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?
quinta-feira, 24 de setembro de 2015
terça-feira, 22 de setembro de 2015
The capsule of dreams has broken
I was going to leave something depressive here, but I changed my mind, as I had changed a few dozens of minutes before when I decided to post.
Instead, I'll just leave a note saying that this is the point we were at this very day.
Your job to get better from here on.
Go for it, brother.
Instead, I'll just leave a note saying that this is the point we were at this very day.
Your job to get better from here on.
Go for it, brother.
segunda-feira, 21 de setembro de 2015
Gift, part 6
–Do you guys really believe in the end of the world?
–I don't.
–Well, I... you never know, right?
–So that means you do.
–I don't, but how can anyone be so sure that the mayans weren't right?
–Well, that means believing.
–Don't worry, there's an entire year left.
–Then, it's all gone!
–You guys shouldn't play with something like that. Who knows...
The three were speaking at the balcony. That was one of his many homes, as he liked to call it. It was a big house with rooms delimited by walls meeting themselves at funny angles. Some were at the television room, playing Call of Duty, which one was irrelevant to him. It was a fun game, he liked shooting and all, but it just wasn't all that much.
Others were chatting at the kitchen, they were the ones with the duty of feeding the gang. Perhaps that meant calling the closest pizza store. He liked the idea of giving duties to each one, it was good to be the leader. Or at least to believe it.
It was good to have his soldiers back.
One left the balcony, they were two now.
–It's been a long time since we got to get everybody together like that, right?
–Yep, guess that's normal. People get their own lives and all.
–But the group is still here.
–Yeah.
–Also, you haven't showed up for a while.
–I got back to playing. Also, I had to study for all the month of November, you know the story.
–What have you been playing now?
–Ah, Borderlands. It's insanely fun. Just like the old times.
He knew there was no actual interest in gaming coming from his friend, but it was okay. That is a part of social activities, showing interest in people.
–Cool, man. Just don't stop showing up.
–Haha, I won't.
They played and chatted, eating and drinking. And in the wee hours, it was time to go back home.
The night watched with a million beautiful eyes.
–Wanna drink some Sprite?
–Not really, but I can keep you company.
–Ok, let's go.
They walked to the kitchen, he didn't need to turn on the lights since his eyes were already accustomed to the dark. Always fancied this routine. Keeping eyes closed during the night and then having some sort of night vision afterwards.
He grabbed the bottle inside the fridge. A sudden thought struck.
Holding the beverage, he closed the door and looked at her. She stood there, not smiling nor frowning, the eyes were firm though not serious nor staring.
–Sorry about asking that at the bedroom.
–What do you mean?
–You don't drink, do you?
–I don't.
–I barely forgot that for a moment.
–No problem with that.
–Well, okay.
He filled the glass.
–You're not afraid anymore, are you?
He halted. Coming to think of it, he wasn't so afraid anymore of her sliced mouth.
–I guess I ain't.
Strange thoughts about knives and flesh flew by.
–I think I am getting used to it. Also, it's fun to have someone to talk to.
–That's different. Your reaction at first was... Even more exaggerated than most people.
–Well, I apologize for that...?
–You don't need to.
For a fraction of a second, he saw something in her eyes. But managed to convince himself not much later, that it was perhaps some reflex or just the darkness that made things look strange.
But there was something sad there.
They sat at the benches close to the table.
–Has it ever told you about when I was a child?
–No, what of it?
–I was very afraid of horror movies.
–But you said you liked them.
–I do, and I also did when I was a child. But I was terrified when the time to turn off the lights came. You know, "don't be afraid of the dark, be afraid of what lies inside it". Also, as I saw in the movies, things could attack me from anywhere. And I believed it, because, well, I was a kid.
–I understand. So you overcame it.
–Yes I did.
–Most people never do, though most react not as bad as you did, they never stop running away or screaming.
–But you do like that, don't you?
–Pretty much.
–I would enjoy frightening people too.
–It feels good most of the time. But you don't get to speak much.
–What do you mean?
–It's kinda lonely being scary.
–Ah...
–It is also good to have someone to speak to.
–I say the same, I don't have many people standing awake at such hours. So, to some degree, I get you.
They remained in silence for a while, he would drink a little bit here and there.
–Have you ever been afraid of the dark?
–No. Never.
–I see... Well, I have to go to sleep now. It's getting late and I'll probably be messed up tomorrow.
–Sure.
–You can stay at the lower bed.
–You know I don't sleep.
–I do, that I didn't forget! But, you can lie there for a while until it's time for you to go. If you want to. Must suck to stand on your feet doing nothing for hours.
–Though I can only be around while it is dark, I will accept your offer.
–Good. Let's go.
Wondering about those vacation days. Though there were about a hundred days free of university and studies, he didn't travel nor do anything of the like. Not that it felt bad, but he felt as if something was missing.
Things were working out fine at the psychologist. He could enjoy nights out a bit more, never letting go of money completely, but not feeling like if he spent money, he ought to enjoy a lot. Sometimes the fun was just being there and all, but it was hard to just accept that was it. But how could he go after something he couldn't even describe?
Perhaps movies made him believe that every day can the day of your life.
At some point, he realized he was changing. During one session she made him remember how it was when they first met. It felt weird to come to terms with that, for many years he stated being the same person ever since elementary school. Some people are just averse to changes.
More sociable, less worried and more tired.
There were days in which he did dozens of things untirelessly, and days in which sleeping eight hours straight felt like being hit by a truck. Sleeping was always a bizarre activity. At least the weird dreams didn't change, if that meant something good.
"Growing up means being tired", the idea was forced into his head. So it was okay.
One of these common nights, in which his family would gather friends to play poker, it came back.
During the break, a period of fifteen minutes that not too rarely lasted for one hour, he went to his bedroom to get some rest. The night had a mild temperature and the wind sometimes decided to move leaves around. Eyes closed, thinking on pretty much anything but poker.
–Hello.
The voice butchered all that performed inside.
"Hi."
–I have seen that you miss the past with your friends.
"What do you mean?"
–You know what I mean. It must suck not being the boss anymore. But it's okay right, "people get lives of their own".
"Wh... I don't get it."
–Watch out for the trees, these days. There is no fixed date but you will get it.
He opened his eyes. Disliking to have it wandering though his head, he rushed to the bathroom sink, to wash his face and get back to the game. Or wait for it to start again in the company of people.
The night was still nothing short of common. The breeze.
But could that mean something?
He looked through the window for the entire rest of the game.
–I don't.
–Well, I... you never know, right?
–So that means you do.
–I don't, but how can anyone be so sure that the mayans weren't right?
–Well, that means believing.
–Don't worry, there's an entire year left.
–Then, it's all gone!
–You guys shouldn't play with something like that. Who knows...
The three were speaking at the balcony. That was one of his many homes, as he liked to call it. It was a big house with rooms delimited by walls meeting themselves at funny angles. Some were at the television room, playing Call of Duty, which one was irrelevant to him. It was a fun game, he liked shooting and all, but it just wasn't all that much.
Others were chatting at the kitchen, they were the ones with the duty of feeding the gang. Perhaps that meant calling the closest pizza store. He liked the idea of giving duties to each one, it was good to be the leader. Or at least to believe it.
It was good to have his soldiers back.
One left the balcony, they were two now.
–It's been a long time since we got to get everybody together like that, right?
–Yep, guess that's normal. People get their own lives and all.
–But the group is still here.
–Yeah.
–Also, you haven't showed up for a while.
–I got back to playing. Also, I had to study for all the month of November, you know the story.
–What have you been playing now?
–Ah, Borderlands. It's insanely fun. Just like the old times.
He knew there was no actual interest in gaming coming from his friend, but it was okay. That is a part of social activities, showing interest in people.
–Cool, man. Just don't stop showing up.
–Haha, I won't.
They played and chatted, eating and drinking. And in the wee hours, it was time to go back home.
The night watched with a million beautiful eyes.
–Wanna drink some Sprite?
–Not really, but I can keep you company.
–Ok, let's go.
They walked to the kitchen, he didn't need to turn on the lights since his eyes were already accustomed to the dark. Always fancied this routine. Keeping eyes closed during the night and then having some sort of night vision afterwards.
He grabbed the bottle inside the fridge. A sudden thought struck.
Holding the beverage, he closed the door and looked at her. She stood there, not smiling nor frowning, the eyes were firm though not serious nor staring.
–Sorry about asking that at the bedroom.
–What do you mean?
–You don't drink, do you?
–I don't.
–I barely forgot that for a moment.
–No problem with that.
–Well, okay.
He filled the glass.
–You're not afraid anymore, are you?
He halted. Coming to think of it, he wasn't so afraid anymore of her sliced mouth.
–I guess I ain't.
Strange thoughts about knives and flesh flew by.
–I think I am getting used to it. Also, it's fun to have someone to talk to.
–That's different. Your reaction at first was... Even more exaggerated than most people.
–Well, I apologize for that...?
–You don't need to.
For a fraction of a second, he saw something in her eyes. But managed to convince himself not much later, that it was perhaps some reflex or just the darkness that made things look strange.
But there was something sad there.
They sat at the benches close to the table.
–Has it ever told you about when I was a child?
–No, what of it?
–I was very afraid of horror movies.
–But you said you liked them.
–I do, and I also did when I was a child. But I was terrified when the time to turn off the lights came. You know, "don't be afraid of the dark, be afraid of what lies inside it". Also, as I saw in the movies, things could attack me from anywhere. And I believed it, because, well, I was a kid.
–I understand. So you overcame it.
–Yes I did.
–Most people never do, though most react not as bad as you did, they never stop running away or screaming.
–But you do like that, don't you?
–Pretty much.
–I would enjoy frightening people too.
–It feels good most of the time. But you don't get to speak much.
–What do you mean?
–It's kinda lonely being scary.
–Ah...
–It is also good to have someone to speak to.
–I say the same, I don't have many people standing awake at such hours. So, to some degree, I get you.
They remained in silence for a while, he would drink a little bit here and there.
–Have you ever been afraid of the dark?
–No. Never.
–I see... Well, I have to go to sleep now. It's getting late and I'll probably be messed up tomorrow.
–Sure.
–You can stay at the lower bed.
–You know I don't sleep.
–I do, that I didn't forget! But, you can lie there for a while until it's time for you to go. If you want to. Must suck to stand on your feet doing nothing for hours.
–Though I can only be around while it is dark, I will accept your offer.
–Good. Let's go.
Wondering about those vacation days. Though there were about a hundred days free of university and studies, he didn't travel nor do anything of the like. Not that it felt bad, but he felt as if something was missing.
Things were working out fine at the psychologist. He could enjoy nights out a bit more, never letting go of money completely, but not feeling like if he spent money, he ought to enjoy a lot. Sometimes the fun was just being there and all, but it was hard to just accept that was it. But how could he go after something he couldn't even describe?
Perhaps movies made him believe that every day can the day of your life.
At some point, he realized he was changing. During one session she made him remember how it was when they first met. It felt weird to come to terms with that, for many years he stated being the same person ever since elementary school. Some people are just averse to changes.
More sociable, less worried and more tired.
There were days in which he did dozens of things untirelessly, and days in which sleeping eight hours straight felt like being hit by a truck. Sleeping was always a bizarre activity. At least the weird dreams didn't change, if that meant something good.
"Growing up means being tired", the idea was forced into his head. So it was okay.
One of these common nights, in which his family would gather friends to play poker, it came back.
During the break, a period of fifteen minutes that not too rarely lasted for one hour, he went to his bedroom to get some rest. The night had a mild temperature and the wind sometimes decided to move leaves around. Eyes closed, thinking on pretty much anything but poker.
–Hello.
The voice butchered all that performed inside.
"Hi."
–I have seen that you miss the past with your friends.
"What do you mean?"
–You know what I mean. It must suck not being the boss anymore. But it's okay right, "people get lives of their own".
"Wh... I don't get it."
–Watch out for the trees, these days. There is no fixed date but you will get it.
He opened his eyes. Disliking to have it wandering though his head, he rushed to the bathroom sink, to wash his face and get back to the game. Or wait for it to start again in the company of people.
The night was still nothing short of common. The breeze.
But could that mean something?
He looked through the window for the entire rest of the game.
quinta-feira, 17 de setembro de 2015
Gift, part 5
A hand raised in the darkness, as a showman presenting the night's highlight. Something moved back there in the shades. Slowly, but never stopping, it came towards the hand, until it lowered.
Right behind darkness, something stood.
The eyes looked at him.
He was now between lying in bed and sitting over it. Elbows holding the torso back. A slight tension filled the air. Even the moon out there seemed to be avoiding the room.
She came closer.
The eyes still fixed him.
Mouth wide opened. As a big slash had tried to cross from one ear to the other. It could be just one big wound, but the borders of the scar weren't quite touching each other. And it didn't look like it was recent.
–Hello!
Barely feeling his heart and shrouded into dreary thoughts before, his heart now pounded as if it prepared to explode. He had never felt so out of his body due to sheer horror. The smile that tainted that face during that word was so gross and deranged that his disgust for strange smiles that seemed unreal and macabre took to another level.
He stared at her face. Wishing to look anywhere else, but unable. It burnt. As if looking straight into it caused pain, they became increasingly teary.
The smile went away, and a face of curiosity now gazed inside his head. Not that he noted, but darkness moved away. It was just the shy illumination coming from the almost full moon. Stripes of the weak night shade crossed the room.
Coming back to his senses, he moved his head, nodding.
–It is ugly, isn't it?
A tear rolled through his cheek. That grotesque smile still ravaged inside his mind.
His vision was becoming blurry.
She was still there, but it was just as if she wasn't. In fact, nothing was actually present. The only control he had by then was a measly thought that wondered if that was what fear was all about.
The sun was coming through the blinds.
He woke up lazily, taking some time to open his eyes. And his head ached as if he had barely slept. The clock indicated he slept for a good amount of time, but it just didn't feel like so.
Classes were over, things would get better.
He had been trying to internalize that idea. Unsuccessfully thus far.
Forcing himself out of bed and into this new day, he crawled into the kitchen. It was late breakfast time. And there would be time enough to prepare something more than a rushed bowl of cereals.
Though he started it with the bowl of cereals. It was his daily meal, day in and day out, he never got tired of eating those. Even if it wasn't as tasty as when he was presented those chocolate flavored cereals, it felt like a good routine. After the first spoon, he realized it could get even better with banana slices and honey, he would make one heck of a bowl that morning.
That gave him some excitement.
He peeled the banana and left it close to the cereal box, then proceeded to the drawer.
The knife was held firmly.
Suddenly, he remembered the night that just passed. It wasn't as intense as back then, but it left him numb. It was a bad feeling he could not deal with nor fully understand.
The blade sliding slowly through those cheeks, blood decorating its path. Not oftenly, it would halt clumsily. It was almost as if lightning struck the skin around it when it happened.
The tears flowing unstoppably.
He closed his eyes in order to control himself. It was always easier to stop thinking bad things when he shut his eyes. But as soon as the surge stopped, the voice came.
–You need to face it.
"What?!"
–Do not run away from what scares you.
"Why the hell did you do this?"
–You wanted company. I got you some.
"I don't need this kind of company. Moreover, I already have my friends."
–You do. But what about all those days you felt so gloomy coming back home? What about all those nights wondering if there would be something else to do because you just could not stand the idea of coming back home. Or, adding insult to injury, coming back home alone. All those nights trying to sleep, thinking if everybody has already achieved sleep. Can you lie to yourself to this point?
"It's..."
–It is what it is. Become stronger. Face her. She can not harm you.
"What if I don't want to?"
–Then you will have some very sad nights ahead of you.
He opened his eyes. The knife was still in his hands. Foolishly, he stabbed the box of cereals. Wondering how dare it make such a move without thinking of the consequences, he rushed to the bathroom.
The three mirrors looked at him, at first looking mad. Then, feeling pity. That was ridiculous, it was just as when he was a child and got scared of some seriously bad dreams. But that was it, it was just a dream, it was all inside his head. Always been.
The four raised their heads and then closed their eyes.
–Perhaps I need you to remember one thing.
"What...?"
–If they can be real, so can I.
Not even ten years old. Just a child in a small house that seemed way bigger in his eyes. The kitchen was so far away. In fact the bedroom door was distant enough already. Anything could reach him in the way. Trapped, in his own bed. He used to sleep in the lower part of the bunkbed. Sister was fast asleep at the mattress that lied in some sort of big drawer you could pull from underneath. This was then a triple bunkbed. But the top was always empty.
At least he hoped so. But there was the wardrobe, and all the other doors in the house, the bathroom. Whatever it was, it could come from anywhere. He knew he shouldn't have watched those horror movies, but it felt so good. Even if he closed his eyes anytime someone died or the ugly monsters appeared on the screen.
But now, he wanted a glass of water. And that was one hard task. He could sob quietly until one of his parents came, as he did many times before.
But that was childish.
Deep down he wanted to go there. But the risks seemed to outnumber the advantages of not being childish. As many times before, he raised from his bed, and carefully watched the floor. It couldn't get him from under the bed as it did not have that empty space below. Moving slowly sideways, he kept eyes on the wardrobe.
In a few minutes, he was at the door, always looking back and forth, in order to not keep anywhere unseen. His parents snored at the room at the other side of the small corridor. That sound was already scary. As soon as he entered the corridor, there would be so many places an attack could come from he would not be able to be aware.
It was at that part that the glass of water quest always ended. The bathroom race, however, was a success, for the door was close to their bedroom. But sometimes his parents would scream at him, for he rushed and slammed the door behind him. Being safe was more important than keeping them asleep. At least that stood true during those years.
But now he faced the part that could not be won.
And once more, it felt like such.
The shadow rose from the top of the bunkbed.
It was time.
Thinking of all the many times he failed prior to this moment, he started to get angry. He hated feeling that. In fact, feeling many things made him just downright angry. It was as if being angry was the only answer to not having an answer. And this time, he felt so bad. It was so damn frustrating to be there, at his own house, and not have the courage to do something so simple. He knew it was simple, but it was too much for him.
Although he could not accept that was something that came with the age, his thoughts couldn't make him past the door.
The room got darker.
Eyes shut, forced to close even more, tears starting to form, he pointed his anger toward himself.
Darkness slowly moved out of the door.
And blindly, he followed.
Touching walls in order to keep in mind where could he be (despite the small apartment), he conquered meter after meter. Sometimes noises would make his heart go through an array of wild blasts, and his legs felt like running anywhere but there, but he held it.
He was ridiculous.
Close to his goal, but a ridiculous coward.
At the kitchen, but afraid to open his eyes.
Filling the glass with water, but not having the courage to take a look around.
He hated it.
He hated them.
Why didn't they just come, so he could bruise them. He wanted to hurt them, make them pay. Why was he the only one to feel such things? His thoughts started to question. And slowly he remembered of all the times he got angry at people, mostly other children, but couldn't do anything. Because it would not be right, and thus he always kept it for him. All those horrible feelings. He would make drawings of people dying, but it wasn't enough.
Because that was all he was, a coward.
And then came that odd, but pleasant thought. An old ghost that got to the physical world. Hair flying all around its old face. Wrinkled and torn skin, eyes as dark as the night. Mouth wide open.
A fire extinguisher. If that thing managed to touch him, it could be touched. The fire extinguisher flying into its face, then dancing in the air, like a jumping ballerina, smashing that face into bits. All those parts gushing to the ceiling...
He opened those eyes. He was at the kitchen, it was a common night. Silent, as much as it could be. He drank the water in one gulp. Later on, he would just walk back to bed, as if it daylight shined upon the building.
It was okay.
If they could be real, so could he.
Right behind darkness, something stood.
The eyes looked at him.
He was now between lying in bed and sitting over it. Elbows holding the torso back. A slight tension filled the air. Even the moon out there seemed to be avoiding the room.
She came closer.
The eyes still fixed him.
Mouth wide opened. As a big slash had tried to cross from one ear to the other. It could be just one big wound, but the borders of the scar weren't quite touching each other. And it didn't look like it was recent.
–Hello!
Barely feeling his heart and shrouded into dreary thoughts before, his heart now pounded as if it prepared to explode. He had never felt so out of his body due to sheer horror. The smile that tainted that face during that word was so gross and deranged that his disgust for strange smiles that seemed unreal and macabre took to another level.
He stared at her face. Wishing to look anywhere else, but unable. It burnt. As if looking straight into it caused pain, they became increasingly teary.
The smile went away, and a face of curiosity now gazed inside his head. Not that he noted, but darkness moved away. It was just the shy illumination coming from the almost full moon. Stripes of the weak night shade crossed the room.
Coming back to his senses, he moved his head, nodding.
–It is ugly, isn't it?
A tear rolled through his cheek. That grotesque smile still ravaged inside his mind.
His vision was becoming blurry.
She was still there, but it was just as if she wasn't. In fact, nothing was actually present. The only control he had by then was a measly thought that wondered if that was what fear was all about.
The sun was coming through the blinds.
He woke up lazily, taking some time to open his eyes. And his head ached as if he had barely slept. The clock indicated he slept for a good amount of time, but it just didn't feel like so.
Classes were over, things would get better.
He had been trying to internalize that idea. Unsuccessfully thus far.
Forcing himself out of bed and into this new day, he crawled into the kitchen. It was late breakfast time. And there would be time enough to prepare something more than a rushed bowl of cereals.
Though he started it with the bowl of cereals. It was his daily meal, day in and day out, he never got tired of eating those. Even if it wasn't as tasty as when he was presented those chocolate flavored cereals, it felt like a good routine. After the first spoon, he realized it could get even better with banana slices and honey, he would make one heck of a bowl that morning.
That gave him some excitement.
He peeled the banana and left it close to the cereal box, then proceeded to the drawer.
The knife was held firmly.
Suddenly, he remembered the night that just passed. It wasn't as intense as back then, but it left him numb. It was a bad feeling he could not deal with nor fully understand.
The blade sliding slowly through those cheeks, blood decorating its path. Not oftenly, it would halt clumsily. It was almost as if lightning struck the skin around it when it happened.
The tears flowing unstoppably.
He closed his eyes in order to control himself. It was always easier to stop thinking bad things when he shut his eyes. But as soon as the surge stopped, the voice came.
–You need to face it.
"What?!"
–Do not run away from what scares you.
"Why the hell did you do this?"
–You wanted company. I got you some.
"I don't need this kind of company. Moreover, I already have my friends."
–You do. But what about all those days you felt so gloomy coming back home? What about all those nights wondering if there would be something else to do because you just could not stand the idea of coming back home. Or, adding insult to injury, coming back home alone. All those nights trying to sleep, thinking if everybody has already achieved sleep. Can you lie to yourself to this point?
"It's..."
–It is what it is. Become stronger. Face her. She can not harm you.
"What if I don't want to?"
–Then you will have some very sad nights ahead of you.
He opened his eyes. The knife was still in his hands. Foolishly, he stabbed the box of cereals. Wondering how dare it make such a move without thinking of the consequences, he rushed to the bathroom.
The three mirrors looked at him, at first looking mad. Then, feeling pity. That was ridiculous, it was just as when he was a child and got scared of some seriously bad dreams. But that was it, it was just a dream, it was all inside his head. Always been.
The four raised their heads and then closed their eyes.
–Perhaps I need you to remember one thing.
"What...?"
–If they can be real, so can I.
Not even ten years old. Just a child in a small house that seemed way bigger in his eyes. The kitchen was so far away. In fact the bedroom door was distant enough already. Anything could reach him in the way. Trapped, in his own bed. He used to sleep in the lower part of the bunkbed. Sister was fast asleep at the mattress that lied in some sort of big drawer you could pull from underneath. This was then a triple bunkbed. But the top was always empty.
At least he hoped so. But there was the wardrobe, and all the other doors in the house, the bathroom. Whatever it was, it could come from anywhere. He knew he shouldn't have watched those horror movies, but it felt so good. Even if he closed his eyes anytime someone died or the ugly monsters appeared on the screen.
But now, he wanted a glass of water. And that was one hard task. He could sob quietly until one of his parents came, as he did many times before.
But that was childish.
Deep down he wanted to go there. But the risks seemed to outnumber the advantages of not being childish. As many times before, he raised from his bed, and carefully watched the floor. It couldn't get him from under the bed as it did not have that empty space below. Moving slowly sideways, he kept eyes on the wardrobe.
In a few minutes, he was at the door, always looking back and forth, in order to not keep anywhere unseen. His parents snored at the room at the other side of the small corridor. That sound was already scary. As soon as he entered the corridor, there would be so many places an attack could come from he would not be able to be aware.
It was at that part that the glass of water quest always ended. The bathroom race, however, was a success, for the door was close to their bedroom. But sometimes his parents would scream at him, for he rushed and slammed the door behind him. Being safe was more important than keeping them asleep. At least that stood true during those years.
But now he faced the part that could not be won.
And once more, it felt like such.
The shadow rose from the top of the bunkbed.
It was time.
Thinking of all the many times he failed prior to this moment, he started to get angry. He hated feeling that. In fact, feeling many things made him just downright angry. It was as if being angry was the only answer to not having an answer. And this time, he felt so bad. It was so damn frustrating to be there, at his own house, and not have the courage to do something so simple. He knew it was simple, but it was too much for him.
Although he could not accept that was something that came with the age, his thoughts couldn't make him past the door.
The room got darker.
Eyes shut, forced to close even more, tears starting to form, he pointed his anger toward himself.
Darkness slowly moved out of the door.
And blindly, he followed.
Touching walls in order to keep in mind where could he be (despite the small apartment), he conquered meter after meter. Sometimes noises would make his heart go through an array of wild blasts, and his legs felt like running anywhere but there, but he held it.
He was ridiculous.
Close to his goal, but a ridiculous coward.
At the kitchen, but afraid to open his eyes.
Filling the glass with water, but not having the courage to take a look around.
He hated it.
He hated them.
Why didn't they just come, so he could bruise them. He wanted to hurt them, make them pay. Why was he the only one to feel such things? His thoughts started to question. And slowly he remembered of all the times he got angry at people, mostly other children, but couldn't do anything. Because it would not be right, and thus he always kept it for him. All those horrible feelings. He would make drawings of people dying, but it wasn't enough.
Because that was all he was, a coward.
And then came that odd, but pleasant thought. An old ghost that got to the physical world. Hair flying all around its old face. Wrinkled and torn skin, eyes as dark as the night. Mouth wide open.
A fire extinguisher. If that thing managed to touch him, it could be touched. The fire extinguisher flying into its face, then dancing in the air, like a jumping ballerina, smashing that face into bits. All those parts gushing to the ceiling...
He opened those eyes. He was at the kitchen, it was a common night. Silent, as much as it could be. He drank the water in one gulp. Later on, he would just walk back to bed, as if it daylight shined upon the building.
It was okay.
If they could be real, so could he.
terça-feira, 15 de setembro de 2015
Drinking Derby
–You know this can be dangerous, right?
–Dangerous? In which way?
–Ah, we can go beyond the limits and such.
–I know about that. But I really would like to do this. But you don't need to if you don't want to. I know it is pretty silly.
–I want to, I'm just making sure you know the risks.
–Do I know the risks...
–Then... I guess we're game. It is going to be just the two of us, right?
–Yep, if you don't mind.
–I really don't. If it is just going to be the two of us drinking, then I guess we can go no holds barred!
–I don't think we can go all that much, haha.
–Why not?
–I... act weird when I drink.
–Weird?
–It's kinda random. I've been incredibly happy, downright sad and pure fucking angry.
–And how are you feeling today?
–Not sure, anxious I guess. It's kinda hard to believe that this is happening.
–Why?
–I really wanted to do this, and I know it is kind of a stupid thing.
–Don't say that it's stupid! Saying that is stupid.
–Okay, okay...
–So, how are we gonna do this?
–We can... eat something heavy and then go to the bar.
–Sounds like a plan. What do you have in mind?
–I was thinking on burger or pizza.
–Hmm...
–But you can choose something else, if you don't want that.
–Nah, I'm fine with that.
–Really?
–Yeah, once in a while it's okay.
–Yep, it is.
–And what are we drinking?
–Ah... they have a wide array of drinks! Some are very sweet and tame, while others pack quite a punch. So, you can just choose at the time, and there are the drinks that are not on the menu. Also, if, and that's quite an if, we want something different, we can go and ask the bartenders to prepare something different, we just need to have some of the ingredients we want in mind.
–Woah! I hope the place is half as good as you promote it.
–I hope so too.
–Don't worry. I know it is going to be one hell of a ride.
...
–Hm, and how are we going to do in regard to driving?
–We can use a ride home, better not to drive if we are going to drink that much.
–That much?
–Yep.
–I like that. So we get rides back home and leave our cars there?
–Pretty much like that. I am already used to going back there the next day, to pick up my car.
–I see.
–And you can sleep at my place, if that's okay.
–Well...
–Don't worry, there's an entire room there for ya. And you can lock it and all that.
–Haha, that's okay. I know I can trust you.
–Just reassuring...
–So. If I am going to sleep at your place, can we change plans?
–What do you mean?
–Can I pass there earlier to leave my stuff, then we leave to start the night in one car?
–Sure! We can do that.
–Okay!
–I don't know, too many options...
–Well, what would you like to start with?
–Something sweet first!
–Vodka, whisky, tequila...?
–Vodka to start!
–So, there's this one, this is the tamest drink in the house, and this one, which is pretty sweet but has a stronger taste of alcohol at the end.
–I'll take the first.
–Your wish is an order.
–What is that one?
–Oh, this is my favorite! Rum, tequila, vodka, curaçao and gin, mixed with lemon juice and lemon-flavored energy drink.
–Sounds amazing! Can I prove it?
–Sure. Go ahead. Drink from the bottom to the top, that way you mix all the parts of it in one gulp.
...
–Wow, not as strong as I thought it would be.
–But it gets straight to the point quite fast. If you're not resistant for alcohol, like me.
–I think I am. I want that one next!
–You can ask for its variation, I don't remember which drink they take out, but they add whisky, and the lemon part becomes cranberry.
–Is it good?
–Well, the first time I drank it, it was damn strong and not as good as this one. But a friend of mine ordered it once and hers was really good.
–Hmm... I'll think about it!
–Both!
–Hahahaha, you sure about that?
–Yeah! Pleeeease, I know we can take that!
–I don't know...
–I promise if you become boring I'll kick you, then you don't have to worry!
–Well, somehow that doesn't quite convince me...
–Come ooooon. We'll be drunk and stubborn together!
–Ahhhh... okay. Let's take both.
–I enjoyed it.
–Me t...
–Dangerous? In which way?
–Ah, we can go beyond the limits and such.
–I know about that. But I really would like to do this. But you don't need to if you don't want to. I know it is pretty silly.
–I want to, I'm just making sure you know the risks.
–Do I know the risks...
–Then... I guess we're game. It is going to be just the two of us, right?
–Yep, if you don't mind.
–I really don't. If it is just going to be the two of us drinking, then I guess we can go no holds barred!
–I don't think we can go all that much, haha.
–Why not?
–I... act weird when I drink.
–Weird?
–It's kinda random. I've been incredibly happy, downright sad and pure fucking angry.
–And how are you feeling today?
–Not sure, anxious I guess. It's kinda hard to believe that this is happening.
–Why?
–I really wanted to do this, and I know it is kind of a stupid thing.
–Don't say that it's stupid! Saying that is stupid.
–Okay, okay...
–So, how are we gonna do this?
–We can... eat something heavy and then go to the bar.
–Sounds like a plan. What do you have in mind?
–I was thinking on burger or pizza.
–Hmm...
–But you can choose something else, if you don't want that.
–Nah, I'm fine with that.
–Really?
–Yeah, once in a while it's okay.
–Yep, it is.
–And what are we drinking?
–Ah... they have a wide array of drinks! Some are very sweet and tame, while others pack quite a punch. So, you can just choose at the time, and there are the drinks that are not on the menu. Also, if, and that's quite an if, we want something different, we can go and ask the bartenders to prepare something different, we just need to have some of the ingredients we want in mind.
–Woah! I hope the place is half as good as you promote it.
–I hope so too.
–Don't worry. I know it is going to be one hell of a ride.
...
–Hm, and how are we going to do in regard to driving?
–We can use a ride home, better not to drive if we are going to drink that much.
–That much?
–Yep.
–I like that. So we get rides back home and leave our cars there?
–Pretty much like that. I am already used to going back there the next day, to pick up my car.
–I see.
–And you can sleep at my place, if that's okay.
–Well...
–Don't worry, there's an entire room there for ya. And you can lock it and all that.
–Haha, that's okay. I know I can trust you.
–Just reassuring...
–So. If I am going to sleep at your place, can we change plans?
–What do you mean?
–Can I pass there earlier to leave my stuff, then we leave to start the night in one car?
–Sure! We can do that.
–Okay!
–I don't know, too many options...
–Well, what would you like to start with?
–Something sweet first!
–Vodka, whisky, tequila...?
–Vodka to start!
–So, there's this one, this is the tamest drink in the house, and this one, which is pretty sweet but has a stronger taste of alcohol at the end.
–I'll take the first.
–Your wish is an order.
–What is that one?
–Oh, this is my favorite! Rum, tequila, vodka, curaçao and gin, mixed with lemon juice and lemon-flavored energy drink.
–Sounds amazing! Can I prove it?
–Sure. Go ahead. Drink from the bottom to the top, that way you mix all the parts of it in one gulp.
...
–Wow, not as strong as I thought it would be.
–But it gets straight to the point quite fast. If you're not resistant for alcohol, like me.
–I think I am. I want that one next!
–You can ask for its variation, I don't remember which drink they take out, but they add whisky, and the lemon part becomes cranberry.
–Is it good?
–Well, the first time I drank it, it was damn strong and not as good as this one. But a friend of mine ordered it once and hers was really good.
–Hmm... I'll think about it!
–Both!
–Hahahaha, you sure about that?
–Yeah! Pleeeease, I know we can take that!
–I don't know...
–I promise if you become boring I'll kick you, then you don't have to worry!
–Well, somehow that doesn't quite convince me...
–Come ooooon. We'll be drunk and stubborn together!
–Ahhhh... okay. Let's take both.
–I enjoyed it.
–Me t...
segunda-feira, 14 de setembro de 2015
Gift, part 4
–You could film while you explode it, then throw it in the lake. Or maybe just throw it in the lake, filming it all. Then you send her the video.
–I don't know. I mean, I understand doing it, and to be honest I would really like to do it. Even thought about putting a dead rat inside and giving it back to her. But... won't that just continue things?
–What do you mean?
–Isn't it better to just ignore? Drink it and leave it as is. After all, it is a bottle of Sprite. And I love Sprite.
–Well, that's the more mature reaction. Though I'm not sure you are truly bent to going for such path. Are you?
–I guess so. I'm tired. And I don't want to continue this. If I do something like that I might be opening another opportunity for her to appear. I just want it all to end. Like it should have ended, if I followed advices.
–Yeah. Had you followed by my words things could be pretty different, I always tell you that. But you still refuse to accept that my advices are your salvation.
–I know, I know...
–So, no filming, exploding...?
–Nah... I don't think it will be worth it. I'd rather just drink it and then dispose of the bottle. Like any normal bottle of Sprite.
–That's good. But you know that if you want to do anything else to it, I'm all for it.
–Haha, okay.
He looked at the bottle, as if it held something ominous inside. It was just a normal bottle, with a message written into a small piece of paper, pasted with a ribbon made of adhesive tape at the top of it.
Although at first he was mad angry at the gift, later on he was being honest when he said that he didn't want to do anything more aggressive. After all, he was really tired.
And although he followed those words, he couldn't help it.
–Why are you writing her an email?
–I just need to.
–You told big sister that you did not want to continue this mess.
–I know, but I feel like I will get better by sending this message.
The room was bleak. He chose words slowly as he wrote the message. Even though he stated that he would just drink and not do anything else to the bottle, he had a need to make explicit all the ideas he and big sister had gathered. In the end, he finished it with some sort of threat.
He didn't want to see her anymore, not even a single mention of her existence. Thus he wrote. "If you want a reason to avoid seeing me, I can provide you one". Perhaps not as mature as he was acting some moments before, but it was done.
Darkness watched as the message unfolded from his thoughts.
Worried, but grinning.
–I might feel some sort of remorse from what I wrote.
–You probably will, boy.
–Yeah...
–But at least you stood for yourself, once.
–I think like that. It feels good to, I don't know, react.
–So where are you drinking it?
–I don't know. I didn't quite plan that.
–It is best to drink it as fast as you can. Or else you will keep on remembering.
–You're right.
–I am but you won't do it, will you?
–I...
–You won't. I've been observing you for some years now. And even you have already got conscious of your behavior.
–Hm... that stands... true.
–It would be better for you to calm down. Perhaps you need to stay at home for a while.
–I am calm.
–You are? And do you expect to have a response for that email?
–I don't care about an answer, I just had to send it.
–Do you believe what you say?
–Well, I kinda do.
–If you didn't care about an answer, why would you send it anyway?
–To say those things.
–If you didn't care, why would you want to say anything?
–Because it had to be said.
–But you comprehend that is not like ignoring?
–I can ignore her answer.
–Like you ignored her after the gift.
–It's different, okay?
–Perhaps for the part of you that denies you crave for her attention, yes.
–Fuck off, I need to sleep.
–You can color it any way you want to.
–I see...
The psychologist was being very helpful after all. He started seeing her not long after that day at the car. At first, it was a very awkward encounter and she had to take some time before actually engaging in what was really the meaning behind this patient.
She made it very clear that he could only talk when he felt like doing it. He could even sleep at the sofa if that was his desire. He knew that would be pretty much a waste of time though, since he went to see her to help him find some sort of cure for that tainted his thoughts. And sleeping outside of home for less than an hour, and also paying for it, wasn't going to help much.
They had some silent moments which felt plain stupid, yet her face was that of someone who got total control of the situation. It took a few weeks before they were treating the problem of enjoying hangouts. It couldn't be fully cured since there was always that feeling of not being enough when he went out with his friends, but at least it was more enjoyable. Also, he wasn't worrying so much about the money he spent when they did it.
But the real deal behind these encounters, was her.
And that was a more complicated scheme. After all, time also played a big role, and that made him impatient.
Breaking his walls wasn't so hard after all, it might have taken some time but, he wanted to speak. It was just hard to speak about the more.. deeper things. Sometimes he would mask reality a little bit (knowing that wasn't going to take anywhere better, but it was one hell of a task to speak his heart out).
She would bring activities involving games or just books to read. It was all pretty childish but it felt good. He missed doing such things, growing up was very mind consuming. Also, she gave him candy. The craving for sweets was a loud speaker.
At the current moment, he tried to color a drawing. That was one hard activity. He always got scared of coloring things because, either he would make it all yellow (as a child it resembled gold, and that was cool) or spend hours wondering what color was better for each part. And when there wasn't such freedom of choice, it would be worse, for he had a mild color blindness.
But, after a few minutes thinking, he went for an orange sky and slightly twisted color patterns for a simple grassy environment. It all went well. They talked about his choices and he explained that it felt better that way. Something close to a sunset, and the dark colors that accompanied him during his dreams.
This was one of those days in which he felt good after the appointment.
While going back home, he looked at the grey sky. Rain was coming.
The wind blew colder, refreshing.
He closed his eyes.
–Feels good, doesn't it?
–It does...
It was a brief moment. But it stood in his thoughts later.
It was in his head.
The semester was coming to an end, there would be 2 more tests for this one subject, and he needed a miracle. A few weeks before he had decided to finally take his studies seriously, after facing reality when a professor raised his grade in order for him not to fail. She trusted him. Now he had to take her trust ahead.
For one entire month, he would just go to the university, and study. He didn't see his friends. He went to the library, to classes, to anywhere he felt like reading books.
It was tiring. But it would be rewarding.
And, after all those days, he made his miracle. His grades were good enough so that he didn't even need the other 2 tests in order to be approved. After all those months feeling lost, he accomplished something.
He went out with the circle afterwards. And there were some new faces, that although not truly inside the circle at the initial formation, were hanging out with his chosen ones.
And they were nice.
And it felt good.
But coming back home, there was something strange. Perhaps the lack of immediate duty to fulfill made him feel empty. Days had passed in which he had only himself studying, and the darkness when he closed his eyes. It was some sort of company.
But now, coming back to reality, the burnout was pretty intense. And he felt somewhat away from his buddies at the circle.
It would go away soon, he thought. He just need to sleep, after all.
Tired, but not sleeping.
That was his burden. The feeling of emptiness kept him awake. His parents slept at the other room. He looked at the corner, hoping for it to be there.
This time not even darkness was there.
It felt funny.
It was always there, looming, during the night when lights went out. But that was it, he had to sleep.
For a few dozens of minutes he stood facing the wall, eyes shut. Sometimes trying to hold back all these thoughts that seemed to roar from left to right, and back again.
–Hello there.
He opened his eyes. A mixed reaction of being scared and being relieved took him by assault.
–I have two things for you this night.
–What do you mean?
–Remember when you said you wanted to ask something, since I had asked you something?
–Yes.
–Well, the name's Daven.
–...What?
–I know what you wanted to ask. So that's the answer.
–I don't even rememb... well, how do you know that? What if I wanted to ask something else?
–I saw it, don't fret about that. Now, there's the second thing.
–What is it?
–I brought you, company.
–I don't know. I mean, I understand doing it, and to be honest I would really like to do it. Even thought about putting a dead rat inside and giving it back to her. But... won't that just continue things?
–What do you mean?
–Isn't it better to just ignore? Drink it and leave it as is. After all, it is a bottle of Sprite. And I love Sprite.
–Well, that's the more mature reaction. Though I'm not sure you are truly bent to going for such path. Are you?
–I guess so. I'm tired. And I don't want to continue this. If I do something like that I might be opening another opportunity for her to appear. I just want it all to end. Like it should have ended, if I followed advices.
–Yeah. Had you followed by my words things could be pretty different, I always tell you that. But you still refuse to accept that my advices are your salvation.
–I know, I know...
–So, no filming, exploding...?
–Nah... I don't think it will be worth it. I'd rather just drink it and then dispose of the bottle. Like any normal bottle of Sprite.
–That's good. But you know that if you want to do anything else to it, I'm all for it.
–Haha, okay.
He looked at the bottle, as if it held something ominous inside. It was just a normal bottle, with a message written into a small piece of paper, pasted with a ribbon made of adhesive tape at the top of it.
Although at first he was mad angry at the gift, later on he was being honest when he said that he didn't want to do anything more aggressive. After all, he was really tired.
And although he followed those words, he couldn't help it.
–Why are you writing her an email?
–I just need to.
–You told big sister that you did not want to continue this mess.
–I know, but I feel like I will get better by sending this message.
The room was bleak. He chose words slowly as he wrote the message. Even though he stated that he would just drink and not do anything else to the bottle, he had a need to make explicit all the ideas he and big sister had gathered. In the end, he finished it with some sort of threat.
He didn't want to see her anymore, not even a single mention of her existence. Thus he wrote. "If you want a reason to avoid seeing me, I can provide you one". Perhaps not as mature as he was acting some moments before, but it was done.
Darkness watched as the message unfolded from his thoughts.
Worried, but grinning.
–I might feel some sort of remorse from what I wrote.
–You probably will, boy.
–Yeah...
–But at least you stood for yourself, once.
–I think like that. It feels good to, I don't know, react.
–So where are you drinking it?
–I don't know. I didn't quite plan that.
–It is best to drink it as fast as you can. Or else you will keep on remembering.
–You're right.
–I am but you won't do it, will you?
–I...
–You won't. I've been observing you for some years now. And even you have already got conscious of your behavior.
–Hm... that stands... true.
–It would be better for you to calm down. Perhaps you need to stay at home for a while.
–I am calm.
–You are? And do you expect to have a response for that email?
–I don't care about an answer, I just had to send it.
–Do you believe what you say?
–Well, I kinda do.
–If you didn't care about an answer, why would you send it anyway?
–To say those things.
–If you didn't care, why would you want to say anything?
–Because it had to be said.
–But you comprehend that is not like ignoring?
–I can ignore her answer.
–Like you ignored her after the gift.
–It's different, okay?
–Perhaps for the part of you that denies you crave for her attention, yes.
–Fuck off, I need to sleep.
–You can color it any way you want to.
–I see...
The psychologist was being very helpful after all. He started seeing her not long after that day at the car. At first, it was a very awkward encounter and she had to take some time before actually engaging in what was really the meaning behind this patient.
She made it very clear that he could only talk when he felt like doing it. He could even sleep at the sofa if that was his desire. He knew that would be pretty much a waste of time though, since he went to see her to help him find some sort of cure for that tainted his thoughts. And sleeping outside of home for less than an hour, and also paying for it, wasn't going to help much.
They had some silent moments which felt plain stupid, yet her face was that of someone who got total control of the situation. It took a few weeks before they were treating the problem of enjoying hangouts. It couldn't be fully cured since there was always that feeling of not being enough when he went out with his friends, but at least it was more enjoyable. Also, he wasn't worrying so much about the money he spent when they did it.
But the real deal behind these encounters, was her.
And that was a more complicated scheme. After all, time also played a big role, and that made him impatient.
Breaking his walls wasn't so hard after all, it might have taken some time but, he wanted to speak. It was just hard to speak about the more.. deeper things. Sometimes he would mask reality a little bit (knowing that wasn't going to take anywhere better, but it was one hell of a task to speak his heart out).
She would bring activities involving games or just books to read. It was all pretty childish but it felt good. He missed doing such things, growing up was very mind consuming. Also, she gave him candy. The craving for sweets was a loud speaker.
At the current moment, he tried to color a drawing. That was one hard activity. He always got scared of coloring things because, either he would make it all yellow (as a child it resembled gold, and that was cool) or spend hours wondering what color was better for each part. And when there wasn't such freedom of choice, it would be worse, for he had a mild color blindness.
But, after a few minutes thinking, he went for an orange sky and slightly twisted color patterns for a simple grassy environment. It all went well. They talked about his choices and he explained that it felt better that way. Something close to a sunset, and the dark colors that accompanied him during his dreams.
This was one of those days in which he felt good after the appointment.
While going back home, he looked at the grey sky. Rain was coming.
The wind blew colder, refreshing.
He closed his eyes.
–Feels good, doesn't it?
–It does...
It was a brief moment. But it stood in his thoughts later.
It was in his head.
The semester was coming to an end, there would be 2 more tests for this one subject, and he needed a miracle. A few weeks before he had decided to finally take his studies seriously, after facing reality when a professor raised his grade in order for him not to fail. She trusted him. Now he had to take her trust ahead.
For one entire month, he would just go to the university, and study. He didn't see his friends. He went to the library, to classes, to anywhere he felt like reading books.
It was tiring. But it would be rewarding.
And, after all those days, he made his miracle. His grades were good enough so that he didn't even need the other 2 tests in order to be approved. After all those months feeling lost, he accomplished something.
He went out with the circle afterwards. And there were some new faces, that although not truly inside the circle at the initial formation, were hanging out with his chosen ones.
And they were nice.
And it felt good.
But coming back home, there was something strange. Perhaps the lack of immediate duty to fulfill made him feel empty. Days had passed in which he had only himself studying, and the darkness when he closed his eyes. It was some sort of company.
But now, coming back to reality, the burnout was pretty intense. And he felt somewhat away from his buddies at the circle.
It would go away soon, he thought. He just need to sleep, after all.
Tired, but not sleeping.
That was his burden. The feeling of emptiness kept him awake. His parents slept at the other room. He looked at the corner, hoping for it to be there.
This time not even darkness was there.
It felt funny.
It was always there, looming, during the night when lights went out. But that was it, he had to sleep.
For a few dozens of minutes he stood facing the wall, eyes shut. Sometimes trying to hold back all these thoughts that seemed to roar from left to right, and back again.
–Hello there.
He opened his eyes. A mixed reaction of being scared and being relieved took him by assault.
–I have two things for you this night.
–What do you mean?
–Remember when you said you wanted to ask something, since I had asked you something?
–Yes.
–Well, the name's Daven.
–...What?
–I know what you wanted to ask. So that's the answer.
–I don't even rememb... well, how do you know that? What if I wanted to ask something else?
–I saw it, don't fret about that. Now, there's the second thing.
–What is it?
–I brought you, company.
quarta-feira, 9 de setembro de 2015
Gift, part 3
The car was stopped.
He rested his head above his arms, crossed over the steering wheel. His eyes gazing into nothingness. The buildings around silenced at the approach of the glooming vehicle.
It couldn't be defined. There were no words in that head to define what was that feeling. What could it be? Even the best try would fail. And he didn't care about giving it a name. It just dragged into the abyss. Sometimes slowly like an old hand, decided and holding firm, albeit weak by the ages. Other times like a massive boulder rolling back and forth. The dim light that came from one of the buildings seemed to be ashamed of crossing the window's glass. A more curious eye could notice that it slowly faded away.
And its strength also followed that path.
Right beside him, the shades made their best efforts into piling up.
–Drive to big sister's house...
The eyes kept facing nowhere.
–You have to drive...
Perhaps those eyes were somewhere closer than his thoughts. He just wanted to make it all go away. But there wasn't any way to achieve that.
–DRIVE TO HER HOUSE.
He lowered his head. Even though it seemed as if hope had given one more step into the horizon, he took one arm away from the steering wheel. Little by little, he let his body lie against the seat.
He had an idea.
There was someone who would be there for him.
The two were sitting close to the front door, outside the house. There was a path of stones that led to a gate. He looked at these stones as they spoke.
She wanted to help, as she worried about him. But, as they had already stated in past events, he never followed her advices. Yet it felt good to be there and listen to them. He felt a bit ashamed, the whole situation was so silly and his acts were childish. She was having troubles of her own and had to finish a paper for her final semester. But there they were.
The weak lighting made him feel better. It felt more like home, somehow. Perhaps because in the movies, many serious moments took place in locations not so well lit. He wondered about that, but that seemed a feasible explanation.
–Why don't you try a psychologist?
–I thought about it before but I... I never took it seriously.
–Well, you could try, you know. It's not like that was meant for loonies, it can help. And it won't kill you.
–I can try.
–For real, this time?
–I guess...
–Dude, don't say "I guess...". Look at you now, you need to fix this shit. Try it for real, but don't try once and give up. I went to one that was problematic, you remember that, don't you? Then, she didn't help at all. But now I found one that works like a charm. It's nice.
–Yeah, I know, I'll try.
–Really?
–For real.
–And you also need to keep away from her.
–I know.
–You always know, but you never do. Do I have to remember you all the things I said about that?
–No, I know...
–You can't just keep on sacrificing yourself like that. It's not worth it. Pretty much no one in this world is worth it.
He looked downwards.
–Yeah...
–And you don't depend on someone else to be happy. You need to understand that.
Though he knew she was right, and that he wanted to change it all, he knew it was a walk into a brick wall.
At least that helped. It was good to have someone saying something. Silence meant listening to what loomed inside his mind.
–I'd rather you keep playing here.
–I know. But I need to change the way I behave.
–Does that mean changing who you are?
–It's not as drastic.
–You remember what went on a few months ago.
–I do. But that doesn't mean I have to just disappear inside my house. Normal people do that, we go out with people, have fun, see if anything else can happen. That's part of the game.
–But do you feel like any of these girls... are worth it?
–That's a bad way of putting it. I'm not falling for them, but they are nice companies.
–Nice companies. Well, I guess that answers it.
–My turn now.
–Your turn, boy?
–You asked a question, I ask one now.
It vanished.
He didn't care. Moving on with how the game was played was more important. It didn't matter if it seemed to drag on forever, in his head perhaps it was more of a test of resilience. Until you achieve a stage in which things get better, and all that came before could be justified.
He left the girl at the church. It was over now. But it felt better that way. He didn't like any of them, and it didn't matter how much he wanted to play the "normal game", a part of him just felt bad. It felt unfair for those girls.
Hating to admit it, he couldn't make it past that feeling.
It was a bad moment, talking about those things to explain why they wouldn't keep on seeing each other. But at least, at the very least, she seemed to understand. Was she lying when she said that it was a good thing that he at least spoke, instead of just disappearing like men normally do, it was irrelevant.
He would get back to being alone now, without the sinking feeling of making others feel bad. Others who had nothing to do with his stupid ideas.
Felt good. Somehow.
And so he drove back home. Convinced that this time it was a good choice. Just cruising through the city, knowing that soon he would be at home and ready to play some games. Parents were abroad, and that just summed up to the good mood. Not that he disliked them, but it felt great being home alone.
It's however a shame that things weren't made to last.
As soon as he got close to the building's gatehouse, a voice called him.
The man behind the gatehouse delivered him the bottle.
A bottle with a cute message. After all these months.
From her.
He rested his head above his arms, crossed over the steering wheel. His eyes gazing into nothingness. The buildings around silenced at the approach of the glooming vehicle.
It couldn't be defined. There were no words in that head to define what was that feeling. What could it be? Even the best try would fail. And he didn't care about giving it a name. It just dragged into the abyss. Sometimes slowly like an old hand, decided and holding firm, albeit weak by the ages. Other times like a massive boulder rolling back and forth. The dim light that came from one of the buildings seemed to be ashamed of crossing the window's glass. A more curious eye could notice that it slowly faded away.
And its strength also followed that path.
Right beside him, the shades made their best efforts into piling up.
–Drive to big sister's house...
The eyes kept facing nowhere.
–You have to drive...
Perhaps those eyes were somewhere closer than his thoughts. He just wanted to make it all go away. But there wasn't any way to achieve that.
–DRIVE TO HER HOUSE.
He lowered his head. Even though it seemed as if hope had given one more step into the horizon, he took one arm away from the steering wheel. Little by little, he let his body lie against the seat.
He had an idea.
There was someone who would be there for him.
The two were sitting close to the front door, outside the house. There was a path of stones that led to a gate. He looked at these stones as they spoke.
She wanted to help, as she worried about him. But, as they had already stated in past events, he never followed her advices. Yet it felt good to be there and listen to them. He felt a bit ashamed, the whole situation was so silly and his acts were childish. She was having troubles of her own and had to finish a paper for her final semester. But there they were.
The weak lighting made him feel better. It felt more like home, somehow. Perhaps because in the movies, many serious moments took place in locations not so well lit. He wondered about that, but that seemed a feasible explanation.
–Why don't you try a psychologist?
–I thought about it before but I... I never took it seriously.
–Well, you could try, you know. It's not like that was meant for loonies, it can help. And it won't kill you.
–I can try.
–For real, this time?
–I guess...
–Dude, don't say "I guess...". Look at you now, you need to fix this shit. Try it for real, but don't try once and give up. I went to one that was problematic, you remember that, don't you? Then, she didn't help at all. But now I found one that works like a charm. It's nice.
–Yeah, I know, I'll try.
–Really?
–For real.
–And you also need to keep away from her.
–I know.
–You always know, but you never do. Do I have to remember you all the things I said about that?
–No, I know...
–You can't just keep on sacrificing yourself like that. It's not worth it. Pretty much no one in this world is worth it.
He looked downwards.
–Yeah...
–And you don't depend on someone else to be happy. You need to understand that.
Though he knew she was right, and that he wanted to change it all, he knew it was a walk into a brick wall.
At least that helped. It was good to have someone saying something. Silence meant listening to what loomed inside his mind.
–I'd rather you keep playing here.
–I know. But I need to change the way I behave.
–Does that mean changing who you are?
–It's not as drastic.
–You remember what went on a few months ago.
–I do. But that doesn't mean I have to just disappear inside my house. Normal people do that, we go out with people, have fun, see if anything else can happen. That's part of the game.
–But do you feel like any of these girls... are worth it?
–That's a bad way of putting it. I'm not falling for them, but they are nice companies.
–Nice companies. Well, I guess that answers it.
–My turn now.
–Your turn, boy?
–You asked a question, I ask one now.
It vanished.
He didn't care. Moving on with how the game was played was more important. It didn't matter if it seemed to drag on forever, in his head perhaps it was more of a test of resilience. Until you achieve a stage in which things get better, and all that came before could be justified.
He left the girl at the church. It was over now. But it felt better that way. He didn't like any of them, and it didn't matter how much he wanted to play the "normal game", a part of him just felt bad. It felt unfair for those girls.
Hating to admit it, he couldn't make it past that feeling.
It was a bad moment, talking about those things to explain why they wouldn't keep on seeing each other. But at least, at the very least, she seemed to understand. Was she lying when she said that it was a good thing that he at least spoke, instead of just disappearing like men normally do, it was irrelevant.
He would get back to being alone now, without the sinking feeling of making others feel bad. Others who had nothing to do with his stupid ideas.
Felt good. Somehow.
And so he drove back home. Convinced that this time it was a good choice. Just cruising through the city, knowing that soon he would be at home and ready to play some games. Parents were abroad, and that just summed up to the good mood. Not that he disliked them, but it felt great being home alone.
It's however a shame that things weren't made to last.
As soon as he got close to the building's gatehouse, a voice called him.
The man behind the gatehouse delivered him the bottle.
A bottle with a cute message. After all these months.
From her.
segunda-feira, 7 de setembro de 2015
What in the world happened to you
I remember how you were. I can still see those eyes if I close mine. A shine unlike any other.
I can remembee what you were before. And perhaps that is what hurts the most. If I could do anything to bring you back, I would. But it is beyond my reach. You are beyond me now, even if I can see you here, right by my side. I know you are not here, not anywhere I can see.
And it scares me, to think of all you could have been, to state that things can go away and we probably won't notice it until it is out of control. I don't know what happened, or when, I can only live with the feeling that, had I paid close attention to details, you would still be here. I have no idea what to do, I watch as your days pass and it devours my heart seeing all those possibilities fly through the void. The emptiness in your eyes leave me dazed, I can't fight that. If by looking straight inside these windows I could at least transfer a part of the power I still have, so maybe you could see the way back...
I am out of guns here. And that angers me. For I was the one who promised to watch. And I couldn't stand even when one of the biggest treasures was taken.
I wish I could do anything, but it seems all I have left are these words.
Please, come back.
I can remembee what you were before. And perhaps that is what hurts the most. If I could do anything to bring you back, I would. But it is beyond my reach. You are beyond me now, even if I can see you here, right by my side. I know you are not here, not anywhere I can see.
And it scares me, to think of all you could have been, to state that things can go away and we probably won't notice it until it is out of control. I don't know what happened, or when, I can only live with the feeling that, had I paid close attention to details, you would still be here. I have no idea what to do, I watch as your days pass and it devours my heart seeing all those possibilities fly through the void. The emptiness in your eyes leave me dazed, I can't fight that. If by looking straight inside these windows I could at least transfer a part of the power I still have, so maybe you could see the way back...
I am out of guns here. And that angers me. For I was the one who promised to watch. And I couldn't stand even when one of the biggest treasures was taken.
I wish I could do anything, but it seems all I have left are these words.
Please, come back.
quarta-feira, 2 de setembro de 2015
Gift, part 2
They were all there at the grass, some sitting, some lying there, staring at the sky. A group of friends from the university, just chatting for a while, forming a circle. But it wasn't his "circle".
It was a dark night, the university's lights weren't very bright but perhaps that is what gave that place its charm. Old-looking buildings and nature.
As he walked, something in his guts bewildered him. "Perhaps that's a bad idea", the words silently took hold of him. The more he thought, the slower he walked.
But he had to, he was the one who asked to meet her. At least he would keep his word, and that was enough. Even if it took a long time, he would get there. Perhaps it was just the fear of speaking to people, perhaps it was just the fear of speaking about things he left chained down below. There were just so many hypotheses and fears that trying to understand became more of a tedious chore than a comprehensive quest.
He stared at them for a while, as if deciding if he would really take this ahead.
But it was too late for decisions, they had already seen him, and one girl had already raised her hand, waving at him.
He greeted her and her friend, and a bunch of the other humans present there. He was acquainted with a handful of them, nice guys. It just wasn't a very good day for such...
He started to talk, it was hard to get to the point. Most of the time he tried to run around in topics, rare times would he start firing what had to be fired.
But he didn't want to fire that.
She wasn't a part of it. But had she been, would it be any different?
Coming to think of it, the answer pointed to a negative. He stopped speaking and just thought about that question. It looked like a waste of time. One big waste of time for all involved.
–But, what did you want to talk about? You seemed strange.
He gulped. "Nowhere to run now, what are you going to do?".
–Well, it's a little bit awkward...
She gazed at him, as someone expecting for a comet that only shows up once every dozen years.
–You know, it is quite weird to talk about these things. I don't talk much about it. I mostly try to speak about funny things in order to make people laugh.
She just paid attention.
A long sigh.
–Have you ever felt like, you're not a part of this world?
–What do you mean?
–I mean, not being normal at all. Thinking strange things, liking strange things, not being able to connect to people...
–I might get it but, why do you say that?
–I don't know, I just have this horrible feeling. And I think of all the strange things that I think that are so different from what normal guys think. I can't play the game by their rules, but everyone seems to play by the same rules.
–Being normal is a complicated concept, no one's actually normal.
–I know but, I am... stupid.
–You're not stupid.
–Why do I feel stupid then? Why do I feel these things? I don't understand what is going on.
Her friend turned her head toward them.
–I can't date girls I don't like. It feels ridiculous because, that is the normal thing. But it gives a bad sensation whenever I try to do it. As if it was wrong.
–Then don't do it.
–But that's what normal people do.
–You don't need to do it, anyway.
–But I don't like being alone.
–Well, you don't need to be, you can call your friends, you can go out, like right now.
–But it's not their problem also. And, I like going out with them and all that but, there's always this strange feeling when I have to go home. I want more. But I don't know how to achieve this... "more". I feel like I bother then sometimes, I worry about everyone too much, I start to invade their personal space in order to help them.
–You don't seem like someone that worries about everyone so much...
–Not everyone, I said that in the meaning of everyone I care. I mostly care about those around me, others are just... well...
And it went on.
Slowly, the menacing feeling gave place to a fragile tranquility. It was weird to expose such things, but it brought a curious reaction inside him.
And a few meters from there a lamp blew.
Darkness watched.
Until the boy rested his head in her lap as the girls continued to listen to him.
Sunday night, past 11 p.m.
Once again, he kept his eyes shut, hoping to sleep soon. For some reason, Sunday seemed to be the worst day to sleep at night. Perhaps because Friday and Saturday were days with no fixed time to go to bed. Having to sleep and feeling like sleeping were so different...
He always found it funny to open his eyes after a while. The room wasn't as dark as before. A gray light seemed to take place.
But nothing he did would help in sleeping, sometimes he would try to breath in heavily and breath out slowly. Some doctor once told him that was a way to become a calmer person. But it was irrelevant. And thinking about it only detracted him from the objective.
–You don't need to force yourself so much.
–But I have to wake up early tomorrow.
–Indeed... but do you really believe keeping there at bed will help?
–Maybe, sometimes I sleep.
–And many times you stay there for hours. Why don't you get up and do something else?
–Not sure... I will be tired tomorrow if I do that.
–But you can be tired of trying to sleep so much and getting so little of it. Right?
–Right.
The freedom that idea brought was amazing. It was wrong but he couldn't help it. In a couple of minutes, he got up, and turned on the computer. If sleeping wasn't an option, playing was. Still standing up, he looked at the light switch.
–That's not a good idea. Your parents might see the light and they'll know you're not trying to sleep.
That convinced him.
And for a few hours, he had the joy of a Sunday to Monday transition.
It was a stupid idea from the start.
They barely talked to each other anymore. Still, he wanted to see her. Even though he shouldn't as they wouldn't work together. But it felt relieving to keep images of her company inside his mind. The day had been weird and that was enough of a reason for breaking the rules.
He drove to her block, thinking of what he had seen earlier.
His friend's broken relationship had really gotten to him. And also, that mushy message on the website. Had he focused on thinking about the barbecue he attended that same day, perhaps he wouldn't let these two things connect.
But that was a possibility on another dimension by then. That night, he waited, parked close to her block. Thinking on what was he doing, or what would he do. Anxiety flooded the car's interior. And somewhere closer.
His eyes caught what seemed to be a couple in the distance.
Still wondering whether he should carry this ahead or not, he looked at this phone. She might not even be home, she might be sleeping, she could not even want to talk to him, but she said whenever he needed her, she would help him...
Many things could be... anything could be. His mind raced while the body just held the phone and the eyes stared at it.
She could be having fun with her friends, or maybe watching a movie, or maybe...
Now his eyes couldn't move away from that couple. Could it be? The possibilities danced in his head, a fierce waltz that trampled his body and left him out of breath.
Albeit the street lamps, something moved toward the car.
He got enough courage and dialed the number.
It started to move faster, avoiding the circles where illumination hit most.
He called her.
It stopped.
Somewhere close to the car, a phone started to ring. Very close, as in, under the block.
His senses rapidly swinged, the sound was coming from that couple. Could it be mere coincidence?
After some ringing, he cancelled the call. And the sound stopped. That song stopped. A song that could easily be from her phone, from a band she liked, coming from that couple.
It was only right.
Time to go away. The night seemed to get a bit darker.
–Don't worry, boy. It will be okay.
It said from inside the car.
It was a dark night, the university's lights weren't very bright but perhaps that is what gave that place its charm. Old-looking buildings and nature.
As he walked, something in his guts bewildered him. "Perhaps that's a bad idea", the words silently took hold of him. The more he thought, the slower he walked.
But he had to, he was the one who asked to meet her. At least he would keep his word, and that was enough. Even if it took a long time, he would get there. Perhaps it was just the fear of speaking to people, perhaps it was just the fear of speaking about things he left chained down below. There were just so many hypotheses and fears that trying to understand became more of a tedious chore than a comprehensive quest.
He stared at them for a while, as if deciding if he would really take this ahead.
But it was too late for decisions, they had already seen him, and one girl had already raised her hand, waving at him.
He greeted her and her friend, and a bunch of the other humans present there. He was acquainted with a handful of them, nice guys. It just wasn't a very good day for such...
He started to talk, it was hard to get to the point. Most of the time he tried to run around in topics, rare times would he start firing what had to be fired.
But he didn't want to fire that.
She wasn't a part of it. But had she been, would it be any different?
Coming to think of it, the answer pointed to a negative. He stopped speaking and just thought about that question. It looked like a waste of time. One big waste of time for all involved.
–But, what did you want to talk about? You seemed strange.
He gulped. "Nowhere to run now, what are you going to do?".
–Well, it's a little bit awkward...
She gazed at him, as someone expecting for a comet that only shows up once every dozen years.
–You know, it is quite weird to talk about these things. I don't talk much about it. I mostly try to speak about funny things in order to make people laugh.
She just paid attention.
A long sigh.
–Have you ever felt like, you're not a part of this world?
–What do you mean?
–I mean, not being normal at all. Thinking strange things, liking strange things, not being able to connect to people...
–I might get it but, why do you say that?
–I don't know, I just have this horrible feeling. And I think of all the strange things that I think that are so different from what normal guys think. I can't play the game by their rules, but everyone seems to play by the same rules.
–Being normal is a complicated concept, no one's actually normal.
–I know but, I am... stupid.
–You're not stupid.
–Why do I feel stupid then? Why do I feel these things? I don't understand what is going on.
Her friend turned her head toward them.
–I can't date girls I don't like. It feels ridiculous because, that is the normal thing. But it gives a bad sensation whenever I try to do it. As if it was wrong.
–Then don't do it.
–But that's what normal people do.
–You don't need to do it, anyway.
–But I don't like being alone.
–Well, you don't need to be, you can call your friends, you can go out, like right now.
–But it's not their problem also. And, I like going out with them and all that but, there's always this strange feeling when I have to go home. I want more. But I don't know how to achieve this... "more". I feel like I bother then sometimes, I worry about everyone too much, I start to invade their personal space in order to help them.
–You don't seem like someone that worries about everyone so much...
–Not everyone, I said that in the meaning of everyone I care. I mostly care about those around me, others are just... well...
And it went on.
Slowly, the menacing feeling gave place to a fragile tranquility. It was weird to expose such things, but it brought a curious reaction inside him.
And a few meters from there a lamp blew.
Darkness watched.
Until the boy rested his head in her lap as the girls continued to listen to him.
Sunday night, past 11 p.m.
Once again, he kept his eyes shut, hoping to sleep soon. For some reason, Sunday seemed to be the worst day to sleep at night. Perhaps because Friday and Saturday were days with no fixed time to go to bed. Having to sleep and feeling like sleeping were so different...
He always found it funny to open his eyes after a while. The room wasn't as dark as before. A gray light seemed to take place.
But nothing he did would help in sleeping, sometimes he would try to breath in heavily and breath out slowly. Some doctor once told him that was a way to become a calmer person. But it was irrelevant. And thinking about it only detracted him from the objective.
–You don't need to force yourself so much.
–But I have to wake up early tomorrow.
–Indeed... but do you really believe keeping there at bed will help?
–Maybe, sometimes I sleep.
–And many times you stay there for hours. Why don't you get up and do something else?
–Not sure... I will be tired tomorrow if I do that.
–But you can be tired of trying to sleep so much and getting so little of it. Right?
–Right.
The freedom that idea brought was amazing. It was wrong but he couldn't help it. In a couple of minutes, he got up, and turned on the computer. If sleeping wasn't an option, playing was. Still standing up, he looked at the light switch.
–That's not a good idea. Your parents might see the light and they'll know you're not trying to sleep.
That convinced him.
And for a few hours, he had the joy of a Sunday to Monday transition.
It was a stupid idea from the start.
They barely talked to each other anymore. Still, he wanted to see her. Even though he shouldn't as they wouldn't work together. But it felt relieving to keep images of her company inside his mind. The day had been weird and that was enough of a reason for breaking the rules.
He drove to her block, thinking of what he had seen earlier.
His friend's broken relationship had really gotten to him. And also, that mushy message on the website. Had he focused on thinking about the barbecue he attended that same day, perhaps he wouldn't let these two things connect.
But that was a possibility on another dimension by then. That night, he waited, parked close to her block. Thinking on what was he doing, or what would he do. Anxiety flooded the car's interior. And somewhere closer.
His eyes caught what seemed to be a couple in the distance.
Still wondering whether he should carry this ahead or not, he looked at this phone. She might not even be home, she might be sleeping, she could not even want to talk to him, but she said whenever he needed her, she would help him...
Many things could be... anything could be. His mind raced while the body just held the phone and the eyes stared at it.
She could be having fun with her friends, or maybe watching a movie, or maybe...
Now his eyes couldn't move away from that couple. Could it be? The possibilities danced in his head, a fierce waltz that trampled his body and left him out of breath.
Albeit the street lamps, something moved toward the car.
He got enough courage and dialed the number.
It started to move faster, avoiding the circles where illumination hit most.
He called her.
It stopped.
Somewhere close to the car, a phone started to ring. Very close, as in, under the block.
His senses rapidly swinged, the sound was coming from that couple. Could it be mere coincidence?
After some ringing, he cancelled the call. And the sound stopped. That song stopped. A song that could easily be from her phone, from a band she liked, coming from that couple.
It was only right.
Time to go away. The night seemed to get a bit darker.
–Don't worry, boy. It will be okay.
It said from inside the car.
Assinar:
Postagens (Atom)