I woke up in Australia and went to the supermarket. There were so many things to see but the people were messy with their dressing, the medieval rags they were wearing didn’t match the baseball caps, at all… I stopped at one of the stands, the biggest among the about 200 in the market, and looked at some bags. The lady said they’re hand-made. Their prices were ridiculous!! 1 euro, 2 euros… couldn’t believe my luck! I bought about three, and 2 pretty scarves along with them. I went along looking for more deals and I hit a mirror. The scarves looked funny on me. Someone from the other stands took a long look and said I wasn’t a woman. I looked in the mirror and saw that I wasn’t. I looked like the handsome vampire from a movie I saw last week. But I kept the bags, I liked them.
After I paid at the cash desk I left. I found myself in a large square and felt lost, so I asked a tall man, who was talking to his wife, where I should go. He started babbling half English half German and his left eye popped a bit when he mentioned directions. Sure enough he started pointing fingers towards a place I eyed out myself the moment I left the supermarket. The lady was smiling and blinking often. She seemed nice, even though she never said a word. After he fixed his funny, tall hat, he waved and floated off on a rug along with the woman.
The square was full of people. They were all going in the same direction. It felt like we were all crossing a very large and populated street. I went with the flow. I dropped one of the bags, but couldn’t get it back since we were all in such a hurry. It doesn’t matter, I still have two and I like both better than the one I lost. The crowd started moving in another direction than the man told me to go. So I swam through like at the Olympics and ended up at the other side all wet. One more bag was lost, actually damaged by the water; it was now the size of my pocket, so I hid it there. I went down the street and the sky turned from an orange warm and sunny to dark. It was raining in an instant. I got to the house where the man told me to go.
It looked like an Austrian mansion. The rain was falling harder and harder and the drops were making fun of me because I was already wet. The trees in front of the mansion were beautiful and blooming, the rain didn’t touch them and the sun let its rays shine on each of them. I decided to go get a room for the night since the sun was yawning behind the clouds. The mansion was very elegant, with beautiful paintings on the wall and old furniture decorating the large din. I went to the desk and rang a little bell. The tall man I asked earlier showed up, his wife right next to him. He gave me a set of keys and pointed to the room.
I went and opened the door. The one bag, my favorite of the three, was still intact. As I flipped the switch, a small yellowish light went on and revealed the room. There was hardly anything in it. The bed was on the floor and even the walls were seemingly made of some thick paper and thin wooden decorations holding it together. It looked like I landed in a Japanese person’s bedroom. I put the scarves in the bag I had left and then went to bed. I lied there a while thinking…
Why? Did the man babble? He didn’t have that bad an accent. Why did the lady smile while blinking? It couldn’t have been that pleasant. Why did the man who picked up my lost bag wave and smile? Why did strawberries grow on the trees in front of the mansion? Why did the rain drops make fun of me? Were they jealous? And why don’t Japanese people have more furniture in their rooms? I couldn’t fall asleep anymore, so I wandered around and ended up in front of a mirror again… I was a woman.
The hottest summer yet, and the temperature won't go down. Their rapid pace to accommodate is staggering… food, weather, people none ever seemed a problem, but they still kept accents of their own world around for everyone to see, for them to feel comfortable and for us to learn about.
This is one place I spent some time now, a place I spent a few summers working in, and a place I am soon to leave... A dusty and stuffy shop, with video cameras installed in a few corners, some of which I am not even sure work, with toys and clothes of great diversity, with dim lights and red lantern-like ornaments hanging from the ceiling. It's a typical Chinese shop, in a non-conformist Europe.
My time is almost over here, and although I wished it, somehow I regret going away; the place really grew on me. At the end of the summer, when school is about to start, I get my long awaited vacation - not too long though. This student is going to rest now, before returning to the chaotic, ever changing academic atmosphere.
“The cottage” as I like to call it, is the kind of place that pays in educative and interesting moments rather than money, or good working conditions for that matter. There were a few of those moments, I like thinking back on them, as I sit in front of a fan and try to cool off. People browse around the shop a little, but leave again soon after.
I had the pleasure of meeting all kinds of people, from funny to dangerous, to different. I liked the foreigners best. None of my colleagues are at least bilingual, so I had at least this going for me. Tourists were always fun, especially when you get to convince them of the “high quality” stuff you’re selling; but when I got to sell, I sold, and when the end sum was said I was the envy of the sales ladies.
The thirty second fame amongst the co-workers was however, not the only thing that convinced me to stay. I started working here as a last resort two years ago and ever since, my boss trusted me with not only a sales position, I was a kind of secretary, translator, computer technician and any odd job she found she couldn’t trust with my colleagues. It felt good to have more responsibility and gratitude for your work, but it was tiring…
My bosses are funny people… they live around here somewhere - in the shop, it seems they change sleeping places quite often... but it never bothered the girls and me. It's typical the way they show up in the morning and get ready for a new day, it’s like a second home. One guy I particularly like watching run around. A young guy, of course, a guy with neck long hair, coal black, and deep dark eyes. He's pretty tall and quite athletic, contrary to the traditional opinion about the Chinese.
He is the newest member among the "bosses" - except for his sister's kid, who only comes to visit in the summer. He joined the European Chinese stores, opened around the country and he is my favorite, and always is at the day’s end.
So after I was ordered around by the prince's sister, and the real boss of the house, for a while, I turned back to the main cooling area of the shop, the fan. This is one thing you do not want to get in a fight for... the summer heat can bring out the beast in one, especially in an overheated and overworked "gal" - so we take turns...ha ha
Lunchtime is near since the smell of chinese abound the shop. I managed to steal a few recipes the time I spent here, and every time a good glimpse of him with it. He is like a toy that is strictly off limits, especially since he married a few months ago. The good think is though, that he started speaking a bit more, he kept a lot to himself before, it was quite the sad image. His English is better by the day, which made conversations a more usual scene.
I can't recall a day that went by so without incident, a broken glance, or toy, an argument with a customer, nothing would break the silence and even so, the day went by far too fast... I was sorry I was leaving. I did get attached to them, annoying as they can sometimes be. But as the afternoon flew by so did a last English lesson with my favorite sales-guy.
The time finally came, and I wanted to say goodbye in a more special way, he was the cute and fun "boss" who never argued or got mad. We played basketball in the shop when the boss was out, for heaven’s sake! But it would have been inappropriate to say what my corny brain and cheesy heart wanted to.
I got my paycheck and a lot of hugs and best wishes both from the big bosses and from my comrade sales-women. Wanted to say goodbye to him too, I would be off to university very soon... this was my final year and then, I was off abroad for masters. So this was maybe the last I saw off him. I waved and said bye...
The stairs were few and the iron framed door was the only block between the cool air in the shop and the suffocating summer heat outside. I thought back and said to myself: “pathetic”. I could have had better jobs and I chose this place. Why? There was a little magic, when they told you old stories from Shanghai and Beijing, and two times more when they decided to celebrate and cook for all of us.
As poor as the pay and the conditions were, some things I learned, no office tycoon could have taught me.
When about to slam the door, I saw him running down the stairs, something in his hand. His English was far from perfect, but he made it clear that the box of hazelnut chocolate - my favorite... how did he guess - was a "thank you" for me being so patient, and for teaching him. It was hardly a noble purpose but he was very welcome. I was a "very good girl" he claimed and that he wishes me all the best.
I was the only girl at the shop without a guy over the summer, it was immediately noticed. Trials of hook-ups went unfruitful and I just kept on going one day after another, like there was time to through away, with no regard for any man my workmates threw at me.
He said then I would find a guy I like, and that I'll be happy, to be sure to invite him to the wedding! – yeah… What I told him I thought of long after I went out the shop doors... I told him, that if I found a guy half as good as he is, I'd be happy. He laughed like it was a corny joke and blushed a little - it kinda was a joke, considering his situation and mine... but he then did something I would have never dreamed of... He grabbed me by my waist, and swept his fingers through my hair. He caressed my right cheek and kissed me deeply.
But of course, I was red hot in the face, smiled, hopefully said goodbye, and left. I was almost delirious. The hot summer breeze felt cool to the touch. I stopped in the nearby park and sat on the bench. A small note was scribbled on the box of chocolate. It said "tank you!" - Cute!
No one saw us, but wish or no wish I felt a bit guilty even if a lot more satisfied… All in all, a summer to remember.
Poems written by a very bored and frustrated student. (Prietenii stiu de ce :)) )
Afara ploua imediat si-n sala moare-o musca Studentii scriu si plang incet de pedeapsa crunta
Ce-am facut noi? Ce-am facut noi oare? Tortura este tot, tortura ce nu-l doare...
Vorbeste doar, vorbeste mult si tare, Vorbeste pana ce pe noi, la toti capul ne doare.
Opreste-l Doamne! Du-l in lume! Caci istoria lumii, intr-o ora ne-o spune...
Mana nu mai scrie, foaia ni se rupe, creionul arde, mintea ni se duce. ____________________
Musca trista, musca emo taie vena, Musca trista musca emo rupe barna, Musca trista musca emo lui L. ii da una. Iar eu tot trista si tot emo la prof i-as rupe duma...
It’s almost over... remember... say goodbye... forgive... be forgiven...
I
Suitcase of memories
Even as a child I didn't know much, but I knew what I wanted... to control my destiny, control my choices not let coincidence control them. I grew up with good parents who, I think, left this earth before their time, but of their own fault. They trusted too much, trusted God, trusted that “it would all be ok”. They taught me how to care, how to be good and how to be the best. I was told I was a good student, patient and hard-working. Friends thought of me a little different, more precisely, the little book worm and geek. I never shook this title, not until I finished high-school. I was the weird kid, who dressed funny, didn't think cheerleaders were useful, or that being a humanitarian was a great career and job.
I was a sophomore in high-school when my parents died in a plane crash. I don't recall being given the news; I however still have flashes of the funeral. It was snowing... they all looked at me amazed that I didn't shed a tear. I was supposedly in shock, but I remember it even now, even today, so clearly. That was a decisive moment for me. I grew up...
I inherited a small fortune, moved into my own house, sold that of my parents for another small fortune, and began a new life from that day on. Senior year was a revelation, I began to travel, invest, and work and think like a business woman. It was all work and no play, but I never knew another kind of life. I never really went to parties, didn't like clubs, or being drunk. But then, I never made the top of the guest lists. I found a justification for living a lie. From geek, I went to spoiled rich chick... My image mattered now, which was actually true. High-school was soon at its end, and I was free. After a small tour of Europe, I went to college
II
A little less conversation
When I started my first year, I was well known around campus, even though I chose a small university in Kansas to do my studies. I was known as a smart pretty, rich girl. None of which was false, but I'd have liked it better if I landed the surprise personally. Information does travel like chickenpox... So, after the tide settled, I managed to even make a few friends. I moved into a cute dorm, to experiment what real student life felt like.
My roommate was also the girl who I called my best friend. She was a sweet quiet person who understood my rare but existent crazy. I appreciated getting to know her, and trusted her with a lot.
Business school was not all that's cracked up to be, not freshman year at least. I had the basics; I had the opportunity of teaching myself. Most of my teachers saw that, all but one of course... the needle in the haystack. He was a young guy, not much older than us, he was, what? 25?yet he had the arrogance and self certainty of a hundred year old... he was a sarcastic and ironic S.O.B that taught theory at the age of 25 or so, which I applied at the age of 19, I couldn't stand him for criticizing my knowledge and methods - especially since I knew they were correct. He had his looks to go for him though.
The good thing about college was that no one checks if you really take a sick day or not. So when I finally had enough of getting my weekly smart remarks I took a brake.
Right in front of the dorm, there was a little park. Lots of trees, flowers, quiet... well nature. So I kind of took the chance and got a blanket, my i-pod and went out for some time alone. I was lying in the grass humming a song, when I realized that someone was watching me. I opened my eyes to see a cute tall dark and handsome, hands in his pockets, hair flying in the wind, Oliver Brown... my “beloved” teacher.
“Don't stop on my account, you should try a career in singing you know that?”
“Out to get some fresh air professor? Is it just me or are you skipping class?”
“Students skip... I took a sick day...You should read your e-mails.”
“Well I hope you get well soon...” I was in no mood for this conversation, and I could tell he was.
“Well, doctor said I need fresh air and relaxation...” he said while he was sitting down next to me. “I hope you don't mind...”
“Not at all...” I pretended.
Soon we were both lying under the noon sun relaxing. I didn't utter a word all that time, not until he…:
“You really don't learn for my seminars do you? Whenever I ask on you, you are in a loss of words.”
“And then you start with your ironic remarks...Do you think that helps? You think that motivates me in any way?"
“I hoped it would...”
“It doesn't…”
“Well next time try reading...” he said getting up.
“I'll do no such thing” he then burst into laughter. I finally met eyes with him. When he finally stopped,
he asked: “Why don't I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Isn't that crossing the line a bit?” I asked innocently.
“Its coffee...” he insisted. I agreed. I had a weird feeling about him, but I also liked him... just a bit.
However I was in uncharted territory, boys weren't a pastime. Actually, I never had a guy... em, boyfriend.
III
Tuesday night's alright
When you live a life of a rich person, and a timid one at that, it's not easy to find friends, much less find love. I gave up that urban myth in high-school somewhere, not after getting burned and embarrassed. I believed in attraction though and utilitarian relationships, not love though.
I went to no other course that day, neither did he... after visiting and getting introduced to most of the clubs and pubs around campus, I was so drunk I could hardly walk. He wasn't too far away either.
I'm not sure what way we went, where he was taking me, he said he was walking me home.
I woke up in front of a door, wobbling helplessly on my seriously unstable legs. He walked me inside. I wanted to say something but I didn't know how anymore.
He was pretty drunk too, he was leaning on the wall and I was leaning onto him, he looked at me deeply and kissed me. I was feeling week already, but that...that cut the branch off from under me. I was far too drunk to even walk, and then I get my first kiss?! He was feeling me up softly... it was almost surreal. He took me towards the bed... and that's where I woke up the next morning.
I was almost naked and clutching onto the thin sheet covering me. My head hurt so bad... I looked next to me, he was still sleeping. I wasn't sure if he was naked to or not, that was so not supposed to happen...ever!!! I felt like such a ... I just wanted to get out.
I finally found my clothes and put them on as fast I could. He was still sleeping and I was already thinking of different scenarios of what was about to come. It could affect my company, my private life... this has to have not happened.
It was all I thought of on my way back to the dorm. I didn't go to any courses that day... I pretended to feel sick, it fooled my roommate. After a couple of hours he started calling. I hung up the first three times. Then he sent me a text: “Meet me, urgent! - Old oak in campus. I'm waiting” this has to end somehow, better to talk it over. I went immediately. He was waiting with his hands in his pockets, facing the tree. I called out: “Oliver...” - we were on a first name basis since yesterday.
He turned to me, he was furious... “What the hell...” he grabbed my arms really tight and I turned white, almost dead looking “Where the hell did you go?!” my heart was beating hysterically “why did you run off?” then his grip loosened somewhat and so did the grip on my heart. “Well, isn’t it obvious?”
“You got me really worried” then I looked at him amazed.
“Do you recall anything from last night? Cause I kinda had a blackout” I confessed. He smiled ironically “Are you kidding me?!”
I turned serious...”Look, this is far beyond inappropriate, we should just forget it ever happened. Sorry, I don't usually do such things on a regular basis. I mean, get drunk and stuff...”
“I could tell...” I turned red in the face and turned away saying “Look I...em, have courses today, like I said, we should forget about it all. So, have a nice day Mr. Brown. See you in class.”
“look...” he said grabbing my arm “I don't know about you but, I enjoyed what happened last night and yesterday all together, even if it's unethical, and wrong and I'd have to stop being ironical with you during classes...I don't want it to stop. I think it would totally suck, not having you around.”
I burst into laughter hearing all that. I turned and faced him again
“You have to be joking! Did you just listen to what you said? “Suck” is something kids use...and then, you hardly know me, stop acting like we're in love! You got me drunk, you said you noticed I don't usually do this, yet you didn't stop me, you enjoyed it, you took me “home” ha? Your home! For sex?! You're a teacher! My teacher, for crying out loud! You took advantage of me! Yet you seem hardly affected! What kind of monster are you?!”
I turned away, but didn't walk. I was a bit confused, I thought I was okay with attraction and stuff...but apparently I'm not. He sighed “last I remember, I did not pour the vodka, you so enthusiastically drank, down your throat , I did ask where you lived and you said “Neverland” I couldn't just knock on every dorm door and ask “do you know where this girl lives?” your cell phone was really drained of battery, I couldn't use it. What was I supposed to do?! And what the sex is concerned ,I dunno what you imagined it'd be like... but it takes two, and you were anything but unhappy, even if you say you don't remember.” now he was pissed off... “This can't go on...” I whispered. “Look, honestly, last night I really thought that you were actually something other than stuck up, I guess it didn't last...” Fact was that I felt good, and I really like the bloke, somewhere deep down, I didn’t want it to stop either, but still, he's...
“So I'm you're teacher, think that'll change? Teachers fuck too...” he demanded in a dead serious tone. I burst into laughter again, but this time I meant it. Then he started laughing too. Did we just ‘sign a contract?’
IV
The house of fun
So I'm a slut, a dirty little student with two ponytails and leather dress…or not; point is I wasn't able to resist, and for the first time I let fate decide what was to become of it all. I saw him almost daily and “nightly”...
The secret was, however, harder to keep than that of a governmental project. Freshman year was hard after all, sophomore, even more so, but the vacations were worth it all. I found it hard to take, running in circles; it was a mad world, for both me and Oli. But then it was also fun.
However sneaking around had its risks. After class one day, Sylvia, the best friend I talked about, saw us stealing a kiss around campus. She saw and recognized Oli, but not me. With a photo she immediately went to the dean. The next day Oli was fired. Of course I found out only a week later, because he supposedly went to visit a cousin in a nearby town. It was a huge deal around campus but I never realized, or didn't want to, that it was us the people were talking about. I couldn't come forward or I would have been expelled. But I couldn't keep it all inside me anymore, so I told Sylvia. I had never done anything out of place before, and thought it was best that way. Chance was that I also made mistakes. Sylvia wouldn't hear of it. She was so angry. I made her swear to secrecy, but she betrayed me still.
In a couple of days most of the newspapers were full of stories on how the spoiled rich chick slept with her professor, probably to get ahead. Oli was blamed for more than that. He supposedly had relationships with other students too. He confessed only to this one, which was also the only “crime” he committed. But no matter, his career was over anyway. I felt hurt, betrayed, guilty... Oli hardly talked to me anymore and drank a lot. One evening I sat next to him and grabbed his bottle. We both got very drunk and he finally fell asleep in my arms. I guess everybody has to hurt sometimes, it's a part of being human. Everybody hurts...
V
Stars in the sky
Sylvia had rich parents and a dummy all-muscle-no-brain boyfriend; she kept around for his money and fame. Every waking hour I spent looking for things normal people have, like a friend. I thought I found it in her. It wasn't so. I don't take defeat too well, blackmail even worse. Oli never knew what someone is capable of when they have the resources and a reason. He didn't know what I'm capable of. Sylvia didn't care.. I pleaded with her days on end, but she chose to make a scandal of it all.
I blame only myself for leaving everything uncontrolled, but blackmail... betrayal... that cannot go unpunished, and it didn't. Sylvia had an unfortunate accident. I never checked if she was alive or not or what her condition was. Both Oliver and I went away to Europe in that period. He got hired and I got transferred. Paris did us both a little good.
By the time I was 21, I ran my late parents' business and formed quite a few subsidiaries. Life was going exactly the way I steered it. Oli was happy as a professor, and I was happy with him.
Paris is quite the city, yet it seemed like our little world and our home a little spec of land in that make believe existence. But it wasn't make believe at all, it was real. I had lost all my beliefs again, lost my religion, and lived on the insecure threads of fate. And as much as I wanted to believe it was wrong I was far too happy, far too absorbed to notice...
VI
Sylvia
Keep your friends close... In my case I never needed the enemy part, ‘cause this friend, was more than enough of both.
One evening, while attending a fund raiser a woman came up to me. It took me a bit to realize it was her. She seemed fine, but had quite a few injuries, and a false leg. I never had second thoughts about what I did to her. This never made the press, I made sure. She ruined our lives then, pay back's a bitch...
She seemed civil at first, but since looks deceive... She came up to me before the evening ended and swore “I never forgot, nor forgave...”
“Neither did I “I answered. The game was on... and this wouldn't end well...
The next days were accompanied by threats on the phone, sharp shooters around my property. This was going way too far! She wasn't joking, two of my bodyguards were killed in the process and the police seemed to not give a rat’s ass... As much as I disliked running away from a challenge, we went back to the US for a couple of weeks. Oli was the most worried, the newspapers and TV were showing nothing of it, even though we announced it at the police stations and paid off a couple of papers to print the story.
Sylvia was a reputable enemy, she had planed this for a while, and it was working like a perfect mouse trap since I triggered it at the event that evening. I was responsible for it all. My life and Oliver's were now in the balance. We both knew there was no other chance than fighting back.
A few days of quite followed. A package came through the mail. There was a letter saying “24 hours”.
This was it, her last piece of the puzzle, her last shot. She led us around for 3 months, making our lives a living hell. It all comes down to 24 hours ... her resources must be fading. Money is like oil, replaceable but only in a lot of time...
Our story was unknown to the world... we might die and she could cover up her tracks, will never allow that. It's time again... fate is my enemy once more, I win, or it's over tonight! I will not permit the little happiness I found in my life to be taken away by a person whose reputation and image is facade for a criminal mind and hand.
Oli was holding me in his arms for the last 3 hours. 21hours and they might be laying flowers on my life, on our lives...But what was I to do against a person who only cared about money and power, who faked friendship, who destroyed lives only for the sake of her publicity. She is scrupulous. It may be my own fear, but I think also fearless... ready to kill at a whim.
Tic-tac, tic-tac, tic-tac...
18 hours...
10 hours...
Just 8 hours....
One more hour.... Oliver kissed me like he never did before... we agreed we'll see each other soon and embraced, locked ourselves in each others arms. No bombs, no sharp shooters, no people around who can harm us, no entrance on the premises... half an hour.... what will she do? Fate...again...I need... a miracle...
VII
2 months later
“...I'm a murderer... I killed my best friend, my once best friend... because of something I started, because of my mistrust. I ruined the life of two people in love, drove them away. This is my last will and testament; give this recording to the police. The leads I've presented here will lead you to their grave. Lay a flower in my name; I wasn't able to bring myself to do it...” (Gunshot in the background)
“Mrs. Brown, this was found at the residence of...”
“Sylvia”
“Yes...”
“Have you got and identified her body?”
“Yes. She shot herself”
“Thank you for the call officer, and for your cooperation during this time.”
“I'm sorry it had to end this way...”
“Have a nice day.”
“You too ma’am.”
Fate exists... that much I've realized. Oliver is complaining about the coffee as he did the past 2 months of our seclusion, but I can tell it's just another way of expressing his happiness and joy of still being alive. The yacht is comfortable but still it isn’t easy wondering if you’re still being hunted down or whether you'll live to see the next day. One officer believed our story and hid us away in the nick of time. There really was a bomb. Some bodies, fakes, were placed at the scene. Our Paris house was blown to smithereens and we were declared dead for our own safety, for a while at least.
In light of the past events, I gave away all my money to charity. My name was cleared a long time ago, as was Oliver’s and we are actually seen as one of the nicest and generous families in the mundane world but it doesn’t change the fact that we play with our rights, we cross lines and then we trust that it’ll all work out. Our façade was and is a pretty lie... but it’s necessary to keep us alive.
Fate exists, but it can be held in check... it must be... And I'll keep doing so for the rest of my days.
(NEVER LET A KID READ THIS!!! it's the sickest thing I ever laid on paper!)
Suicide? Social, political, financial, artistic... can't think of more, so don't be a critic. I wish my end, I wanna go. God! Seal the deal; I'm not waiting for the next meal. Window seems tempting... but I fear heights! Knives? They freak me out, can't stand the sight. Drowning...no, I still want air. Then pills? Too expensive, I don't even dare.
All you good people help me out, NOW! Please kill me...I'm gonna have a cow!
I'm sick, can't anyone see? I wanna go, finito, dead... Leave not! Please, bear with me. God's a fool, he let me live, in this enormity, when I'm just a chif! Just a straight fool, have no intention, Yet he gave me riches beyond all discretion.
My childhood was great, I was a happy child, mother and father, both loved me like wild.
Later in school, I was a prince, not once did I see detention, not even a glimpse...
In high school, I was famous and hansom, girls would swarm, oh, they'd pay a ransom.
College was a handful, but I made it through, I just played football, isn't something new.
My child you're yawning, do I bore you? The time you lost here I now somehow owe you? But they sent you, to listen, they pay you to listen! To a mad man's babble as his eyes still glisten.
You come to listen, and then decide, whether it's worth living or if I should die.
Surprised child? Why is that? Just because I'm mad, I don't get a fact?
The fact is I killed. Oh yes i did... but not by myself, with that monster, in my head.
You see dear child, I'm an old man, the monster however, has still, more than one plan.
I just wanna go, I wanna be dead, or that monster, you see, he'll want to be fed.
He ate those neighbors too, you see.
The wife was a delish, I couldn't stop him, I only wish...
What I wish dear, but I told you, I want to die, hit the ground, not mortify.
No more darling, you pretty little thing... cheeks so red and that sweet little grin.
How young you are dear, too young to talk, talk to a mad man, too young...and no luck.
Where are you going dear, you still have to write, you still have to listen, promise... I won't bite!
You wanna know why? You didn't write that... You wanna know why?
I killed to have more! I stole, I lived, and then I stole out of bore. She found out, the wife, you see! She told me like you did: Mad man you be!
The rest, you know, its history, now I crave to steal some more, but only to kill me. No, I'm wrong, I'm wrong my dear, kill what? Yes, the monster in me!
So as you leave and I go to my cell, I think, it'll all be well. I'll feed my pet monster, just as it asks, all the bitter bon-bons I hid in a rack.
It's hidden, you see, it's hidden well, only I know and the monster from hell. I still see you leave through the iron bars, my dear you were rude, not even as you left did you salute.
No matter! My monster, your hunger is big, and goodies I now bid... So we'll eat 'till the end, rejoice with this feast, so eat as we die, my monster, Bonn Appetite!
History always bored me to death, yet I find myself in the same god-forsaken class, teaching antiques. I got the main message of this subject after the first year of study: don’t make the mistakes of the past! The rest was history…well you get me.
Sitting in the last row, I practice the easiest way of falling asleep with my face in my palm and playing with a pencil. Meanwhile I enjoy my favorite bedtime story…whatever the teacher has to babble today. Soon I find myself in the position of barely keeping my eyes open. Some faint words still make it through to me, something about killing, lots of casualties; I imagine a war, houses reduced to ruins. Well there were quite a lot of wars… so when was this one? In the end I give up asking and start sleeping.
Still, as much as I would have liked to just sleep, I can’t… a colleague pats me on the back. ‘What?’ I ask frustrated. ‘Some water…’ a quivered voice calls out. I lift up my head and open my eyes, in front of me, a rag muffin, all black and blue in the face, reaching for the bottle in my hand. I still look at him amazed and cannot react. He slowly takes the bottle from my hand and gives out a painful smile trough his wounds. I start to look around me; I see people around me, lying on the floor, some moving about in the little space there is, others sit and talk, some children cry for food or their parents. The worst was when I saw the corner, in which some people were lying with their faces covered. What happened…where am I?
I look at my hands; they’re full of bruises, somewhat shaky. I ask the man what day it is. He said he wasn’t sure…but it was surely November 1939. This wasn’t right. I couldn’t really get a grip of what was going on, but it couldn’t be much… I can already see the professor trying to wake me, he’ll most surely kick me out and I’ll go and have a coffee in town.
The man asks me for my name. ‘Alex’ I tell him. A young girl then slightly punches me in the shoulder and says: ‘But that’s not a Jewish name…so they brought you along because of your looks...?’ It was all surreal but… I’ll wake up in an instant, this is not real…
‘I don’t really now…’ I finally broke trough the silence.
‘Well, they took my family to a different camp, my little brother…he is probably dead by now…’ As she said all this, a tear forced itself to the light, and cleaned a little of the dust on her face.
‘What’s your name?’ I asked…
‘Eva’ she replayed quickly.
‘It’s a beautiful name…’ I tried to somehow change the subject. She looked back at me with a different, angry, almost vengeful look in her eyes:
‘They might ask you for your name, but never think they care about any of us, they can kill you, they can kill all of us, and they just might’ there was a sudden silence in the wagon. Everyone had their eyes fixed on the conversation. The old man got up and went to Eva, he convinced her to calm down, she would scare the children even more than they were. A few hours of silence followed. I just sat there and tried to figure out this whole predicament.
After some time the man broke the silence: ‘You know, you really shouldn’t be angry with her she didn’t mean to shout. It’s that… she was famous; she used to write songs and poems. She was famous with them too, the… Nazis I mean, yet now they do what they do to her and her family too. She doesn't deserve this treatment; no one here deserves what's happening...’
It was pretty much clear what all this was from the very beginning, I just didn’t want to swallow it all. ‘Where are we? Or…where are we going?’
The man gave me a bit of a smirk. ‘On the train…The rest, when you know, be sure to tell me too. They told us nothing when they took us away. You were lucky though, you slept trough the first two days. You must have really got a bump on your head, you still have the mark…’ he pointed it out.
All this time I was pinching myself, maybe I would wake up…but no chance, nothing happened. The place was cramped, you had no chance to stretch, no where to go. There was no such luxury as a bathroom or anything even vaguely close to it, no food, and hardly any water.
I couldn’t help but staring at Eva; for a while she fell asleep. She had long coal black hair, but beautiful blue eyes; she was lean, tall, pretty faced and smart. One couldn’t ask anything close from a star in my days…or dreams…or whatever it would end up being.
After a while she woke, a few kids asked her to sing something, I also insisted along with the little ones; so that after a bit of fuss she agreed. The next few hours felt somewhat more bearable, even happy, especially for the children. It was no time until they started to fall asleep, though, and so did the rest of the people around. I could see nothing through the few cracks in the wagon. I would guess its night. It was painful watching them fall to a dream, a world they wished for but couldn’t have. It was so because they truly deserved it, and because I couldn’t. I was a bit jealous.
I sat there with my head tilted to the wooden boards that made up the wagon walls. I kept gazing and wondering about the most divers of things, tried to also fall asleep but no luck; so as I sat there day- dreaming, I hear a definite ‘Pssst!’ It was Eva. She was sitting, knees to her chest, all coiled up, trying to keep warm.
I somehow managed to lift my body and step through the many people lying on the floor. I felt like a broken machine, every nook and cranny of my body cracked and twisted in the most painful way. I finally sit next to her. She coils up next to me and puts her head on my shoulder. ‘You couldn’t sleep either?’ she asks.’ You were just staring at…something.’
‘I was thinking’ I responded
‘Oh, please share those thoughts, I might be sitting next to a famous philosopher and not even know it.’
‘Well, your guess is as good as mine, I still have no idea of how I got here, or what I did before all this’
‘It must be dreadful… was that what you were thinking of so intensely? Well, all I can tell you is that, they put you on the train in Lublin, like most of the people here, but you were pretty much unconscious then too.’
‘Tell me…what do I look like?’
‘Well, narcissistic are we? Wait, you have a little smudge on your face…’
‘I see you like to make fun.’
‘No, no, your face is pretty much clean, except for that one smudge; you also have dark hair, black eyes, a nose in the middle of your face…it’s not too big, but not too small either…’ she carried on describing me, in a low voice of course, not to wake the others, and with her soft hands she examined every inch of my face. I couldn’t help but enjoying her funny, lightly sarcastic style.
As our discussions went on, I had the chance, to see who she really is and she was, surely, anything but a person deserving this kind of faith, nor did all the other people around here- the old man was right... The night passed with a few laughs and also with a few somewhat more serious talks. I was sure of one thing, that the Nazis would either kill them, us, the moment we arrive at a camp, or work and starve everyone to death.
Eva fell asleep somewhere before morning. She still lied on my shoulder. I kissed her forehead and let her sleep on. I watched the sun go up through the wooden planks. I still didn’t manage to put lid on lid, even after a whole night. I even started to miss the dreaded history class…
Still lost in thoughts, it was only later I noticed the train was slowing down.
I quickly woke Eva, but before she could even open her eyes properly, a man in uniform slammed the door open. ‘Everyone out!’ he shouted in a high, ordering German. Everyone woke to the dreadful reality. Some, fortuned, voices would say, lied there still with an ice cold color in their faces.
The rest, who were still alive, stood scared in front of the wagon. Two soldiers were talking: ‘We need to pick up another badge, the women and children we don’t need, dispose of them in the forest...’ Hearing his words, I held Eva even closer, wrapped in my arms. One of the soldiers pulled her away… ‘No!’ I shouted. The next thing I knew was that something hard hit me on the head. I felt I was loosing balance, and I heard Eva screaming… I felt the blood flowing on my forehead and face. I still saw the ground, heard a few more words of the people around, but couldn’t make any out. All I saw were flashes and then, darkness.
A hand was shaking my shoulder. I felt the bottle of water I my hands. I lifted the bottle, thinking it was the old man again.
‘No thanks! I have my own.’ He responded furiously. I could also hear people laughing. I opened my eyes. There was an old man alright, but the one teaching history this time…
‘I’m sorry sir, I thought you ran out.’ I said. I didn’t really mean it as an insult, if he only knew.
‘Last time I asked you what it would take to keep you awake in my class, you said a movie…YOU SNORED THROUGH ALL OF THIS TOO!!!! Where did I go wrong…?’
‘Well, sir, I did say a good movie, you managed that… but you forgot the popcorn!’ everyone was laughing…I couldn’t help it, sorry teach!
‘That does it! OUT! NOW!’ he was furious; me… I was happy.
‘Wait a sec!’ someone called. I turn to see... ‘Eva’ I shake my head as if I said something I didn’t mean to.
‘You’ll need this’ she said handing me a handkerchief. ‘You have a little smudge on your face’
‘Thanks’ I still didn’t know if that was possible or if I was still dreaming. Just to make sure: ‘What’s your name again…?’
‘Well, I don’t recall mentioning it, but you already know it…’ I couldn’t help but laughing slightly.
‘I thought I said, OUT!’ the grouchy voice called out again.
‘See you later then’ she spoke in a low voice.
‘Surely…’ I replayed.
After all this nonsense, I really needed a drink; I'll settle for a coffee. There was also desperate need for some good company, so I took my history book along...
(This one is somewhat hotter... read only if you want to :P)
The day ends slowly as the red sky turns to black. Her breath fogs up the dirty glass of the window. The room is hot and the walls seem claustrophobic all of a sudden. With a quick pace she goes from the window to the desk. She gazes at the monitor and sees no messages,there's still far too much time until they meet, and her face’s reflection reads less and less patience.
She takes out all her clothes from the closet, looks through them, and angrily decides to put them all back. She stud in the middle of the room, hands in her hips, and eyes in the ground, she stumped her right foot and with the same haste and quick pace she heads to the basement. Just a bit out of breath she finds herself in front of two tall metallic doors. She slams them open in seconds, lights go on, their brightness was reflected in the mirror filled walls.
The music starts to play… A Spanish guitar stands out and fills the air with a dazzling soft sound. She looks up in the mirror to see her own wild green eyes, she then heads to the middle of the room. With every step her clothes fall to the ground, until no more than a pare of tight, red boxers and a baby-blue transparent T-shirt cover her perfect white skin. Her long light-brown hair flows down her shoulders ‘till the middle of her back. Elegant, ballerina- like moves contour every part of her lean, tall, almost royal features.
As the music’s rhythm changes, so do hers. Moving slowly her hands on her body, stroking her side up and down, her feet take chosen steps, contouring every muscle; she is more than conscious of the skin showing and of every touch and take. As the music gets slower and erotic, so does she; moving starts to become instinct, rather than control. Her eyes close. One hand goes down from her breasts towards her stomach and the other on her waste; her white face turns from snow-white to a picturesc blush. A few drops of sweat go down her neck while her silky, long hair caresses her shoulder and back.
The atmosphere was more and more dense. From this music filled, heat emitting scenery, a hand reaches out and lightly strokes her half naked back. As she opens her eyes again, she only sees a silhouette behind her. The lights are so dim now that a few twinkles of shine make the difference between this and the pitch black room to witch she slammed the doors open to. The mysterious shadow comes closer and closer until she recognizes the face in the mirror.
Still behind her, he takes her waste and slowly feels her damp and overheated body, whispering: ‘Don’t dare stop…’
His body moves along hers; his hands in hers, feeling each others fingers, each others presence. Tightly wrapped in his arms, moving to the slow rhythms of the music, she could feel every part of him. His hot breath on her neck distracted her enough to let him peal off her shirt. She stud in front of the mirror, seeing her perfect skin covered now by nothing but the dark hands of the man behind her. His embraces get even tighter as he starts to touch her ice cold looking, yet sinfully hot breasts. She leans her head back and breaths harder and harder as if he’d take away air.
Swept away by her lovers lead, the two find themselves lying on the wooden floor. Just like his silhouette in the mirror, he is still domineering. Her slim and elegant arms in his tight grip, he avalanches kisses as he places himself on top of her. He kisses her breasts, her neck, and lips; she starts to breath heavily, pleasureful, like it were the last gasp she'd take. He slips into her. Their movements coordinate perfectly as the music still accompanies in the background. Their arms are still wrapped around each other, her eyes close again as she gives out a slow moan and bites her lips.
Somewhere, slightly, she hears the phone ringing. As she opens her eyes again, she finds herself in the room, near the window, facing the mirror on the wall. It was already night. Her long hair was down; her wide green eyes were looking at the seemingly confused and blushed person that was her reflection. She was still biting her lips. She smiled and went to the desk - the phone was still ringing. She answered.
‘Hi baby, I’ll pick you up in a few; is that OK?’ a deep voice asked…
‘Sure! I’ll be waiting’ she answered, with a slight smile on her lips.
She went to the mirror once more. She was still red in the face- it suited her well- she gave an even more sensual smile, turned around, looked carefully if everything was in order and left.
One thing she forgot though… she turned back flipped the switch to turn off the lights and slammed the door behind her. In an elegant fashion, she then waltzed down the hallway, with the same smile on her face…
Soon a new day will start. The alarm is about to go off in a few minutes. Not even today do I understand their purpose, I always manage to wake up a few moments earlier just to stop it before it rings. Today however, I don’t feel like lifting my arm to accomplish this feat. Yesterday, I felt I should do something a bit out of my daily routine, so I went jogging in the park… big mistake!
I am so tired I hardly remember what day it is… actually I don’t. My decision is final, while slowly turning on my other side; I banish any such insignificant thoughts.
In the background somewhere I hear a sound; probably my cat, a lot less sleepy.
But, ah… how sweet it is to just lie in bed and enjoy a few extra moments of twilight. It’s perhaps not this sweet all night, maybe since now I am conscious of it all, or is it just laziness?
Colored circles, triangles and stars, I couldn’t adore geometry more – in my dreams. I still hear some funny noises around, very vague, but they persist. Damn cat! Sleeps all day, did it have to take a brake just now? Outside it starts to thunder, and then follows the rain. Now this weather will surely keep me sleeping all day long, not that it were different in any other kind of weather.
BAMMM!!! Out of nowhere…a terrible noise. Who am I kidding? It’s my adorably annoying neighbor, starting of the engine of his old relic. I guess he’s off to work. Oh, and there goes his arch enemy, my other favorite frustrated neighbor, screaming and shouting like every god-given morning that she’d buy him a new car if he’d demolish this one… sweet immunity. All this time I had the chance of getting more than used to all these small ‘gestures’ so that I don’t even move an eyelid when they occur.
At home, they were all a usual thing, although it’s anything but normal, one would say, to bear with loud-mouthed neighbors and romantic music in the middle of the night, followed buy even louder screams… oh, but you can imagine of what kind.
So the car finally takes off, slowly proceeding on the rained on streets in a remarkably familiar rhythm…maybe cha-cha? Soon nothing can be heard in the street except for the even stronger falling rain. My little cat still can’t find it’s place, so it seems… but it all seems so quiet, so peaceful, and in just a few second the alarm will go off; one sound, so usual, but still so damn mind-scratching! But in today’s plan I will give this neuron killer no chance what so ever. Today I am in no disposition, nor do I have the strength to lift but one figure. My best case scenario for today is to end it as it began… with me in bed, sleeping.
Although it’s not in my ‘nature’, today I will allow myself to miss classes too. The university is far too far today, and not even the subway makes a difference. Today, whatever it may be, I will not react. But wait, today is Saturday. Courses weren’t in the plan. So then what was? Sleeeeeeeep? No, no, no! something’s not really in it’s place, I just can’t put my finger on it. I seem to forget something…it’s not of little importance, and I don’t know what. I never kept an agenda of my appointments and schedule; I was always too incompetent for that, and this is the reward.
I somehow manage to remove my sleep-wrinkled face from the pillow and I look around the small apartment room. I see my desk, and my night stand full of pictures of my friends back in Romania and friends from here. Among them I spot a picture, hidden but for me in the center of attention. A sweet kid-like face, big dreamy but mature eyes, dark hair; it all brings a smile to my face. On the wall, over the desk, two diplomas are hanging and an empty frame awaits the one that will soon come. I did feel a bit claustrophobic in this room, but somehow also welcome; in a short time, without even realizing it, I made it a home.
As I sit on the side of the bed, my little cat looks up to me. Next thing I know, she is bundled up next to me purring. A particular song comes to my mind, one played by Clayderman. With the effect of a lullaby, the song takes me back to sleep.
The door squeaks… my eyes race open. This is not right! I feel my heart pounding in my throat… I sprang out of bed; my heavy feet seemed they had wings all of a sudden. I run to see what caused the noise; it was the bathroom door. This officially ruined it…I was wide awake. It was too good to be true. I go back and threw myself on the bed in anger. As I am about to close my eyes, I smell something… a smell so fresh and sweet. I turn my head, and there it was. In all it’s beauty… I blush easier than ever. An iris flower, with a small birthday card: “happy birthday!”
I just couldn’t believe it! He did it! He always promised me a different kind of surprise. He told me I was mostly unaware of the things going on….he was right! I will never try to disprove him again. The door to the building closes with a bang. I jump to the window. A large umbrella…it was still raining. I grab my phone and call. He hangs up. Then the man with the umbrella turns…”five minutes” he shows me, holding up his hand,still dreamy, mature and kid-like. I couldn’t help but smiling.
For this kind of events I never needed an agenda…I always had friends. The next five minutes were a blur. I just knew I was next to him walking along under the umbrella. I also felt a bit of a conspiracy with nature…the rain soon stopped and the golden rays of the sun made it up for every single drop of rain…
