me.
What stands in the light is the fact that this is driving me insane. I'm not sure anymore I want to fight back. Maybe... Nothing. There's nothing. I just need to take some time to rearm. Get away from people. Avoid drinking. And sleep.
Make the bad thoughts go away.
By burning or by bleeding.
But make my face beautiful.
For scarred I am.
And don't ever let me wake up.
By hunting or by killing.
But hug me upon failure.
For scarred you will be.
Deep down we are all clowns.
segunda-feira, 9 de novembro de 2015
Kiss your loved ones goodbye
I... Believe, no. I hope... That all these strange thoughts about fixing things are the result of being too tired. I don't really understand when am I tired. I have serious problems with things that have to be felt. Perhaps all the times my mood just flopped badly at the end of travels were just, being tired. I don't know.
Some things I read and try to think help to amend this. But for the first time burning places down made some strange sense. Maybe I'm just tired, right?
Things will get better.
I'll find a way.
P.S: if you get to read this, don't worry. I promise to finish the story at all costs. It has been hard to write because of my travels, I just wrote this for I needed to take it out of my head. As ridiculous as it seems, being in Vegas has a very bad side effect in me.
Some things I read and try to think help to amend this. But for the first time burning places down made some strange sense. Maybe I'm just tired, right?
Things will get better.
I'll find a way.
P.S: if you get to read this, don't worry. I promise to finish the story at all costs. It has been hard to write because of my travels, I just wrote this for I needed to take it out of my head. As ridiculous as it seems, being in Vegas has a very bad side effect in me.
sexta-feira, 6 de novembro de 2015
Being late is being me
Can I give you a hug?
Ahn... sure...
I've done something today. I know this might look a little bit stupid, or silly, or whatever you may call it...
It's been a long time since I last took the first step onto these kind of things. Going straight to the point, I held a girl's hand at the movies. Sounds like something that should have been done a good dozen years later. I'm aware of that, but better start later than never, right?
It was almost as what I heard for years and years, not that much technical but the basics are pretty much there. It was fun. Like... being out there in the field, knowing that every next step can be make or break, it's hard to calculate probabilities. It's... good.
I'd rather not go much longer on this one since I have to sleep soon.
It doesn't matter if you're the only one cheering for something, as long as it is something.
Ahn... sure...
I've done something today. I know this might look a little bit stupid, or silly, or whatever you may call it...
It's been a long time since I last took the first step onto these kind of things. Going straight to the point, I held a girl's hand at the movies. Sounds like something that should have been done a good dozen years later. I'm aware of that, but better start later than never, right?
It was almost as what I heard for years and years, not that much technical but the basics are pretty much there. It was fun. Like... being out there in the field, knowing that every next step can be make or break, it's hard to calculate probabilities. It's... good.
I'd rather not go much longer on this one since I have to sleep soon.
It doesn't matter if you're the only one cheering for something, as long as it is something.
terça-feira, 3 de novembro de 2015
Days of sulfur
Today was a strange day...
Why? What happened?
I don't know why... but I feel this strange bad feeling.
Is it related to something that happened in the past?
Not sure... there's probably a connection. You know... when it feels like the world got darker, and things don't seem to make much sense anymore. You just want to... disappear somehow.
Is that why you're hiding here?
Uh-huh...
I see... well... why don't you ask for help?
I don't feel like I have the prerogative for such. I've used help too much already.
That is something hard to define. But if...
And I am aware that I am easily irritated no.
Hm...
I wanted to stay in silence...
It doesn't look like that.
What do you mean?
You're talking to me now and you look okay, it's not like I am pissing you off. And you, although acting kinda silly, ain't treating me any bad.
It's just that... I think I'm getting very needy too... my head is going to explode anytime. But I enjoy your company.
Can I enter there then?
Ah... I guess...
Don't worry, we'll be in silence together.
I'm having a hard time managing my life.
And my life has been somewhat easy.
I guess that's just because we were pretty used to the easy mode. Taking things to the next level brought us to our knees. I wonder if alone is easier to get back up.
I won't lie, sometimes I fantasize about someone coming and solving everything. It's like... going delusional.
These are periods of short fuse. It's funny because I deposit hope in some people, and I know it's kinda unfair to them.
It is normal to have thoughts about disappearing right?
I was trying to hold back all these stories because I know that daydreaming can't save one from his shadows. But I guess it is... okay. Maybe I'm just quitting the fight like my head says so daily. I don't know, at least that is healthier than liters of alcohol.
Can I... can I hold your hand?
Oh...
If that doesn't bother you, that is. I don't know why, I just feel like maybe things get easier if we tag along.
Sure.
'Cause I think that right now I am going right into darkness, but it can't get you. I won't let it. And if I keep holding your hand, at least I know how to escape it. So... what I ask of you is, will you be my beacon?
Why? What happened?
I don't know why... but I feel this strange bad feeling.
Is it related to something that happened in the past?
Not sure... there's probably a connection. You know... when it feels like the world got darker, and things don't seem to make much sense anymore. You just want to... disappear somehow.
Is that why you're hiding here?
Uh-huh...
I see... well... why don't you ask for help?
I don't feel like I have the prerogative for such. I've used help too much already.
That is something hard to define. But if...
And I am aware that I am easily irritated no.
Hm...
I wanted to stay in silence...
It doesn't look like that.
What do you mean?
You're talking to me now and you look okay, it's not like I am pissing you off. And you, although acting kinda silly, ain't treating me any bad.
It's just that... I think I'm getting very needy too... my head is going to explode anytime. But I enjoy your company.
Can I enter there then?
Ah... I guess...
Don't worry, we'll be in silence together.
I'm having a hard time managing my life.
And my life has been somewhat easy.
I guess that's just because we were pretty used to the easy mode. Taking things to the next level brought us to our knees. I wonder if alone is easier to get back up.
I won't lie, sometimes I fantasize about someone coming and solving everything. It's like... going delusional.
These are periods of short fuse. It's funny because I deposit hope in some people, and I know it's kinda unfair to them.
It is normal to have thoughts about disappearing right?
I was trying to hold back all these stories because I know that daydreaming can't save one from his shadows. But I guess it is... okay. Maybe I'm just quitting the fight like my head says so daily. I don't know, at least that is healthier than liters of alcohol.
Can I... can I hold your hand?
Oh...
If that doesn't bother you, that is. I don't know why, I just feel like maybe things get easier if we tag along.
Sure.
'Cause I think that right now I am going right into darkness, but it can't get you. I won't let it. And if I keep holding your hand, at least I know how to escape it. So... what I ask of you is, will you be my beacon?
quarta-feira, 28 de outubro de 2015
Gift, part 9
The eyes locked at him.
Walking, walking. Dripping, dripping.
I stand asleep.
There's no one awake at night.
Small blobs formed on the floor, red so dark it seemed false.
Sometimes I dream strange things. I guess everyone does. But do they dream as often as... daily?
That was a piece of advice you were given. Yet, this happens.
He smiled upon the possibilities of what could happen. There were so many possible places to start the incision. All that flesh standing right there, innocently waiting to be tore up. The soft touch of human skin... Slowly opening a path for the blade... The initial moments in which the only sign of entrance is the shy spot of blood that forms around. Like a crowd observing curiously as their neighbor's home gets demolished.
I've dreamt of bad things before. As everyone at least once did. You see, bad things are when it feels real and you wake up soaked in sweat, scared, with the heart exploding. Those times in which you get desperate and can't really rationalize anymore. Even if you know it is a dream, can you... Face it?
Together, always. Somehow.
The blade going up in an arc. The walls painted. A rushed brush that leaves imperfect marks. Like lollipops. Red and decided. Flowing downwards. His hand shaked, the corridor seemed unending. Yet the bedroom was just a few steps ahead. The screams exploded in his head, all those fancy sounds and the painting. He held back the need to laugh. A deranged smile tainted the face, almost as if his head tried to turn inside out through the mouth. From his hand to the floor, it fell in chunks that burst on the floor, something between solid and liquid.
Like, sometimes you feel like you are really going to die. How close have you ever been to death? Have you ever looked it in the eyes and felt it doesn't give a shit about you?
Sometimes it is good to watch how far can things go.
There he was.
But don't worry about that. Things are always the same, until you need 'em to be the same, don't you think?
Let things go until the limits. It is important to show enemies that no matter how close they get to victory, they will never achieve it.
The trail of blood was now a continuous line with thicker parts. The hand raised in the air and went down slowly. The edge walked through the chest, yet it barely touched it. He wondered how could it start. His eyes were barely visible now obscured by a grin that looked painful to bear.
I hear footsteps when I sleep. I hear they walking in the corridor. Talking. It is too easy to let hours of rest go.
Sometimes they just do not have what it takes to take the leap of faith.
That little boy, holding his breath in surprise when he woke up to that scrawny figure holding a deformed knife above him. Right above his eyes. The blade went down just as much as to poke the eyeball. That mouth opened with no sound coming, that was even better than screaming. Even better. The body trying to move when it was too late, the stiff muscles, somehow trying to get away from the bed. So young. Poked to death in a vile frenzy.
It has been like that for as long as I remember...
Or do they?
He needed it. The frenzy. The feeling of overpowering someone. Assaulting them when they are most fragile. Bleeding their bodies dry. His eye blinked fast. The arm suddenly swung up prepared to rip that one to shreds.
I wonder if, someday, when I need to wake up because my life depended on that, will that change?
Impressive. He really made it this far. How obnoxious of him.
His hand delved into nowhere. There was just darkness ahead of him. Wondering where did the human go, he took his hand close to the chest. It all started to feel weird. His mind tried to understand but his need to cut flesh couldn't allow reason. Like a spoiled child that had the favorite toy taken away, he screamed. What seemed to be a small hand entered through his mouth. He couldn't see it, but he also couldn't close his mouth anymore. Trying to let the air pass exclusively through the nose, he moved back to the door.
Have you ever wondered about the things that happen when you sleep? If perhaps the darkness came alive?
Too easy.
It felt like a sledgehammer had just hit his cheeks from inside. A painful blow that later took him back inside the room. Suddenly, he could close his mouth once again, but half his face seemed to be crumbling. Blood flowed through his cheeks as he stood up. He finally realized what had he just done. But it was too late. Dizzy, he walked back to the door, mumbling words that begged for forgiveness. The vision blurred. Something looked at him curiously. After three steps backwards, he fell.
I know this might be silly, but, what if, right?
How long can you last?
With the vision recovered, he saw the figure in the darkness watching him. He tried to get back up, but it was futile. His pants were getting strangely wet. It turned reddish. The eyes now stared close by, he tried not to look at them but fingers forced his eyes open. And somehow inside those eyes he saw a tiny hand, entering through a mouth. The hand became thinner and thinner, as it went deeper. The walls were moving, beating. Suddenly, spikes sprung around the arm, making small holes in those walls. And it went like that all the way down. When it ended, he realized. But consciousness was something he had not anymore. And blood soaked the floor.
Like right now, there's this old bony corpse right at my bedroom's door.
–Just what the fuck is going on?!
–Do not worry, he cannot harm you anymore.
–Who is he?!
–He was... Some other entity that took notice of you.
–Of me?! Why?!
–You know why. Remember what she told you at the elevator?
He gasped. Was it there? There was light inside the elevator, he couldn't be there.
–Exactly. That was a lame trick. I knew there was something wrong. You acted strange.
–So it is true, you're just, using me somehow.
–That does not make me justice. I see it as a deal. Your energy moves me, and I bring you company.
–I don't need no company.
–Oh, really? You seem to forget what passed through your head all these years.
–I can be ok by myself.
–That is not over the table now. Also, you purposely forget how you are always uncomfortable in the presence of your fellow... Humans.
–Not always, I have the circle!
–You had it! But they got their own lives! And you get angry because you are a spoiled child, you wanted more of them! I can give you more!
–More?! You bring me undead smiley spirits as company! I don't NEED IT!
Knocks on the door.
–Are you okay? What is going on?!
Parents...
His parents were worried about him. But he did not know any way to end that. They didn't talk too much, just the ordinary. There seemed to be way too many things to think and that made his head hurt. There was she, but she was dating another guy now and he had to take her out of his head. There were things he had to study, yet it seemed that the university would go on a strike. There was... Daven. And some of his friends already stated that there seemed to be an abyss around him, no one could come close by.
He looked at the ceiling all Saturday. Until the night came and with it, something more to trouble his thoughts.
–Smiley spirit?
–What?!
He turned over to see who bothered him.
She looked sad. Yet the forced smile on her face was still present.
Walking, walking. Dripping, dripping.
I stand asleep.
There's no one awake at night.
Small blobs formed on the floor, red so dark it seemed false.
Sometimes I dream strange things. I guess everyone does. But do they dream as often as... daily?
That was a piece of advice you were given. Yet, this happens.
He smiled upon the possibilities of what could happen. There were so many possible places to start the incision. All that flesh standing right there, innocently waiting to be tore up. The soft touch of human skin... Slowly opening a path for the blade... The initial moments in which the only sign of entrance is the shy spot of blood that forms around. Like a crowd observing curiously as their neighbor's home gets demolished.
I've dreamt of bad things before. As everyone at least once did. You see, bad things are when it feels real and you wake up soaked in sweat, scared, with the heart exploding. Those times in which you get desperate and can't really rationalize anymore. Even if you know it is a dream, can you... Face it?
Together, always. Somehow.
The blade going up in an arc. The walls painted. A rushed brush that leaves imperfect marks. Like lollipops. Red and decided. Flowing downwards. His hand shaked, the corridor seemed unending. Yet the bedroom was just a few steps ahead. The screams exploded in his head, all those fancy sounds and the painting. He held back the need to laugh. A deranged smile tainted the face, almost as if his head tried to turn inside out through the mouth. From his hand to the floor, it fell in chunks that burst on the floor, something between solid and liquid.
Like, sometimes you feel like you are really going to die. How close have you ever been to death? Have you ever looked it in the eyes and felt it doesn't give a shit about you?
Sometimes it is good to watch how far can things go.
There he was.
But don't worry about that. Things are always the same, until you need 'em to be the same, don't you think?
Let things go until the limits. It is important to show enemies that no matter how close they get to victory, they will never achieve it.
The trail of blood was now a continuous line with thicker parts. The hand raised in the air and went down slowly. The edge walked through the chest, yet it barely touched it. He wondered how could it start. His eyes were barely visible now obscured by a grin that looked painful to bear.
I hear footsteps when I sleep. I hear they walking in the corridor. Talking. It is too easy to let hours of rest go.
Sometimes they just do not have what it takes to take the leap of faith.
That little boy, holding his breath in surprise when he woke up to that scrawny figure holding a deformed knife above him. Right above his eyes. The blade went down just as much as to poke the eyeball. That mouth opened with no sound coming, that was even better than screaming. Even better. The body trying to move when it was too late, the stiff muscles, somehow trying to get away from the bed. So young. Poked to death in a vile frenzy.
It has been like that for as long as I remember...
Or do they?
He needed it. The frenzy. The feeling of overpowering someone. Assaulting them when they are most fragile. Bleeding their bodies dry. His eye blinked fast. The arm suddenly swung up prepared to rip that one to shreds.
I wonder if, someday, when I need to wake up because my life depended on that, will that change?
Impressive. He really made it this far. How obnoxious of him.
His hand delved into nowhere. There was just darkness ahead of him. Wondering where did the human go, he took his hand close to the chest. It all started to feel weird. His mind tried to understand but his need to cut flesh couldn't allow reason. Like a spoiled child that had the favorite toy taken away, he screamed. What seemed to be a small hand entered through his mouth. He couldn't see it, but he also couldn't close his mouth anymore. Trying to let the air pass exclusively through the nose, he moved back to the door.
Have you ever wondered about the things that happen when you sleep? If perhaps the darkness came alive?
Too easy.
It felt like a sledgehammer had just hit his cheeks from inside. A painful blow that later took him back inside the room. Suddenly, he could close his mouth once again, but half his face seemed to be crumbling. Blood flowed through his cheeks as he stood up. He finally realized what had he just done. But it was too late. Dizzy, he walked back to the door, mumbling words that begged for forgiveness. The vision blurred. Something looked at him curiously. After three steps backwards, he fell.
I know this might be silly, but, what if, right?
How long can you last?
With the vision recovered, he saw the figure in the darkness watching him. He tried to get back up, but it was futile. His pants were getting strangely wet. It turned reddish. The eyes now stared close by, he tried not to look at them but fingers forced his eyes open. And somehow inside those eyes he saw a tiny hand, entering through a mouth. The hand became thinner and thinner, as it went deeper. The walls were moving, beating. Suddenly, spikes sprung around the arm, making small holes in those walls. And it went like that all the way down. When it ended, he realized. But consciousness was something he had not anymore. And blood soaked the floor.
Like right now, there's this old bony corpse right at my bedroom's door.
–Just what the fuck is going on?!
–Do not worry, he cannot harm you anymore.
–Who is he?!
–He was... Some other entity that took notice of you.
–Of me?! Why?!
–You know why. Remember what she told you at the elevator?
He gasped. Was it there? There was light inside the elevator, he couldn't be there.
–Exactly. That was a lame trick. I knew there was something wrong. You acted strange.
–So it is true, you're just, using me somehow.
–That does not make me justice. I see it as a deal. Your energy moves me, and I bring you company.
–I don't need no company.
–Oh, really? You seem to forget what passed through your head all these years.
–I can be ok by myself.
–That is not over the table now. Also, you purposely forget how you are always uncomfortable in the presence of your fellow... Humans.
–Not always, I have the circle!
–You had it! But they got their own lives! And you get angry because you are a spoiled child, you wanted more of them! I can give you more!
–More?! You bring me undead smiley spirits as company! I don't NEED IT!
Knocks on the door.
–Are you okay? What is going on?!
Parents...
His parents were worried about him. But he did not know any way to end that. They didn't talk too much, just the ordinary. There seemed to be way too many things to think and that made his head hurt. There was she, but she was dating another guy now and he had to take her out of his head. There were things he had to study, yet it seemed that the university would go on a strike. There was... Daven. And some of his friends already stated that there seemed to be an abyss around him, no one could come close by.
He looked at the ceiling all Saturday. Until the night came and with it, something more to trouble his thoughts.
–Smiley spirit?
–What?!
He turned over to see who bothered him.
She looked sad. Yet the forced smile on her face was still present.
terça-feira, 13 de outubro de 2015
At least... we got cicadas
Sleeping? Sleeping is hard.
I'm still working on part 9, it's a bit hard to find the right sequence of events to describe what comes next.
Too many stupid ideas going through my head. Thought that coming back to my city would make things get better but it seems it got worse.
We'll work that out. Somehow.
I'm still working on part 9, it's a bit hard to find the right sequence of events to describe what comes next.
Too many stupid ideas going through my head. Thought that coming back to my city would make things get better but it seems it got worse.
We'll work that out. Somehow.
quinta-feira, 8 de outubro de 2015
Do you remember the stars?
–Hello there.
–...
I walk through the cliff, the lake stays always visible down there. There's the hanging tree. The collector hasn't still taken the bodies. Dozens of bodies hanging on those heavy branches. A tree that looks dead but has never ever shown any sign of weakness. It's alive, holding death.
The bodies float through the lake, only visible if one pays enough attention. It scares to realize there's hundreds of bodies down there, a death without air, just water inside your lungs. The place is silent.
Some bodies lie mangled down the cliff, the final jump once can undertake. The leg bones rising through every other bone inside their bodies.
This place looks gruesome after the happenings. But it is a very beautiful and calm place. Perhaps that's why they chose here.
I watch the few ones that walk around, choosing their destinies. Choosing how to go away. Deciding whether that is the only option. I cannot judge them. Live your lives. For as long as that takes.
I like it here sometimes.
I feel someone coming closer. But I don't bother looking who is it. Even because I know who is it.
–What are you doing here?
–Just looking around.
–Here?
–Why not?
–Just look around. It's blatantly obvious why not.
–I feel like staying here for now.
–All these people feel the same way...
–Listen, I know it's not my time, and I don't feel like these people. I don't exactly know how do I feel. I just want to stay here.
–That's good to hear. I can see in you the same aura I see in the boys and girls that come here daily. But your eyes are different.
–That's irrelevant. You see, I avoided sadness and explicit melancholy for a long time. I just want to... "enjoy" that moment. No motivational messages, no rise and shine, no resilience. Just, take what has been given. And let time do its trick.
–Thought you were taking it fine that way.
–Thought that too. As it can be seen, didn't work so well.
–Well, enjoy the moment. If what you want is to find the melancholy that lies outside and see some kind of resonance with you, my best guess is that this is the place.
He gets up, using hands and legs.
–If there is anything I can help, you know where to look for. I gotta get the work done, look for the place with the highest body count.
–Dully noted.
This is not a place you fight back. Not somewhere you can end up by accident. There's no way in that is not by choice. And there's nothing inside for you, nothing you have to strive for.
I am aware this is not my place. But it seems right to spend some time in here.
Sometimes I will feel like I really wanted company. To just lie on the grass and watch the stars. This place is beautiful, but you can't drag people inside. That would be dishonest.
Some come, few go.
If I stare at the stars long enough, will my eyes shine too?
I feel sad.
This is sad.
And that's all there is for now.
No anger, no revenge, no fighting back.
Just me and this vast space that screams silence at the top of its lungs.
It feels good.
–...
I walk through the cliff, the lake stays always visible down there. There's the hanging tree. The collector hasn't still taken the bodies. Dozens of bodies hanging on those heavy branches. A tree that looks dead but has never ever shown any sign of weakness. It's alive, holding death.
The bodies float through the lake, only visible if one pays enough attention. It scares to realize there's hundreds of bodies down there, a death without air, just water inside your lungs. The place is silent.
Some bodies lie mangled down the cliff, the final jump once can undertake. The leg bones rising through every other bone inside their bodies.
This place looks gruesome after the happenings. But it is a very beautiful and calm place. Perhaps that's why they chose here.
I watch the few ones that walk around, choosing their destinies. Choosing how to go away. Deciding whether that is the only option. I cannot judge them. Live your lives. For as long as that takes.
I like it here sometimes.
I feel someone coming closer. But I don't bother looking who is it. Even because I know who is it.
–What are you doing here?
–Just looking around.
–Here?
–Why not?
–Just look around. It's blatantly obvious why not.
–I feel like staying here for now.
–All these people feel the same way...
–Listen, I know it's not my time, and I don't feel like these people. I don't exactly know how do I feel. I just want to stay here.
–That's good to hear. I can see in you the same aura I see in the boys and girls that come here daily. But your eyes are different.
–That's irrelevant. You see, I avoided sadness and explicit melancholy for a long time. I just want to... "enjoy" that moment. No motivational messages, no rise and shine, no resilience. Just, take what has been given. And let time do its trick.
–Thought you were taking it fine that way.
–Thought that too. As it can be seen, didn't work so well.
–Well, enjoy the moment. If what you want is to find the melancholy that lies outside and see some kind of resonance with you, my best guess is that this is the place.
He gets up, using hands and legs.
–If there is anything I can help, you know where to look for. I gotta get the work done, look for the place with the highest body count.
–Dully noted.
This is not a place you fight back. Not somewhere you can end up by accident. There's no way in that is not by choice. And there's nothing inside for you, nothing you have to strive for.
I am aware this is not my place. But it seems right to spend some time in here.
Sometimes I will feel like I really wanted company. To just lie on the grass and watch the stars. This place is beautiful, but you can't drag people inside. That would be dishonest.
Some come, few go.
If I stare at the stars long enough, will my eyes shine too?
I feel sad.
This is sad.
And that's all there is for now.
No anger, no revenge, no fighting back.
Just me and this vast space that screams silence at the top of its lungs.
It feels good.
sábado, 3 de outubro de 2015
Those topics that make us wanna kill
Just passing by to make sure you know that I'd like to see you all into pieces.
Burn.
sexta-feira, 2 de outubro de 2015
Gift, part 8
Up.
And down.
Like every single thing in life.
Sometimes people do things without questioning. He separated those moments into two groups, the group of those who do these things unconsciously, and the ones who do it because they cannot control their urges. The latter caused a hostile reaction on him. They looked like weak people and not very trustworthy, since they could not even control such things.
They were controlled by their emotions.
That was also one of the reasons he felt so angry at himself. All the times he did not control those basic parts of being human brought an extra piece to this fortress of anger he silently built inside.
But that is how life goes. Although aware of the need of letting things go, it wasn't done. The past was always there, maiming whatever he could reach up.
Rising.
And falling.
Whenever he came to realize the things he did, he felt uneasy. But it just felt so unreasonable to stop doing such things. Perhaps sometimes following reason was too much to bear.
The mirror stood there, back to back. Oftenly he would look at it, face consciousness about what seemed to be going on, and then wonder if the mirror could do anything that wasn't just a mimic of his acts.
The voice was familiar.
Ascend.
Descend.
One and a half hours had already passed. And there he was, inside that box of metal. Going once again all the way into the sixth floor.
He felt ridiculous. Why did he keep on doing such things? He remembered many of the useless activities he engaged. Always with some lame excuse, perhaps too afraid to stop and admit it had no point.
After all that time, the metallic box seemed to be getting tired. Sometimes the travel would take dozens of seconds, sometimes it felt like a jump, as if it used its last breath in order to achieve its goal. But it could be just the effects of long exposition to stupidity.
He stared at the other him beyong the mirror. Expecting some sort of clue, some sort of surprise. That which would change how the cards were played.
But there seemed to be no cards on the table.
Every single detail, the marks on the skin, the hair, the darkened surroundings of those eyes indicating that sleeping wasn't a very encouraged activity...
Those black eyes curiously looking back at his.
Sixth floor...
The door opened to an entailing light.
Normally lights turned on after you left the elevator. Motion sensors could not sense people inside it.
Before he turned to press the buttons and wander some more, a dashing body made its way in.
–Just keep the door closed.
–Sure...
–Closed at all times.
–Why?
–It is better that way.
She was speaking quickly, and quietly. Those last words were more like whispers.
His heart still pounded because of the surprise. He wondered why did she took so long, and why did it have to be in such a bizarre fashion.
All the lights inside the elevator were functioning. Every detail of that scarred face came to life. The places in which the blade did not slice gently protruded outwards. The pale skin deformed in small patches to accomodate that bizarre smile.
Somehow it still gave him shivers. But deep down there was this thought forcing itself as the dominant leader of the pack, saying that it was safe because she could be trusted.
–I suppose it is clear enough now.
She was strangely close.
–What for?
–Answers, remember?
–Answers...
–The answers you wanted yesterday.
–So, what is it? Are you guys spying my friends? There is a roster of things like you keeping tabs on them?
–Not that much. There are some more "things" like me, scattered around. Not too oftenly we bring some information to it. But it does not need us so much, darkness can watch by itself.
–Then did Daven tell you about my friends?
–I have seen some of them. Also, stop calling it Daven.
–So what do I call it?
Moving backwards, she looked confused. After a strange sigh, she came back.
–Daven, then. I haven't talked to it for some good days, it doesn't need us.
–Then we are back to the other question, did Daven give you that information?
–Yes. It gave me some of your background before the day we met. It did not look like it took too long to gather that data.
–Did Daven disappear as of lately because it is going after my friends?
–I don't think so.
He wondered. Maybe she just said that thing the day before to keep the topic, maybe she did not really know much about his friends. But it felt weird. So weird he had to hold his forehead with the right hand and close eyes, as if that made him concentrate enough to clarify thoughts.
Eyes closed.
All those times it said "Hello, boy".
The realization hit him like a truck, it was just a bunch of the things in his thoughts. Daven was inside whenever it wanted, as it seemed. It did not need to keep on watching over those people.
–I kind of wonder... Am I mad already?
–What do you mean?
–It lives inside my head.
–Daven?
–Daven.
She seemed surprised.
–Do you have any way to control it?
–None that I know about.
–Maybe it doesn't get access to everything.
–I can't tell.
–But that was to be expected.
–Why?
–It feeds on you. Therefore it gets to be closer and closer, and has to control its source.
–Feeds?
–Yes, never felt very, very tired for no reason?
–I...
He remembered all the times he felt so tired and just thought that it felt so because of the few hours of sleep between days. That could be just the lack of bedtime, couldn't it? It was the most logical answer.
–I did...
–And even though you barely sleep more than half of the recommended hours, some days you are feeling awesome, while in others it doesn't matter how much you sleep or with how much quality?
–Yes...
–That is because it is taking most of its energy from you. People normally don't last this long. It found one great feeder.
–So, it, Daven, is just, using me?
–Perhaps ever since you were a child.
–Where did it come from?
–Is that important?
–Of course it is, I need to know how can I fight back!
–Fight back?
–I don't want to feed it anymore.
–Well, that is one big problem. I am not sure humans fight back. Also, these things have some sort of interest in keeping their sources safe. Some thing in you is used to bring energy to it. Moreover, it is already known that a great feeder lies around.
–So, there are other... Davens...
–You can say so.
–And you, came with it.
–Yes, I did.
–Do you feed on me too?
His head felt dizzy. She was barely holding him now.
–Just a little. I get most of my energy from other ways.
–I'm not sure what to say.
–There is more. But you do not look good enough to hear it.
–I guess I need to sleep.
–You probably do.
She hugged him.
–Now, make sure it remains oblivious to this night.
–I'll try.
He stood against the corner, trying to understand what was going on.
She pressed the button back to the third floor.
Outside, the elevator pit was shrouded in pitch black darkness.
Sometimes people start to question reality. That is a part of being conscious. He wondered if he had gone truly mad. For some reason, now he just wanted to spend some time with his close friends. The humans that accompanied him during a big part of his life. He just wanted to be with them now, and forget all that nonsense.
But he also felt too weak to do anything like that. Whatever truck had hit him, it went for a critical strike. Her face caused a strange sensation now, something between the good feelings of having company in harsh times of sleep deprivation, and betrayal.
But the bed felt comfortable.
And a few dozen minutes later, he was fast asleep.
She left the bedroom, a bloodstained knife firmly held in one of her hands.
The open curtains showed the night outside. If he could look at it, and focus his eyes, he would notice that some specific branches weren't that bent anymore.
Whatever smiled from above them, now hid at the living room.
As soon as she left, it started moving.
A blade so grossly tortured by time and activity that it didn't even look like a cutting tool anymore. There were stains everywhere over its slender form.
The blade swinged in a diagonal arc, as if it cut an invisible body.
It was so eager for this moment. It was hard to control the anxiety, so the blade would swing for a few more times, some of which it stopped to praise what that would mean soon.
He slept beyond the quiet steps.
It smiled.
And down.
Like every single thing in life.
Sometimes people do things without questioning. He separated those moments into two groups, the group of those who do these things unconsciously, and the ones who do it because they cannot control their urges. The latter caused a hostile reaction on him. They looked like weak people and not very trustworthy, since they could not even control such things.
They were controlled by their emotions.
That was also one of the reasons he felt so angry at himself. All the times he did not control those basic parts of being human brought an extra piece to this fortress of anger he silently built inside.
But that is how life goes. Although aware of the need of letting things go, it wasn't done. The past was always there, maiming whatever he could reach up.
Rising.
And falling.
Whenever he came to realize the things he did, he felt uneasy. But it just felt so unreasonable to stop doing such things. Perhaps sometimes following reason was too much to bear.
The mirror stood there, back to back. Oftenly he would look at it, face consciousness about what seemed to be going on, and then wonder if the mirror could do anything that wasn't just a mimic of his acts.
The voice was familiar.
Ascend.
Descend.
One and a half hours had already passed. And there he was, inside that box of metal. Going once again all the way into the sixth floor.
He felt ridiculous. Why did he keep on doing such things? He remembered many of the useless activities he engaged. Always with some lame excuse, perhaps too afraid to stop and admit it had no point.
After all that time, the metallic box seemed to be getting tired. Sometimes the travel would take dozens of seconds, sometimes it felt like a jump, as if it used its last breath in order to achieve its goal. But it could be just the effects of long exposition to stupidity.
He stared at the other him beyong the mirror. Expecting some sort of clue, some sort of surprise. That which would change how the cards were played.
But there seemed to be no cards on the table.
Every single detail, the marks on the skin, the hair, the darkened surroundings of those eyes indicating that sleeping wasn't a very encouraged activity...
Those black eyes curiously looking back at his.
Sixth floor...
The door opened to an entailing light.
Normally lights turned on after you left the elevator. Motion sensors could not sense people inside it.
Before he turned to press the buttons and wander some more, a dashing body made its way in.
–Just keep the door closed.
–Sure...
–Closed at all times.
–Why?
–It is better that way.
She was speaking quickly, and quietly. Those last words were more like whispers.
His heart still pounded because of the surprise. He wondered why did she took so long, and why did it have to be in such a bizarre fashion.
All the lights inside the elevator were functioning. Every detail of that scarred face came to life. The places in which the blade did not slice gently protruded outwards. The pale skin deformed in small patches to accomodate that bizarre smile.
Somehow it still gave him shivers. But deep down there was this thought forcing itself as the dominant leader of the pack, saying that it was safe because she could be trusted.
–I suppose it is clear enough now.
She was strangely close.
–What for?
–Answers, remember?
–Answers...
–The answers you wanted yesterday.
–So, what is it? Are you guys spying my friends? There is a roster of things like you keeping tabs on them?
–Not that much. There are some more "things" like me, scattered around. Not too oftenly we bring some information to it. But it does not need us so much, darkness can watch by itself.
–Then did Daven tell you about my friends?
–I have seen some of them. Also, stop calling it Daven.
–So what do I call it?
Moving backwards, she looked confused. After a strange sigh, she came back.
–Daven, then. I haven't talked to it for some good days, it doesn't need us.
–Then we are back to the other question, did Daven give you that information?
–Yes. It gave me some of your background before the day we met. It did not look like it took too long to gather that data.
–Did Daven disappear as of lately because it is going after my friends?
–I don't think so.
He wondered. Maybe she just said that thing the day before to keep the topic, maybe she did not really know much about his friends. But it felt weird. So weird he had to hold his forehead with the right hand and close eyes, as if that made him concentrate enough to clarify thoughts.
Eyes closed.
All those times it said "Hello, boy".
The realization hit him like a truck, it was just a bunch of the things in his thoughts. Daven was inside whenever it wanted, as it seemed. It did not need to keep on watching over those people.
–I kind of wonder... Am I mad already?
–What do you mean?
–It lives inside my head.
–Daven?
–Daven.
She seemed surprised.
–Do you have any way to control it?
–None that I know about.
–Maybe it doesn't get access to everything.
–I can't tell.
–But that was to be expected.
–Why?
–It feeds on you. Therefore it gets to be closer and closer, and has to control its source.
–Feeds?
–Yes, never felt very, very tired for no reason?
–I...
He remembered all the times he felt so tired and just thought that it felt so because of the few hours of sleep between days. That could be just the lack of bedtime, couldn't it? It was the most logical answer.
–I did...
–And even though you barely sleep more than half of the recommended hours, some days you are feeling awesome, while in others it doesn't matter how much you sleep or with how much quality?
–Yes...
–That is because it is taking most of its energy from you. People normally don't last this long. It found one great feeder.
–So, it, Daven, is just, using me?
–Perhaps ever since you were a child.
–Where did it come from?
–Is that important?
–Of course it is, I need to know how can I fight back!
–Fight back?
–I don't want to feed it anymore.
–Well, that is one big problem. I am not sure humans fight back. Also, these things have some sort of interest in keeping their sources safe. Some thing in you is used to bring energy to it. Moreover, it is already known that a great feeder lies around.
–So, there are other... Davens...
–You can say so.
–And you, came with it.
–Yes, I did.
–Do you feed on me too?
His head felt dizzy. She was barely holding him now.
–Just a little. I get most of my energy from other ways.
–I'm not sure what to say.
–There is more. But you do not look good enough to hear it.
–I guess I need to sleep.
–You probably do.
She hugged him.
–Now, make sure it remains oblivious to this night.
–I'll try.
He stood against the corner, trying to understand what was going on.
She pressed the button back to the third floor.
Outside, the elevator pit was shrouded in pitch black darkness.
Sometimes people start to question reality. That is a part of being conscious. He wondered if he had gone truly mad. For some reason, now he just wanted to spend some time with his close friends. The humans that accompanied him during a big part of his life. He just wanted to be with them now, and forget all that nonsense.
But he also felt too weak to do anything like that. Whatever truck had hit him, it went for a critical strike. Her face caused a strange sensation now, something between the good feelings of having company in harsh times of sleep deprivation, and betrayal.
But the bed felt comfortable.
And a few dozen minutes later, he was fast asleep.
She left the bedroom, a bloodstained knife firmly held in one of her hands.
The open curtains showed the night outside. If he could look at it, and focus his eyes, he would notice that some specific branches weren't that bent anymore.
Whatever smiled from above them, now hid at the living room.
As soon as she left, it started moving.
A blade so grossly tortured by time and activity that it didn't even look like a cutting tool anymore. There were stains everywhere over its slender form.
The blade swinged in a diagonal arc, as if it cut an invisible body.
It was so eager for this moment. It was hard to control the anxiety, so the blade would swing for a few more times, some of which it stopped to praise what that would mean soon.
He slept beyond the quiet steps.
It smiled.
quinta-feira, 24 de setembro de 2015
Gift, part 7
It felt like having his friends around made him stronger.
Majority from the "circle". Some newcomers. But they were there.
–Check.
–Your turn.
He looked at his adversary's eyes. Most of the time he did that was a gigantic effort of not showing he had a good set of cards or bluffing. It was hard to keep the same face, specially because staring at someone's eyes was something so rare and so awkward. Sometimes he would just use a barely drunk behavior in order to not feel dminished by other players, playing as if it didn't matter anyway.
And yet, this night he felt so much better.
–Check.
He stared silently at the man over the other side of the table. It felt strange to have such a control over the situation. Or at least to feel as if there was actually any control over the game.
Another card was turned.
–Check.
That was said with a little more of thought. As if this foe had thought about going testing him.
–All in.
The speed with which those two words came out staggered everyone in the room who knew his extremely tight play style. In fact, he didn't even think much about that. He just decided to shoot and see what could happen. But the confidence he felt with that move was amazing. Some people looked at the player's cards on every side of the table.
Two minutes later cards were folded.
He felt a strange urge to stare into those eyes, as if that allowed him to devour the energy that lied within that person right in front of him. It was a strange experience he was slightly conscious of. It was better to just let it go on than to analyze it. And so it followed.
He folded some hands.
His opponent folded some more.
It was a heads up with little to no change in chip amounts.
But it could go on for hours, he didn't sleep much anyway, and this time it felt like the need of sleep could be postponed for days.
Moreover, there was no alcohol on his side. Slowly but surely, he would crumble. Falling all around without no more will to go on. It was just a matter of time.
–All in.
And there it was. Time had come.
He gazed numbly at the two cards, they gave him a measly pair with the three that were already turned at the table. A curious smile started to creep in his face.
–Call.
Those around who rooted for him were shocked. Why would he accept that? The pot wasn't even that big to accept such a risk. And they observed nervously when the disastrous cards were shown. There were two more cards to come, but the game was pretty much set.
Three of a kind versus one lower pair.
He smiled at his foe.
For the first time it was a lost fight but he didn't feel nervous, or sad.
And thus, as if some part of him knew it, the game became a battle of full houses.
Though he had the upper hand when that time came.
–You can't sleep, right?
–More than right.
–Well...
–Hm?
–I do not know what to do.
–Just stay there.
–Okay.
–It's pretty late and there's not much we can do anyway. The sun will be coming up in a few hours. At least tomorrow (or today, depending on the point of view) I won't have to wake up early.
–That is good. Do you have any idea why that happens?
–What do you mean?
–Why you get so many sleepless nights.
–I don't know for sure. But I have a lot of guesses. The one holding the most probability is simply summing up the facts that I tend to think too much and worry too much, and that I don't exercise too much. I mean, my body doesn't get tired, so there's no need to sleep on that part.
–But your friends don't exercise at all, I mean, they are at the same level. And they get to sleep more.
–Well... I don't know, I guess that changes from body to body. I only got some clues. Maybe that is irrelevant and I'm just saying rubbish. It doesn't matter anyway, ri...
He stopped.
She looked at him, with a curious face.
He moved up in order to remain sit at the couch, clumsily. His eyes were now barely at the same height of hers. One eyebrow arched and eyes as inquisitive as he could.
–What happened?
–How do you know that about my friends?
–I... heard things...
–Really?! Or are you just fooling me?!
The confused appearance made her scarred smile look even more uncomforting. But he did not care about that. She would have to speak.
–I just...
–Just what?! Did Daven keep some tabs on everyone?
–No! And who is Daven?!
–You know who he is!
–I do not.
–He brought you here.
–Oh... Daven, right?
–What do you mean? He said his name was Daven!
–I do not know it by that name. We do not need to name everything, perhaps he just gave you that name because you were curious about what could it be called. You need to have a name for everything, don't you?
–The heck if I do or don't! Just tell me, what do you know about them?
–Not much, I don't keep on stalking you, nor your friends.
–But who told you, then?!
–I...
Her face was distressed.
–We can speak later, when... it gets clearer.
–No! You are going to tell me that now! Nothing is going to get clearer until then!
–You did not understand, did you...?
–What's there to understand?! You didn't say anything!
Her hands grabbed his face.
It felt soft, though not very warm.
She moved a bit closer. Still holding him.
Turning his head a bit to the side, her mouth moved closer.
–I thought you would understand the need for light.
She whispered on his ear.
Though a bit baffled by all the situation, he came to realize what she meant.
Silence reigned thereafter.
She moved a bit away, still sitting at the sofa.
He felt a little bit ridiculous. Couldn't sleep and now didn't know what to say. Looking down and wondering what to do wouldn't help anyway.
Perhaps it was a situation that could not be fixed. Like many others he had already passed through.
Having a glimpse of what he was presented to earlier on those days, he just acted. Had his past self watched that, he would be so proud, it was such a bold move, considering how shy and stupid he behaved. Or at least he believed.
He slept lying in her lap. Not many more words were said that night. He just stood there while she played with his hair. It felt fantastic.
Out there, in the darkness that swallowed the room, two eyes watched.
Lidless.
Relentlessly.
A face smiled from the branches ahead of the third floor.
–Did you call any friends last night?
–No... why?
–I thought I heard your voice last night, talking to someone.
–Really?
–Yes, are you sure no one came over?
–Sure. Oh, I was... playing a little. Online games.
–Ah, I see!
–So, we were chatting on the microphones while we played.
–Like you did back then, I remember that.
–Yep.
–Just don't speak so loud when you do that.
He felt strange after talking to his mother that morning.
Now he had two things to think about.
Watching out for the trees.
And his friends.
Darkness couldn't go after his friends, could it?
He went back to bedroom. Forcing his eyes shut. Trying to think something that could perhaps call its attention.
But to no avail.
Coming to think of it, it did not show up much recently. Where could it be?
He spent the entire day wondering. At the end, that had just been another useless day without any productive activity. It angered him but there were more important things to focus than just feeling like wasting time.
One characteristic from such bad days, was that he mostly got to sleep after some time thinking in bed. But sleeping at unusual times, like six after noon made him wake up grumpy and sleep even worse at night. A strange thought of a voice whispering "elevator" rolled on his mind.
In the wee hours, he would just stay in the elevator, going up and down. There was no camera inside it and pretty much no one would go there that late.
Up and down.
Up and down.
What for?
Majority from the "circle". Some newcomers. But they were there.
–Check.
–Your turn.
He looked at his adversary's eyes. Most of the time he did that was a gigantic effort of not showing he had a good set of cards or bluffing. It was hard to keep the same face, specially because staring at someone's eyes was something so rare and so awkward. Sometimes he would just use a barely drunk behavior in order to not feel dminished by other players, playing as if it didn't matter anyway.
And yet, this night he felt so much better.
–Check.
He stared silently at the man over the other side of the table. It felt strange to have such a control over the situation. Or at least to feel as if there was actually any control over the game.
Another card was turned.
–Check.
That was said with a little more of thought. As if this foe had thought about going testing him.
–All in.
The speed with which those two words came out staggered everyone in the room who knew his extremely tight play style. In fact, he didn't even think much about that. He just decided to shoot and see what could happen. But the confidence he felt with that move was amazing. Some people looked at the player's cards on every side of the table.
Two minutes later cards were folded.
He felt a strange urge to stare into those eyes, as if that allowed him to devour the energy that lied within that person right in front of him. It was a strange experience he was slightly conscious of. It was better to just let it go on than to analyze it. And so it followed.
He folded some hands.
His opponent folded some more.
It was a heads up with little to no change in chip amounts.
But it could go on for hours, he didn't sleep much anyway, and this time it felt like the need of sleep could be postponed for days.
Moreover, there was no alcohol on his side. Slowly but surely, he would crumble. Falling all around without no more will to go on. It was just a matter of time.
–All in.
And there it was. Time had come.
He gazed numbly at the two cards, they gave him a measly pair with the three that were already turned at the table. A curious smile started to creep in his face.
–Call.
Those around who rooted for him were shocked. Why would he accept that? The pot wasn't even that big to accept such a risk. And they observed nervously when the disastrous cards were shown. There were two more cards to come, but the game was pretty much set.
Three of a kind versus one lower pair.
He smiled at his foe.
For the first time it was a lost fight but he didn't feel nervous, or sad.
And thus, as if some part of him knew it, the game became a battle of full houses.
Though he had the upper hand when that time came.
–You can't sleep, right?
–More than right.
–Well...
–Hm?
–I do not know what to do.
–Just stay there.
–Okay.
–It's pretty late and there's not much we can do anyway. The sun will be coming up in a few hours. At least tomorrow (or today, depending on the point of view) I won't have to wake up early.
–That is good. Do you have any idea why that happens?
–What do you mean?
–Why you get so many sleepless nights.
–I don't know for sure. But I have a lot of guesses. The one holding the most probability is simply summing up the facts that I tend to think too much and worry too much, and that I don't exercise too much. I mean, my body doesn't get tired, so there's no need to sleep on that part.
–But your friends don't exercise at all, I mean, they are at the same level. And they get to sleep more.
–Well... I don't know, I guess that changes from body to body. I only got some clues. Maybe that is irrelevant and I'm just saying rubbish. It doesn't matter anyway, ri...
He stopped.
She looked at him, with a curious face.
He moved up in order to remain sit at the couch, clumsily. His eyes were now barely at the same height of hers. One eyebrow arched and eyes as inquisitive as he could.
–What happened?
–How do you know that about my friends?
–I... heard things...
–Really?! Or are you just fooling me?!
The confused appearance made her scarred smile look even more uncomforting. But he did not care about that. She would have to speak.
–I just...
–Just what?! Did Daven keep some tabs on everyone?
–No! And who is Daven?!
–You know who he is!
–I do not.
–He brought you here.
–Oh... Daven, right?
–What do you mean? He said his name was Daven!
–I do not know it by that name. We do not need to name everything, perhaps he just gave you that name because you were curious about what could it be called. You need to have a name for everything, don't you?
–The heck if I do or don't! Just tell me, what do you know about them?
–Not much, I don't keep on stalking you, nor your friends.
–But who told you, then?!
–I...
Her face was distressed.
–We can speak later, when... it gets clearer.
–No! You are going to tell me that now! Nothing is going to get clearer until then!
–You did not understand, did you...?
–What's there to understand?! You didn't say anything!
Her hands grabbed his face.
It felt soft, though not very warm.
She moved a bit closer. Still holding him.
Turning his head a bit to the side, her mouth moved closer.
–I thought you would understand the need for light.
She whispered on his ear.
Though a bit baffled by all the situation, he came to realize what she meant.
Silence reigned thereafter.
She moved a bit away, still sitting at the sofa.
He felt a little bit ridiculous. Couldn't sleep and now didn't know what to say. Looking down and wondering what to do wouldn't help anyway.
Perhaps it was a situation that could not be fixed. Like many others he had already passed through.
Having a glimpse of what he was presented to earlier on those days, he just acted. Had his past self watched that, he would be so proud, it was such a bold move, considering how shy and stupid he behaved. Or at least he believed.
He slept lying in her lap. Not many more words were said that night. He just stood there while she played with his hair. It felt fantastic.
Out there, in the darkness that swallowed the room, two eyes watched.
Lidless.
Relentlessly.
A face smiled from the branches ahead of the third floor.
–Did you call any friends last night?
–No... why?
–I thought I heard your voice last night, talking to someone.
–Really?
–Yes, are you sure no one came over?
–Sure. Oh, I was... playing a little. Online games.
–Ah, I see!
–So, we were chatting on the microphones while we played.
–Like you did back then, I remember that.
–Yep.
–Just don't speak so loud when you do that.
He felt strange after talking to his mother that morning.
Now he had two things to think about.
Watching out for the trees.
And his friends.
Darkness couldn't go after his friends, could it?
He went back to bedroom. Forcing his eyes shut. Trying to think something that could perhaps call its attention.
But to no avail.
Coming to think of it, it did not show up much recently. Where could it be?
He spent the entire day wondering. At the end, that had just been another useless day without any productive activity. It angered him but there were more important things to focus than just feeling like wasting time.
One characteristic from such bad days, was that he mostly got to sleep after some time thinking in bed. But sleeping at unusual times, like six after noon made him wake up grumpy and sleep even worse at night. A strange thought of a voice whispering "elevator" rolled on his mind.
In the wee hours, he would just stay in the elevator, going up and down. There was no camera inside it and pretty much no one would go there that late.
Up and down.
Up and down.
What for?
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