Him and i - Dreams of trauma

i'm…it was a dream. i'm still laying on my back, only the compass lighting. i get up in an instant and turn on the lights. Vertigo is keeping the room in darkness for a few seconds more, and then my sight comes back. Light. Safe.

i go to my body, it's like before, lifeless. i cover it with the sheet and then i go to the burned victim to cover him too. As i see him, i start to think about Matt and the moment he set himself on fire. He was so instantly covered in flames. i should check on him, see how's he holding up. i hope he's alright.

i cover the burned and get out of the morgue. i go upstairs and am greeted by a hospital even more chaotic than when i came here. i get out where i'm greeted by a dark blue sky. Not much till it turns into a light blue and then the sun gets up. i pull out my phone, it's almost 5 o'clock. The battery it's still at 19% and it won't go lower. i look at the map on the phone to see where the Burn clinic is, i light up another cigarette and go.

The road is empty at this hour. i walk again in the middle of the boulevard, but this time i want to try something. i wait for a car to come up. i look behind and keep checking until one comes up the street. i see it coming towards me, i place myself in front of its trajectory, and turn my back to it. And eyeballing its speed, i make my body solid 2 seconds after the car would've hit me normally. i crash right in the backseat of the car. i've made it. i did a hitch-hike on the move. Without needing to stop the car. The driver has no idea.

i grab the handle from above the door and reposition myself better. i didn't land quite perfect, half of my back was in the backseat, right hand was stuck in the front chair and my legs were sticking out through the floor. After two streets, i see that the driver is not following the same route i was interested in, so i slip outside.

Landing smooth on my feet, and i continue walking on the street i needed to go on. Like before, in the middle of the road, waiting for a car to pass by. This time a van comes in my way, goes through me, and i land in the back cargo space. i get my head in the front cabin, but i see there are already two guys on the bench, and with me it'd be a little too overcrowded. i get back and get half of my body out of the lateral of the van. Now i can see where we're heading. i keep this position the whole ride, half out, half in, until we reach the hospital. The van passes right in front of it, and i jump out leaving the van to go on its way.

i get inside, up on the first floor and into the first room. i see just mummies. All patients are bandaged all over their bodies, including their faces. i can't check one face. It's impossible to see if Matt is one of them. But it can't be, Matt wasn't looking that bad when the firemen took him. He must be well, he shouldn't even have a face bandage.

i get out of the room and get into the next one. Almost the same, i look just at those who don't have their face covered, and leave this room too. i keep going through rooms until i reach an area with doors that say minor burns, and go through those doors until i get in a room where there's just Matt.

The other beds were empty. Matt was laying in his, but wasn't sleeping. He was just looking out the window, at the sky. Near his bed was an empty chair. I think about Andreea, she's not here, with him. i don't know but in that moment, when i saw her with Matt, after he passed out, there still was a spark of love in her eyes. i saw that she still cared.

If something would happen to me…too late…Sarah probably hadn't found out about me yet…

The door behind me opens, and in come his grandparents. At their sight, i instinctively throw the cigarette out the window, without thinking on where it might land, or if they could've even seen me or smell me. i guess i was used to hide from them, at Matt's request. my parents didn't have a thing against my smoking, but his grandparents, they didn't even want to hear. They cared, a lot, about me, us.

The old lady passes through me and gets closer to Matt's bed. Grandpa stays behind and watches. There's something weighting on them. They're both quiet, hesitant, sad. They're about to tell him. From outside shines in, a bright white light that blinds me for a second. The sun is up, and his first ray came onto me like its sole purpose was to attack me. To blind me and make me forget about this horrible moment, this revelation.

"…i'm sorry."

i turn to Matt…my sight comes back to me and…she told him…he's devastated. i sit on the chair near him, and watch him…it's not fair…

"How?"

"Car accident. he didn't suffer."

"Oh but i am…"

Matt starts crying. He tried to hold it in but… His grandpa gets out of the room, his grandma looks at him, tries to caress him but he wants to be left alone. She realizes she can't help with this, so she leaves too.

"i…"

i haven't suffered at all, but there are others that suffer more than enough, for me. And i am suffering now… If i would've just disappeared from their lives, from their memories. Then… i shouldn't wish this… i already got where i am because of a dumb wish.

There's no reason for me to stay here, Matt's crying, and i just can't comfort him. i climb the edge of the window and prepare myself to jump.

"Andreea left me, twice, and now you…?"

i turn my head to him, he's feeling lonely, he is alone. i jump.

"Why?!"

i get down and light another cigarette. i start walking. i don't know where. i'd like to see how George's doing, but i don't want to see him right now. i have to do something else. In this long walking of mine, i pass by a showcase, filled with books, it's a bookshop. i know i got a message from the publisher, they're going to publish my book. i don't remember exactly when this happened, but i could swear i got a message that stated this.

It was in the dream, one of the two envelopes. It didn't happen also in reality… Even though, everything else that i dreamt, or what i know i had dreamt, because who knows, with these dreams that keep coming back to me, but everything else that i dreamt, and know of, happened in the real world too. It would be the cherry on top, if only this one, didn't happen in reality. i'm going to the publisher, i want to know what has been decided.

i go to the publishing house from which i'm waiting for my verdict. i pass the entrance doors, and start walking around the rows filled with bookshelves. At the ground-floor is the bookshop part, here i feel amongst my peers. These writers are in the same situation as me. i'm not feeling alone here, with so many dead people, but which are still alive through their creations. But i'm not alive through my creation…but my mistake…

At the first floor, where the publishing is done, i see less people. They just opened their doors. The time is a little over 8 in the morning. In fact, the bookshop wasn't open either, the people that i saw entering were just the employees preparing to start their shift, or the employees that work at the publishing house.

The one that recommended himself as being my new agent hasn't got here yet. i go down, back to the bookshelves, and sit somewhere, on a modern and uncomfortable chair, and open the first book that i can reach with my hand. It's written by a Romanian author. i turn it over and read the description. It's about a gipsy that climbs the steps of society, starting from the first step, where he worked as a street sweeper, until the last one, where he's the most successful Romanian entrepreneur. He danced by their rules until he finished his dance, and now he's the one setting the rhythm of the dance.

i put the book on the shelve, back from where i took it, and take another one. The hidden life of hackers, watched through the eyes of a young boy, new in that life, that tries to prove to his parents that he isn't the failure they see. The young boy fights against his own nature to be a successful man, against criminality and even pure evil, at the same time, fighting with his own weaknesses, and trying to swim against the current into a sea of corruption. Both are written by the same author.

i put this book back too in the same spot and get up. i leave the Romanian authors section and walk to the fiction corner. i see a book with clouds and ships that fly, drawn on the cover, i turn it over and read the back. When people try to escape their reality, they choose the new way to get out of their lives, and are sent to a fantastic world, where science works after different rules. World created within a simulation, each enters a different world, created by their own brain, after their tastes. World that seems more real than reality itself, and an event that put the sleeping participants in danger, makes them doubt both worlds afterwards. Makes them doubt their own reality.

This one sounds more interesting. A bell rings, and the bookshop door closes, i place the book back and head to the main hallway. The sign on the door is reversed. They started the work and opened the bookshop. No clients yet. i turn back to my fiction corner and choose another book.

i hear the doorbell again, i raise my eyes, short after the bell, a woman comes on my row and starts looking at the titles. She's looking for something specific, searching alphabetically, makes two steps towards me and stops right in front of me. She reacts. Her hand reaches quickly towards my head, stopping just a few centimetres to the right, and grabs a book. She looks for a second at it, forth and back, and then she goes quickly away, to pay for it. She was in a hurry.

i return my sight back to my book, on the cover i see lots of Chinese signs, a huge, odd building drawn on the background, and something in Romanian written under the image. What the hell, is the book in Chinese? i open it, and jump through the passages and sentences. Romanian words fill this book. i close it and check the back cover.

It's the short description, in Romanian: Some legal reasons, force a family of nobles to hide in the lawless city. A kid ripped away from luxury and then thrown at the last level of the earth's hell, learns how to survive. Another kid, just two years older, already born in the fires of this hell, teaches the protagonist the 1000 rules to live. It's the duty of the native to teach the boy how to live in this hell. Follow the story of the two kids, that fight to survive in the neighbourhood of 50.000 souls, formed just by a block. Learn from them, the rules of life and how to excel it even in the capital of failure.

Story seems interesting, i'd like to read this one. i open at the first page and start, but i don't get too far. A noise breaks my attention, and i can't get myself to read the words at all. It's a voice, a voice that conquers all of my thoughts right now, and doesn't let me have some of my own. i don't understand what it says, but it doesn't matter, it caught my attention and destroyed my concentration. i recognize this style of talking. i leave the book on a chair and head to the hallway.

It's my agent, i knew i recognized it, he has this odd style of talking, amazingly fast, loud, and puts accent on different words, as if he's trying to lead where does the discussion goes. And sometimes, the accents, i feel are thrown there just to see if you still are paying attention to him. He can't be interrupted, he can't be thrown off the subject. If he starts the conversation, he won the conversation. Whatever could be won from a conversation.

i see him going up the stairs, after a small talk with an employee from the bookshop section, the employee looks stunned after the exchange of words that just happened. i go after him upstairs, and follow him to his desk. i never saw his desk until now, we only talked in the meeting room, or we met in the city. i sit on a chair, at the desk next to his, and follow him with my eyes to see how he starts his day.

He takes off his hoodie and puts it on the back of his chair, he puts his bag on the desk and sits down on the chair. He doesn't even get to touch the chair with his ass that he instantly stands back up. By his look, i see he's looking for someone, and as soon as he chose his target, he starts in this normal walking, but at sprint speed, towards his target. A woman that just arrived too, and just sat down at her desk. His energy is, something else, especially for this time of the day. He can't wait to talk with someone.

"You got any answer?"

"Not yet."

"he didn't answer?"

"No."

"Not even on the phone? Had you tried his phone, his mobile phone number? Have you tried to call him?"

She just nods her head, no.

"Not on the phone, not at the messages or letters or whatever. Why isn't that kid answering me already?"

Is he talking about me? i see him going back to his desk and sitting down with an energy and force, as if he has his own gravitation that pulls him up, and he has to force himself down on his ass. He takes the bag and pulls out a book from it.

"What the hell am I to do with this unfinished book? And it isn't much to do to finish it already. Is he having a writer's block, or how do they call it nowadays? I can't believe this, writer's block, a new way of saying, i'm too lazy to do it, but it's a thing that happens to me rather than me doing everything else, but writing. I mean… Can't he do just this trivial thing?"

He opens the book, flips through the pages quickly like he knows exactly where to stop, and stops with his finger already waiting under a row. He starts reading moving his finger.

"It can't be, it's unchanged."

He slams the book on the desk and starts looking through the papers, letters, everything he had on his desk. As he goes through it all, everything he doesn't need, he throws at the end of his long desk. Most of them fall down, but he doesn't care.

"Did he not get the letter at least? Not even the letter? Did he get the letter?!"

Bogdan raises his body over his desk and looks at the woman that he just talked to. She looks at him unfazed, and mimics that she doesn't know. He sits back down on the chair and instantly starts spinning with it. With his gaze stuck on the ceiling, he starts sighing.

"Incredible, something like this…just unbelievable."

He gets up from his chair, again.

"I'm going to him, if he doesn't want to come to me, I'll pay him a visit… Right?"

He looks at the woman, waiting for an answer from her, but she doesn't bother too much.

"I want to at least know if he started working on it, if there even is something to start, he just has to do it, it's that simple. I want to know what he's doing, I want to know something, what the hell am I to do?"

i too get up from the chair and follow him. He goes to take his hoodie, and goes towards the stairs. No, you can't go to my place, i'm not…actually, yes, go to my place. Maybe you'll find my parents and sign a contract with them, for my book. They have problems with money, and this would help them.

"No, I'd better leave him be, give him some space. I trust him, he looked like a serious boy. And if he doesn't answer after all, that's it, there are other writers."

Of course. What did i expect… i get out of the building and head to my apartment. After all, i did got a letter from the publisher. It wasn't just in my dream, but i haven't saw the letter yesterday, maybe it got lost on the way, or it's still on the way. If Bogdan said that the letter is sent, it must be either in my room, in the postal box, or it's on its way. But what does he mean by unfinished book?

 *

i throw away the cigarette and light another one. It doesn't take me much to get where i need, now that i can get free rides on the move. i do some forced hitch-hikes and quickly arrive in my neighbourhood, a street away from my apartment. The rest i walk on foot. i stop in front of the building, to look at the windows of the apartment, i hope there's nobody in. my dad's work car is not parked here…but that's normal, i just wrecked it.

i go up the stairs, throw down the cigarette and put it out with my foot, and go in. It's quiet. i wait a few seconds in front of the door, for something to happen. Nothing. It's empty. i start looking on the tables, shelves, anywhere that my letter could be. But it isn't anywhere. i get in the room where i used to live. There is a stale air. Dead. As if nobody entered the room. Nobody opened the windows to let the room breathe. Nothing here seems touched, moved, alive. Everything is in its place, where i left them, and nowhere the letter.

i get out of the room and start searching more serious. i check the entire house. i look through all the rooms, the two bedrooms and the kitchen, and the bathroom, if there was any reason to find it there, but i can't find it. i stop after i double checked every corner, every shelve, and closet. i stop and go to the kitchen.

On the kitchen table, i see a lot of new objects, things we didn't have before. Towels, candles, kalachs, colivă, small packs of food, and a black suit. my size… On the stove i see a bunch of pots, some hot, still steaming, with sarmale, a beef soup, and mashed potatoes. On the balcony i see some bottles of juice, emptied and filled with wine. i feel…i get back inside the kitchen and out on the hall. i try to control my breathing, to calm down, but…i'm dead…i'm fucking dead. It's decided. It's out of control. i'm out of options. i'm…i'm dead…i'm…

i let it run. This small crisis, i let it consume itself. After i calm down, and after i let all of it sink in. i try again to bring the same thoughts, but this time, i have to keep my composure. Ok. It's happening. It happened. i just now realize it. Fully understand it. i'm really dead. And there is no turning back. i was ripped away from the world of the living, and they are continuing their lives, they have to. All these objects, my funeral, the simple fact that everybody seems to move forward, to still go at it every day. And without even being asked, what do i want? i don't want all of this. i don't want to be dead. i want to live, that's what i want.

The suit, the coffin, the grave, the ceremony, the priest. And many others. my parents are about to be thrown out, on the streets, and they spend a lot of money for this stupid ceremony. Fuck my funeral, just burn me, but don't bury me at the cost of you becoming homeless. i don't know what to do, i feel so powerless.

i could leave them a message, regarding my book and my agent, but i don't know from whom to say it comes, this message. Or how could i make them get in contact with my agent. And this letter that i'm supposed to answer, is absolutely nowhere. i get out of the apartment and go down the stairs, slowly, lighting a cigarette and thinking, but don't know on what to keep focus, too many thoughts dance around in this fast-paced hora i'm part of. Downstairs i check the postal box, but it's empty. i get out.

i start walking, towards the centre of the city, again.

i don't know what to do…

Before, i had lots of things to do, and no time. Now, i have all the time in the world, and no things to do. i don't feel pushed, or motivated, or can't even find a reason to do anything. If…i can't share it, why should i do it? That's all our existence, resumed to the actions we do, motivated by our pride to show, and share it with everybody. If there will be no one to know, or see, or hear, about what you did, why should you do it in the first place? Just for yourself? Just for myself…?

i'm close to Victoriei Square, i look at the streets that i could go on, one of which goes to the Arch. i've never visited the Arch of Triumph, i only saw it from outside. i want to visit it.

i go through the heavy traffic, and don't stop until i'm under it. i pass through the stone at the base of the monument and see stairs. It's big, a very big space inside. Compared to how it looks from outside, it's like the walls are so much thinner than they seem. It's empty inside. Nobody. i go up the spiral stairs that seem to go higher than the Arch is, and look at the paintings and emblems that are exposed on the walls.

i always saw it from the distance, but never could i imagine it's so spacious inside. Especially the last floor, where there's a room much bigger, with all kinds of old exhibits, flags, swords, crests, coins… And even higher, there's another set of stairs that leads to the terrace. Here, outside, i feel like i'm on the walls or on the towers of some medieval castle. With a battlement for archers, and embrasures for observation and firing arrows.

i continue to walk the streets of Bucharest. i'd like to eat something, i'm not hungry, but it's almost lunch time and i see people around eating sandwiches, corns, or other cheap pastry foods. i imagine the taste of those foods and feel an itch in my stomach, a terrible hunger, but not physical, i don't have the primal physiological need, of survival. i don't need anymore, it's just a whim. But, as i haven't eaten since yesterday morning, now i have this feeling of emptiness that i need to fill with food.

my grandma used to have a saying, that she always told me whenever i didn't want to eat. Some…thing about someone who doesn't eat… i don't remember, but it wasn't good…

i stop in front of a bakery window, i'd like to fill that emptiness, to get rid of this feeling of dead. i stop, put my hand through the window, and grab a pretzel without being seen by anybody, i leave. After a few steps, i throw the cigarette and take a bite from the pretzel. It's stale, but i force myself to finish it.

After a few more bites, i notice i can't even get past its half. i throw it away, there's no reason to force myself. It has no taste or effect on hunger. i'm not hungry, and that's why it doesn't fix my problem. It's just the sensation that makes me uncomfortable, i have to think about something else, maybe i'll forget, maybe i'll get used to it.

Parent's weren't home, probably they're going around, running after certificates and papers and other arrangements for my funeral. i pull out my phone, it's barely after 12 noon. i have to start my adventure…and i know how. i'm going back to the cemetery, to the tomb and to the dungeons. Where it all started.

i go to the train station and hop in the first train that goes to Brașov, luckily i don't have to wait much. i enter a cabin where i meet a cute girl with glasses, she's reading from a book. i sit near her, not too close to notice me, and start reading with her.

 *

Time goes fast, and i quickly arrive in Brașov. i get down at the station and retrace my steps back to the cemetery. It's a little tricky to go back on the same road, even if i drove to the train station and back from it, when i was with George. But i manage to find it, and get past the gate where i see the man that tried to sell me the tomb, he was talking with the guard. i head straight to the tomb.

i pass the propped door and go into the stone. There's nothing. i get out on the other side of the stone and look around. What happened? Where are the spiral stairs? Where is the dungeon? i start walking around the stone, everything looks exactly the same. The wall graves, the tree, even the marble plaque with the list of all the dead people from the cult.

i put my head trough the stone again, and even put the compass near my head, to be able to see if i'm already in but is too dark, but…i just see what the stone sees, nothing more, no stairs or anything under, but dirt.

i know that the last time i opened the stone through death, but i'm already dead. It was just a sacrifice? What sacrifice can i offer now? i pull the dagger out of my pocket and try to stab my hand. It goes right through, no blood, no wound after. Not even using the dagger's blade, i can't cut myself, if i solidify my hand, it just feels like rubbing a ruler. i can't hurt myself anymore, or kill myself more than i already am.

i put the dagger back in my pocket and look at the compass. It doesn't move, it doesn't guide me anywhere. The needle is stuck at the same position. i put the compass back in my pocket.

i kept thinking about this with horror, but i have no more alternatives. i kneel down and put my hands through the ground, then i solidify them. i hope it's like swimming. i pull myself down through the ground and desolidify. Easy. i let my body be, soft and light. i glide. Down, i see nothing, nothing seems to be there, and up, when i look, i see almost the entire Brașov, from the earth's, or asphalt's perspective.

i stop my fall and i start swimming back towards the surface. i get at the tomb's floor and get out of the earth. It's not here anymore, i don't think it ever was here. i descended the stairs, under the stone, but when i passed the door open by the tree, only my soul passed. Into another location? Maybe. Not in Brașov, maybe not even in Romania. And if i managed to get through, just by doing the sacrifice, that would assure the fact i'm dead. This means i can enter now too, even being already dead, but i have to find the real entrance, the location where i was teleported to, after the sacrifice.

i can't open it from here anymore, only if i sacrifice someone's life. i don't want to do this, even if that person wouldn't really die, i'd still expose it to a lot of horrible things, secrets…all this stuff that already fucked up my life. And i also kind off want this just for myself. i need to find the entrance to the stairs, the entrance where i was teleported by the tree's hollow. It could be hidden anywhere on this planet. i need to do some research. Maybe some information about this exists on internet. Everything exists on internet these days.

i get out of the tomb. i came all the way here for nothing. i haven't achieved anything. i head to the train station and wait for the train to Bucharest. These cigarettes have no effect anymore, i feel that i'm smoking them for nothing, at least, before they had the psychological effect on me, but i forget about them, and get to smoke some even for full hours. i throw away the cigarette i was smoking and light up another one. i look down at the thrown cigarette, it's not consumed past its half, not even one, ever burnt beyond the middle of it.

i feel this has to do with the journal, or maybe that's just how everything i touch, works… Nothing that i touched or had, consumed until now. Train comes in the station, i don't want to stay in the cabin to wait for the trip to end. It feels lonely, especially when there's someone else in there…

i put my hands through the lateral of the train car, and climb it like i'd climb a ladder. All my way to Bucharest, i spent it on top of the train, or holding myself on the lateral of the train. i've even been in the locomotive. i was acting like a little kid, with godlike powers. But my powers still take me by surprise, like when i stood with my back to the direction the train went, and hearing traffic noises, i turned around just as i went through a bridge… That was terrifying.

But the trip was so much fun and short on the way back. i got to Bucharest in no time. i didn't even had to wait for the train to enter the station, i just jumped off the train at Basarab Bridge, and continued from there to walk.

Once i got back in Bucharest, the day seemed yet far from being done. The phone says it's 6 in the evening. The sun still shines bright up in the sky, and i feel a little exhausted, mentally. Didn't got to sleep much last night, i don't even think i can sleep, i did dreamt though, but i don't know… i don't have any other physiological need. But this weariness, what once was tiredness, seems to accentuate with the passing of time.

i start to think less clear, to feel the natural effects of sleeplessness. i don't know if i'm inducing this to myself, but i think it happens because physically i can't be sleepy and tired. i should be in a perfect psychological state though, as i can't be affected by anything physically. Not even by the passage of time. But i can't put order in my thoughts, i can't even hear my thoughts, all of them, i just manage to zone out the other ones because sometimes, a thought just becomes too loud and yells at me.

i think i really need some sleep. To clear my mind and stop thinking so chaotically. i go back to the morgue, at least there it's always quiet, no matter the hour. Maybe i get somehow to sleep. i light another cigarette and head to the hospital.

At the hospital, i don't wait to feel my body and let it guide me, i just head straight down to the morgue, i know exactly its location, so i just go there and then slip down a floor. Down in the morgue, i don't turn on the lights, i just pull out the compass and take a look around, checking the corners, and making a mental map of the room.

i want to go check up the body, to see what state it's in, but after what happened last night…i quickly go to the switch and turn the lights on. i look everywhere in the room, every corner, every edge, it's empty, and the stretchers too. Both are covered with the white sheet, but nothing under it now. i don't see the body anywhere.

i open and check each fridge cell, and pull the shelf to double check the face with the tag. But it's nowhere. my body is gone. They took it already? Where did they put it? i take another look around the room, they took it back home, or to the church. my funeral is coming, i'm about to be lowered into the ground. i can't sleep now, alone in the darkness, among these strangers.

i get out of the hospital and head towards the house, i hope it's there. my steps get heavier and heavier, my thoughts make even more noise, and multiply by the second. i feel like my brain could inflate like a balloon, and then pop from all these thoughts that fill my head. But that would be so good, to have all my thoughts burst out of my mind… i really think i'm about to fall down, right here, not even know why, is not because i'm sleepy or tired, i feel like falling, just like that. Dying, once again, i'm good at that, that's for sure.

i feel lost…