Something (part five)

Something

By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi

Part five

The ride to the lake is quiet. My dad keeps taping his fingers into the steering wheel, not knowing that it is one of the things about him that annoys me the must. 

Tak, tak, tak… taktaktak… tak, tak, tak… taktaktak.

I concentrate on the forest and how the trees seem to blend with the speed of the moving vehicle. I take deep breaths. When we finally arrive at our destination my dad kills the engine and turns to look at me.  

He makes the obligated question, again: “So, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes” I answer reassuringly and quickly open the door of the car and start walking. The sound of my feet crushing the dry leaves gives me some sort of comfort, although I cant precisely know why.

I can smell it first and then I see it, there it is, the lake. That big and freighting hole in the ground filled with dark green and brown water, and also where my worst nightmare had taken place. It is, as usual, deserted.

I take small, but confident, steps toward the edge, where the water meets the mud and makes the tiniest of waves. In, and out. I stare into the whole panorama. Here I am. This is supposed to be my “moment”, where all the answers come. But nothing is happening, silence.

The only thing “exciting” (before last night) that happened in my life was his death. And that is not exciting, it is tragic and unfair. So yes, I cling to the hope of something great happening to me, even if it comes with misfortune, but not just death, and the horrible dark cloud and feeling that holds you prisoner when it comes.

The breeze is strong, suddenly it starts getting stronger and stronger and I notice that something is wrong; at the very center of the lake a bright yellow light is coming slowly out of the water. I start panicking and I try to turn around to run trough the forest and to the car and my dad; but just like the night before I cannot move my body. The light grows brighter, I cannot take my eyes from it, its like watching two cars heading into a crash, you can not look away, but you want to.

Something is emerging from the cold dangerous water. It looks like a human. The light suddenly disappears and I can see clearly what is there. Tom, it is my Tommy. Now I can see him, not only hear his voice. A gift, a rare gift. The dead mingling with the living. What is he doing here? He said he would come back, but not here, not right now, did he?

He is flouting, Jesus like, on top of the water, his bare feet barley touching it. I have no idea what is going on.

From somewhere, a soft voice starts singing:

“The day has come

Oh the day has arrived

It has been released

There is no going back

Don’t try to fight

No turning back

Something has come

It will be done.”

It all seems strangely familiar. Tom is still not moving. My eye catches something moving at the edge of the lake close to the trees. I can only glimpse her. A young girl, wearing a pretty yellow dress. I hear her sweet laugh, and in this strange moment, even though everything is definitely not as if should be, I envy her. I cannot see her face. She disappears into the forest.

My feet start to move, I am conscious of them doing it, and I know I am the one willing them into movement, but I don’t know why. I get closer and closer to the water. My sneakers start to get soaked, and then the liquid starts to crawl into my jeans, making my legs heavy. I continue moving, I want to stop, but at the same time I don’t want to. I don’t know how to. Its like I am supposed to do this, and somehow deep down , I know. The water is up to my neck, the mud from below feels unstable, I take a last look into the center of the lake where Tommy is. He is smiling and I smile too, and just like that my legs continue walking until my whole body is surrounded by the heavy blackness.

My lungs immediately start to resent the lack of oxygen. I try to take a breath of air and water leaks inside of me. I am drowning, willingly drowning.

I get it.

The exchange. I was supposed to die in this lake. It’s my destiny to drown. Maybe Tommy never saved me, and some years of my future life flashed right in front of my eyes, making me feel like I had lived it. And then maybe he did not die and is still alive out there.

Or maybe all of it did happen, and I will still die here.

“It is time, Caroline” Tommy says  “Let go”.

And I do. I let go.

My lungs collapse, filled with water.

I now know that something, what it feels to die.  

There is no more oxygen. There is no more life. There is no more thought. Just like that, I cease to exist.

The end

Sorry it took me so long to finish this one. 

All my loving.

C.L.S.A

The fault in our stars

Just a small (and not so good, might I add) drawing of the main characters of the book I am currently reading. "The fault in our stars" is cute, kind of sad, real, funny and a delight to read.  

"My thoughts of stars I cannot fathom into constellations"- John Green.

XXX

C.L.S.A

Something (part four)

Something (part four)

by: Carla Sierra Arzuffi 

I crawl my way into the bathroom and to the shower. Every movement aches. Every breath burns. Every thought feels like its killing me.
I manage to stand on my feet and I look at myself in the mirror. My face is distorted from the crying, I cant recognize myself, its like another person is standing right in front of me and staring back. A new me. A better one? Probably not.

I turn the water on, I step inside those small walls and close the curtain. The hot water starts to wash my sins. I feel so filthy. I let it burn my skin. Every inch of it. I take the bottle of my favorite coconut body wash and I pour the white liquid into my bath sponge. I start scrubbing myself hard, and then harder and harder. I need to take it off, everything: the regret, the pain, the masks. I am on a mission, even if this means ripping and tearing my skin off with my own fingers. I scrub and scrub until I start to bleed, I can see the liquid turning pink. Pink used to be my favorite color when I was little girl.

And at that moment I remember myself as a child. Innocent, clueless, happy. Jumping up and down the stream, not caring that the splash of the water and mud is soaking me, turning my favorite pretty yellow dress into a dirty cloth. I hear the gentle voice of my mother calling my name, and her laughter as she sees me standing there, a mess, but a happy mess.

I stop scrubing. I suddenly feel lighter. Fine, it will all be fine. Tommy is here for a reason, and its good he is here. I need to see him, talk to him, try to make everything better. This opportunity is a rare gift. I can make things right with him again.
I wrap myself with a towel.

"Hey peanut, are you hungry?" I hear my dad calling from the hallway. He is back from his Sunday chores.
"Yes" I answer as I open my closet and take out my favorite pair of jeans and a simple black tank top.
"Im making burgers, see you downstairs" he calls again.

I make my way to the backyard where my dad is already cooking the meat. He smiles when he sees me.
"Its a beautiful day to be locked up inside, don't you think?"
"Sure is dad" Sure is.

I set the table and help with the making of our meal. My dad and I don't talk much, we don't have to, we are both strange creatures that don't feel the need to fill every silence with empty words. But today I feel like talking to him. To let him comfort me with his words, even if I don't tell him everything.
We are sitting on the table, he is enjoying a sip of his cold beer as I chew the juicy burger.

"So dad, I was thinking" I say
"Whats up peanut?" he asks. He knows that when I start a sentence with 'So dad, I was thinking' it means something is definitely up.
"Well, I think I might want to go back" I take a deep breath "Visit the lake" I clear my throat "Where it happened", my voice is shaking, this does not go by unnoticed by my dad, besides, I don't ever talk about it, about that place and that day.

"Wow, Caroline. I dont know what to say, I mean sure. We can go"
"I want to go there alone, but I was hoping you could drive me, maybe, stay in the car" I say looking down at my plate. He takes a big sip from his alcohol. Im betting he needs it right now.
"Ok. I get it. What brought this on?'" he asks, trying to find my eyes.

"I dont know" but I do know. "Its just, I think its time, its all part of the process I guess". 
"Are you sure you are ready?"
"Yes" I say, but this time I look straight into his blue eyes. I don't need to say it aloud. He knows, and I know.

I was young when my mom died, I don't remember much of the grief, but I do remember how my dad looked. How he acted. I don't need to explain this to him because he dealt with things the same way I did. Hiding the pain. Slowly, very slowly working his way up into a normal, stable life. A new life without the person he used to love.

In days like this I miss my mom, I wish she was here to share this beautiful (and scary) day. I didn't know her that well, and she didn't get to see me grow, but I think is she was alive we would have a very good mother-daughter relationship. Maybe I wouldn't have to hide so much. But she is not here, all I have is my dad. And although sometimes I wish he could see me more (the lost desperate girl inside of me) he is, overall, a pretty good dad.

"When do you wanna go?" 
"How about now?" I say, while chewing the last part of my meal.
"Lets go then"

I am going back to the place I fear most. But I have to, I have to be ready for tonight. Maybe I am rushing myself into feeling all those things I suppressed for so long. But I feel like now is the time, and there is not much of it left. Its now or never. Now or never.

To be continued...

C.LS.A

Something (Part three)

Something (Part three)

by: Carla Sierra Arzuffi

I feel hot. I'm sweating. I start to come back from the dream world. My body and eyelids feel so heavy. I don't wanna move. Im too comfortable. 

I slowly open my eyes, the clock greets me marking 12:34 am. Its midday already? I cant believe I overslept. Its Sunday, and as a teenager I am allowed to sleep till noon, but I have never, ever slept this late into the day. I turn and the sun coming trough my window blinds me. So that is why I was so hot. My blinds are open, allowing those heavy hot ray of lights to roast me for hours. Did I forgot to close my blinds last night? I never forget to close them. I stare at the ceiling while trying to shake off this strange feeling from last night dreams.

Last night. And then it hits me. 

Last night. The something in my room. 

I spring into a sitting position too quickly, I feel dizzy and have to put my head between my legs. 

I lower my feet into the ground and wiggle my toes and fingers to prove that they are working. 

I start to search my entire room trying to find a proof that there was someone with me last night. The only indication of something being out of place are my blinds, which I am almost sure I closed before I went to bed.

Suddenly I feel nauseous. The upper half of my body instantly folds making me feel like a paper doll and I puke, what it feels like my entire intestines, all over my beige carpet. My legs are shaking and my knees give in into the ground. I continue emptying everything I ate, and some other stuff I can not bring myself look at. I cant stop. I feel like I am drowning in my own filth. I cant breathe in, I can only release.
After I don't know how long the puking finally ends. I crawl into a fetus position and cry. I don't care that I am laying in my vomit. I don't feel like moving, I only want to cry.

The sun catches up with me and starts to burn me while I just let it dry my fresh tears.
I know why I am crying. Because of him, the one I was never able to cry for, not even when he died. I have never been a crying kind of gal.
Last night I could not recognize his voice, there was something different about it. But now I know it was him. It had to be him, or some form or part of him. He has found a way back to me, or I found a way back to him.
He was here. I felt his breath on my neck.
Tom.

Last year he drowned, trying to save me. Which he did.
The week before his death we had a terrible fight, the worst. I guess it was because we were both scared to accept our true feeling about each other. We were so careful, tiptoeing around each other like we were made of thin ice and a simple rash movement could break us into a million pieces. It took us a long time to find a way to be together, and when we did we both got so scared we almost destroyed each other, everything about us. Or maybe we did and I am finally accepting it.
I dont know if he was following me that day, or maybe he just knew.
I was stupid, I fell into the water and didn't realized I was drowning until it was too late. I kept thinking: "This is how I die. Im going to die. Im sorry for everything". I swear I saw a light and at that moment a body wrapped itself into mine and pushed me into the surface with an inhumanly force. I didn't have to look at him to know it was Tom. There was no one to save him. He never resurfaced.

I didn't want to hear what the police had to say about the accident. Because when I took that first breath of fresh air after he saved me I knew it had been him instead of me. A trade of some kind. How did I knew it? I don't know. I just did.

After, I blocked everything and everyone. My life became the same boring routine as it ever was. I never wanted to remember the drowning, I didn't want to acknowledge it had happened to me. I wanted to forget him so I could forget my pain and regret.

But you cant run from things forever. Here I was, completely surrounded by my reopened wounds and my most horrible memories. And him, he was back. I didn't know why. Maybe he was here to help me let go, maybe he was here to tell me something important, maybe he was here to get revenge, maybe he was here to scare the shit about of me. Maybe.
I cant know the why, until he comes back again. He said he would come back, now would he?

I guess that fortune teller was right, I was hoping and fearing she was, and that she wasn't.
People are right when they say "Be careful what you wish for" 

To be continued...

C.L.S.A 

Something (Part two)

Something (Part two)

By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi

It is an unexplainable feeling. My heart is beating faster than usual, my breath is extremely loud, there is a tingling in my toes, and yet I cannot move. I feel as though I might explode into a million pieces right in this moment. And yet I cannot move. My eyes search franticly for a piece of information that can explain what is happening right at this moment. The green fluorescent numbers of my alarm clock mark that one-minute has passed. And still I cant move. 

I hear a soft pacing coming from the right side of my room. I try to hold my breath. I feel it. There is something here, inside. I don’t want that something to know that I am awake, or incapable of moving. I feel completely exposed. The pacing grows louder. Someone, or something is here with me, and it is getting anxious. Of what?
Plap.

Plap, plap.

Plap, plap, plap.

Faster and faster. Why can’t I move?

Suddenly there is silence. I do not dare to take a breath, even tough I desperately need one. I feel something lean on my bed. I can feel its weight crashing on the mattress. A tear starts to slide down my cheek. I want to rub if off.

All I can think is “Please, please, don’t kill me, whatever or whoever you are, don’t kill me. Im not ready to die. Not yet. Please”.

“I wont kill you” a deep manly voice whispers close to my ear. I feel a goose bump rise on top of my neck and travel down my spine. Did I just hear that? 
Did I say what I was thinking out loud? No, that is not possible. Nothing of what is happening right now is possible. I want to yank free from these invisible ropes that are holding me so tight, too tight. I cant breathe, I cant think clearly. I am scared shitless. A million confusing questions fill my mind. Another tears escapes my eyelid. Am I dreaming? Is this real? It feels real. But it cant be. 

I hear footsteps on the hallway outside my bedroom. Its probably my dad, half asleep and stumbling on his way to his bedroom as he does every night. The something hears it too.  

“I cant stay, I have to go. But I will be back my sweet Caroline” the something whispers again, this time closer to my ear, so much closer that I can feel his breath on my neck. He gets up from my bed, the mattress makes a groaning-like sound. And then there is the plap plap plap again. It fades away into silence.

My body slowly starts to relax and I can move my stiff limbs again. The drowsiness of the moment starts to take over me, and before I can think of what just happened I fall asleep.

I dream of a cave filled with cobwebs, millions of them, rapidly surrounding me, applying pressure over my broken body. I am loosing control. The fight inside of me is long gone. A deep laugh echoes in the darkness of the cave as a sweet voice that comes from somewhere below sings:

“The day has come

Oh the day has arrived

It has been released

There is no going back.

Don’t try to fight.

No turning back.

Something has come.

It will be done.”

To be continued...

C.L.S.A

Something (Part one)

Something (Part one)

By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi

The night is hotter than usual. I am sitting on a field, surrounded by the dark. The steamy wind makes the long grass sing. The crickets are playing their regular symphony of distorted sounds. Other things move, but I do not know what they where. I am waiting for something, something to happen. Anything. Here I am, completely exposed. Just me, in the darkness. Vulnerable.

I am desperately waiting for a bear to spring out of nowhere and rip my head off, or a ghost to float into the field and consume my soul, or for a group of aliens to fly right on top of me, abduct me, and make horrible experiments with my body, to see a goddess fall out of the sky, or just for a ridiculous sparkly fairy to twirl in front of me. But no. Nothing is happening. Not even a spider dares to bite me. I urge for something that is must defiantly not coming.

I inhale a huge chunk of air and exhale in desperation. I get up and decide to take the long way home. I could just take the 10 minutes, perfectly safe and illuminated road, but oh no, today I am feeling on a dangerous strike. So the long way it is. It takes me 40 minutes to get home, I expected for something to creep out of every corner, but yet again, nothing happened. I am as always, safe, not even a single scratch marks my body.

Dad is sleeping in front of the T.V, no surprise here. I take the dirty dishes off the table and start scrubbing them in the sink like my life depends on this single task. When I finish this I serve myself dinner, which consists of four old Oreo cookies. A thought that I could choke on them crosses my mind, but they manage to pass through my system without any a choking hazard moment.

I go back into the living room, give my dad a kiss on the forehead as he mumbles the usual “Goodnight honey” and I go up to my room. So, it all was a terrible joke. In about 40 minutes my week to have a ‘life changing, supernatural experience’ will end. I am not surprised, but I kind of am.

Precisely one week ago a fair come to town. I went there with my two best friends, Carrie and Hanna, and while they decided to go for a ride in ‘Dante Inferno’ rollercoaster I visited the fortuneteller booth. The woman looked exactly how a fortuneteller should look. I have to admit I bought the whole ‘magic’ show. And so she told me that the upcoming week would mark my life. That something would happen, something terrible or something amazing, but that something would be supernatural, and it would change my life forever.

I was excited, even if it meant it was something terrible, because nothing even remotely interesting ever happens in my life. I always want more, but more is not an option in a small town like the one I live in. So yes, the whole week I was expecting something, and nothing happened. So tonight, I was really angry and decided to go look out for my ‘life changing experience’ instead of just sit and wait for it.

“What an asshole”- I say out loud to myself.

How could I be so stupid? I proceed to change into my old, most comfortable pajamas, brush my teeth and hair, and jump exhausted into my bed. I fall asleep almost immediately. 

Exactly five minutes before my time expires I open my eyes and glance at the clock. Something feels extremely wrong. Something is about to happen.  

To be continued...

C.L.S.A

Loneliness and Solitude

“Loneliness is black coffee and late-night television; solitude is herb tea and soft music. Solitude, quality solitude, is an assertion of self-worth, because only in the stillness can we hear the truth of our own unique voices.” 

― Pearl Cleage -

Mary-go-round (Chapter eight and last one)

Mary-go-round

By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi

(If you missed some of the other chapters of this story, like 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, or 7 just scroll down and you will find them, yes as simple as that) 


Chapter eight: The white halo. 

If you have this constant itch with your life, like something is wrong, as if you are supposed to be doing something better and you feel that you don't belong were you are, would you do something to change it?

Of course I was nervous, no matter what Peter said, I didn't like this idea, at all.
He said that you can die in a dream, and all of this was supposed to be a dream, even so, it was just irrational and stupid to think that I could jump off a building and not die. But I had to do it, I at least had to try, if all that Peter had said was true, then I had to do something.

We walked into town, hiding with caution, as Peter could not be seen, yet. When we finally arrived at the back alley of the elders building we realized we had no idea on how to get to the roof. Peter was pacing round and round making me dizzy.
"There has to be a way" he said determined to see his plan trough.
"There must be some external stairs to the roof don't you think?" I said
"Yes, maybe" Peter said excited "Wait here".

While he was gone I tried to concentrate, I had to believe all of this was real, that what I was about to do was worth so something. My mind kept going back to old Tom´s book and all that he had wrote. I thought about all my life, those moments I thought they were real, but they were not. Did the people in this town real deserved the truth? Would they want it? Could they take it?

10 minutes later Peter was back. "Come" he took my hand and I followed him to the front of the building.
"Peter, what are you doing?, they are going to see us"
"Shh" Peter said "Just act normal"
"Normal?" and with that said Peter walked trough the main doors, I followed him closely trying to act as normal as I could. We were not the only ones entering the main building. There was a cop behind the front desk reading the paper. I watched as the employees passed and ID in a little machine that made a peep sound. We didn't have one of those and I almost started to panic, but then Peter took something out from his pocket, he pressed his body into mine so we were considered as one person, he then passed what it seemed to be an ID trough the peeping machine and two small metal doors let us trough. Nobody noticed anything, the cop didn't even lift his eyes from the paper. I guess people of this town are expected to do the right thing, and bad things like two intruders trying to wake everyone up from and endless sleep are not expected, not even at the elders building. Maybe.

"Where did you get that?" I said to Peter smiling.
"In Happy Bagels"  Peter answered with confidence. "I was lucky Mr. Zuckenbergig had a craving for and onion and cream cheese snack".
"So you just took it from him?" I asked.
Peter ignored my question "Come we don't have much time until he notices his ID is missing, we should take the stairs"

We climbed the stairs as quickly as we could holding hands. We arrived on the top floor and there it was: the door to the roof. I was nervous, but inexplicably excited. Peter turned and smiled at me, he then opened the door.
The light blinded me at first, we stepped trough the metal door. Thats when I noticed that we were not alone. A group of old eight men in black suits were standing in a semi circle in front of us. Although I had never seen them, I didn't have to ask, I knew they were the elders.

"We were expecting you" said the oldest man in the group, his face was full of wrinkles (too much if you ask me) and his white hair was perfectly trimmed and polished, he had blue and white vacant eyes, he didn't look like a nice grandpa you can sit on the porch with to drink iced tea. He was scary.

"Oh the rebel kids, Marie and Peter, it was a nice try, but we cant let you do it" said another elder man, he barley moved his thin white lips, but he voice resonated trough the roof into my ears giving me the chills.
"We are not kids" Peter said, still holding my hand, which was sweaty and slippery. "How can you this to people? We deserve the truth, we deserve to wake up, to see the real world, to live real lives".

"Thats what you think young boy, but the order of things can not be changed, it will only bring chaos and destruction" the oldest man spoke again.

A thought to just make a run for it and jump of the building crossed my mind, surely someone must see me, and then that someone would be free, as would I. But I was completely paralyzed, I didn't know if the elders were doing something to my body so that I couldn't move, or if my body simply wasn't responding. It made sense that these old men that controlled all of us were standing here in-front of me, of course they could not let something like this happen. The whole "creeping into the building like spies" had felt to easy, they knew everything, they knew we were coming all along.

"It is over" one of the elders said.
There was something familiar about him, and then it hit me.
"Tom" I screeched.
"Tom?" Peter whispered.

There he was, old Tom, the one that had involved me into this whole thing, the one who had told Peter everything, and now he was one of them.
"What are you doing?" I asked. Old Tom didn't speak, he just stared at me, I noticed that his eyes were different, they had this white halo around the iris that they didn't have before. All of the elders had it.

"Tom decided to join us, he is good to us, he has a great mind, powerful, he is of great use" the oldest elder said.
"What have you done to him?" I screamed, I wanted to punch him, I wanted to knock all of them out with full force. They had brainwashed, or something, the man that wanted more than anyone to be free. He was a slave. All he wanted was gone, and now he was everything he hated.

"Don't be upset Marie, you will be free, and you too Peter. We can forgive your useless attempt to sabotage us, you will be set free, but let me warn you." Old Tom said "Don't think or try to come back here, if you do, we will kill you and your whole family and loved ones, you will be dead forever, and believe us when we tell you, we will know if you try to come back. We know everything."
This man that I had known all my life was now a elder-controlled-zombie threatening to kill us.
Peter turned and looked at me one last time, that look told me everything, we had lost, this was it.
And then I was gone, everything went black. I was conscious and I was lost. The dark was my companion, I could remember what had happened and then I couldnt. I didn't know what had happened to me.

Darkness. Cold. Darkness. Cold. Darkness. Cold. Desperation. Insanity.

Suddenly there was light, I could hear my own breathing gasping for air, my eyelids felt heavy, I opened them slowly and the intense light made me close them again. I tried several times until I could open them completely. I studied my surroundings. I was in a white room. I had tubes connected to my body. I gathered energy and managed to sit upright, I started disconnecting the tubes with my shaky hands. With every second that passed I felt stronger.

I placed my bare feet on the ground, I was surprised to be able to stand up. I walked towards what seemed to be a door in the room, I placed my hand in the doorknob and opened it.

Fresh air, real fresh air hit me in the face.
All I could see was beauty. I felt more alive than ever. Stronger. Healthier. Powerful. I felt happy, completely, utterly and undeniably happy. I smiled. And that was the beginning.

THE END.

Mary-go-round (Chapter seven)

Mary-go-round

by: Carla L. Sierra Arzuffi

Chapter seven: The ferris wheel

I remember when I was younger that I used to think that maybe I was different because I was meant for something great, something more; but of course it never crossed my mind that I was supposed to save my whole town from an endless sleep, from being controlled by the elders. What if they didn't want to be saved? What if they didn't want to wake up? Maybe they where happy in their fake happiness, maybe they where better off, not knowing the truth, never waking up. Getting old on a bed while dreaming their life's, away from real danger, turning into dust, never really moving. Was that life? Was that better?

As I was lost in thought Peter took my hand,
"Mary, are you okay?" 
"I dont know" I couldn't sit any longer, so I got up and started pacing in circles round the cliff.
"This is all very confusing Peter, I have million of questions"
"I know you do" Peter said pushing himself off the ground. "I did too, but its difficult to explain it all. You have to do it, and when you wake up, I don't know how, but everything will make sense. The world is waiting Marie, life is waiting" 
Peter walked towards me, he took my hands into his. "Listen, I know you must think you are going crazy, and you have too much in your plate right know, that this is too much, but just as you were meant to this, I was meant to help you, we are bound together" 
I looked right into Peter eyes, he was so sure of everything, he was Peter, and even though everything felt crazy and confusing I knew I could trust him.
"Mary" Peter whispered "I love you, I have always loved you, I don't know why I didn't say it before, before all of this, but I don't want it to be too late".
 I didn't expected it but Peter kissed me, he softly put his lips into mine and we kissed. I felt light. I felt the world. I felt alive. And I knew what I must do.
This is not life, sleeping is no life. Everyone deserved the truth, they deserved to wake up. They deserved living.

After we kissed we just stood there quietly for a few moments.
"What must I do?" I said now determined to put a stop to the elders control over all of us. Peter smiled.
"Dont you remember, in the book, "The fair of the deceased", what happened before everyone realized that is was all an illusion and they could all leave?"
"Tommy fell of the ferris wheel" I said remembering what Old Tom had wrote.
"Exactly, he didn't die, so that was a big shock and they all knew something was wrong"
"But we don't have a ferris wheel here"
"No we don't" Peter said "but we have the main building, the elders building, in town"
"The tallest building. Wait, you expect me to jump from it?"
"Yes, but you must first make a scene, so everyone sees you"
"Are you crazy?, I cant just jump of a building, Im gonna die" 
"No you wont" Peter said "Thats the thing, you wont die. You cant die in a dream" 

To be continued.... 

We are getting closer and closer to the end, can you feel it?

byebyebyebye

C.LS.A

Mary-go-round (Chapter six)

Mary-go-round

by: Carla L. Sierra Arzuffi

Chapter six: Darkness and Light. 

Peters story didn't make sense, it was confusing, everything was confusing, but at the same time, there was something familiar in what he was saying. And then I remembered, the book, "The fair of the deceased" they were also trapped, doing the same thing over and over again. Old Tom wrote the book, he knew!

"Peter" I said "all those people in town, that once in a while disappeared, like you, and everyone forgets, they go through the same thing as you right?"
Peter nodded.
"But why? how? who is doing this? how did you get away? how did you came back?"
"Well, I was getting to this part of the story"
I listened carefully.
"So when I realized something was wrong, I started thinking, and like you just said, I realized all the people in town that disappear somehow end up there, where I was, in this weird dimension, and then I started wondering why us?, why my family? and then it hit me. My dad, he worked for the elders, he knew things, things that are not supposed to be known. Im guessing he discovered something and they had to get rid of us, so we wouldn't interfere with the peace and happiness of people. So there I was, I knew, but I was still stuck. I pondered and thought how could I get away."
"The front door" I said.
Peter looked surprised "How did you know?"
"The book" I said as I took the book out. "One of the characters stuck in the fair realizes that in order to get away, to get away from the endless cycle, he has to do the simplest of things."
"Leave" Peter says.
"Yes, leave"


"Well thats what I did" Peter continued "I walked into my front door, I don't know why I didn't do it before. I opened it and stepped out. Then this weird thing happened, I was sucked by this sort of energy and I was floating through darkness, my body felt like it was going to explode and then, and then I opened my eyes. And I saw everything, I saw everyone, I saw light"
"What do you mean" I asked.
"Mary, I dont know how to explain this, this, now, is not real. This is not the real world, its all fake, fake"
"Fake" I repeated his words.
"Yes fake, when I woke up and opened my eyes I was in a white room, and I had cables and things stuck in my arms, legs, chest, everywhere. I unplugged them. I remember feeling dizzy, but at the same time I felt alive, like never before, like I had just woken up from the longest of dreams, not even when I was supposed to be living my real life here with you felt so real. I saw a door I clumsily walked to it and opened it. Oh Marie the things I saw, the world, the real world, it was out there, for me, within my reach."
"Did you go out?" I asked him.
"No" he answered "Because I remembered about my parents and about you. I don't know how I was going to do it, but I had to come back for them, and for you, I went back into the bed full of cables and started to connect them back again into my body, when I was finished I thought of home, where I last had been. I don't know how it happened but suddenly I was being sucked into darkness all over again. And I was home. I told my parents everything, and they believed me. So the three of us went out the front door, I found myself yet again the white room, my parents where not there, so I imagined they had their own white rooms."

My brain was racing trying to maintain and understand all the information and things Peter was talking about.
"I didn't disconnect myself and then I thought of you and while I was being sucked back into the dream world old Tom appeared right in-front of me, floating in the darkness, and without speaking he told me everything, the truth, what was happening, and about you"
"What about me?" I asked.
"Marie, you are meant to save us, to save everyone, we have to stop this, we have to make everyone wake up, it is time, its time to wake up the deceased."

To be continued....

I hope you all are enjoying and understanding this story.
Badadim-badadum.
C.LS.A

The lucky four

There are four (because five is too mainstream) people that have completely changed my life without them knowing it. They have been a complete inspiration and essential in particular moments in my life. I don't know them and they obviously don't know me, but I will always love them and be grateful.
Here they are:

1. J.k Rowling: Harry Potter did so many things for me, when I was 13 it brought my love for reading back to life, it united me with my now best friends and it took me to a magical world on and on and on and on. What more can I ask for? Thanks J.K!

2. Peter Jackson: he is the director of my favorite movies of all time "The Lord of the Rings", of course the books are amazing (thanks Tolkien) but for me this is the ONLY case that a movie is better than the book. My love for this trilogy is eternal, it will never die, and whenever I need to cheer up, I just sit and watch this amazing (extended versions) movies for a whole weekend and then everything is somehow alright.  Thanks Peter!

3. Cat Stevens: now known as Yusuf Islam. His songs and lyrics manage to inspire and touch me every single time. Its weird, its like this stranger and me are connected, and the things he sings and talks about make perfect sense. His music was there when I must needed something/someone to understand. Thanks Yusuf!

4. Kelly Link: two years ago I didn't know who this lady was, but by chance, when I was traveling in Rome, I came across one of her books entitled: "Pretty Monsters". Long story short, this book, by this particular author helped me come out of my shell as a writer. I use to love writing, but I always felt stiff, like I couldn't just write what I wanted, but then I read Miss Link and then Booooom!, I felt allowed and entitled to put on writing my crazy ideas, worlds, characters and peculiar way of writing, she helped finally set free my style as a writer. Thanks Kelly!

I had to draw them because, well, just because!
Hasta la vista baby!

C.L.S.A 

Mary-go-round (Chapter five)

Mary-go-round

By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi

Chapter five: "Riddles" 

When my mom woke me up in the morning I had trouble opening my eyes, my whole body felt heavy.

"Good morning sweetheart, how are you feeling?" my mom said as she opened the curtains.

I moaned pulling the covers over my head.

Everything about last night came back to me in a flash. Peter. Peter was here. The book. Old Tom. I had to meet Peter at the cliff.

I quickly pushed myself out of bed as my mom continued to make a survey of my room, picking clothes form the floor and rearranging things. I felt dizzy from the sudden sprout and I had to sit to recover myself. I saw the book was in the floor so I quickly picked it up and I placed it bellow my pillow. 

"What time is it?" I asked my mom placing my hands in my head. 

"9:00 am" she answered "I hope you are feeling better, Im gonna make you homemade pancakes with homemade syrup". She encouraged me to get up and directed me into the bathroom to take a shower.

I let the water run cold, I needed to be completely awake and aware of everything if I was going to be able to continue in this insanity of a plot that was developing around my life.

Breakfast went as usual, every now and then I would catch my dad looking at me in a weird way , maybe he knew something. Ok that was crazy, he didn't know anything, but maybe he sensed something had changed within me, I could sense it too, but I could not see it, maybe he could. Although my dad was a regular poster dad, he went to work all week, he played golf on the weekends, he was a master with the barbecue in get togethers and he treated my mother kindly and with respect, sometimes he would say something that would completely throw me off, just a quick comment that made me think he wasn't completely taken and settled with the perfectness of things and life. Or maybe I just wanted to believe that. At this point, everything was a riddle inside my brain. 

The hours passed slowly, but finally at 11:15 I took the book, said my goodbyes to my family and told them I was going into town to buy socks, which I really needed, that wasn't a lie, entirely.  

My cliff was at the outskirts of town, people never went there, they didn't need to, they had everything they needed inside our perfect little town. From this magical place I could see the mountains stretching endlessly into the sky, it always made me feel better to sit at the edge and just stare at the wholeness of the world I so desperately wanted to figure out. 

The walk to the cliff usually took me half and hour, but today I was walking slower than usual, so exactly at 11:55 I was climbing the road to my magical place. From the distance I saw him. So it hadn't been a dream, it was real. Peter was back in town. 

He was staring into the mountains so he didn't see me coming, but Im sure he could hear me. 

"Hey" I said softy. 

Peter turned and I could finally see his face clearly. He was still beautiful.

"Hey" he said back with a smile. "Im glad you came" 

Of course I would come, I thought to myself. How could I not. 

He motioned me to sit as he did the same. Our legs hanged from the cliff as the warm air crashed softly into our faces and hair. 

"I need you to tell me everything" I said staring right into his eyes. For a moment it was like he had never left, like we were still 17, young and happy. 

"Yes" Peter said, he took a deep breath. 

We were silent for a few seconds, and then he started his story. 

"We had no waring, it all happened so quickly, that night, the night of prom, I arrived home with my spirits high, since it had been a wonderful night" 

I smiled remembering it all. 

"I was surprised to see the lights on, since I thought my parents would be in bed, but they were not. As I entered the house I saw my mom sitting on the couch with her hands on her face, I could hear my dad at his study, moving stuff, cursing. I approached my mom and asked if everything was alright, she looked and me, and with that simple look I knew something was wrong. I walked inside my dads study and I saw him going through piles and piles of paper, he stopped for a second and all he said was "I´m sorry", I didn't know what he was asking forgiveness for, but a few seconds later there was a big crash on the door, I heard my mother scream. I saw five men, dresses all in black come inside, my adrenaline was running high, I tried to protect my father, but it was a stupid attempt, one of the men in black approached me and touched me with something, I don't remember or know what it was, but I was immediately out, darkness took me, and I feel asleep, or something like that. I was aware, conscious in a way, but nothing around me in this darkness made sense". 

I didn't know what was Peter talking about, I could see he didn't truly understand it himself, he was still confused, I moved my hand and placed it into his. This seemed to gave him strength to continue his story. 

"I dont know how long I was out, it could have been minutes, hours, days or months, but then light started to creep slowly into my dreams, and I woke up. I was in my bed, in my room. I remember being so confused, and everything was a blur, I heard my mothers voice downstairs, even though I was dizzy I managed to get out of bed and walk down the stairs following the familiar voice of the woman I used to know as my mother, and there she was, in the kitchen, making breakfast. My dad came in, he smiles at me and said "Good morning champ" my mother turned and started at me "Hey Peter, did you sleep well?" she said. I was confused, to say the least. But then I wasn't, in just a second. It was like everything was okay again, like everything had just been a bad dream. Life went on as usual, or at least I thought it did. Everything felt normal, we all looked normal, except we weren't." 

I risked interrupting him "Peter" I said "I don't really understand what you are saying". 

"I know" he answered "I didn't at first, Im telling you what I remember, how I remember it, how I felt". 

He shifted his body so he was now staring directly at me. 

"The thing was, nothing was normal, I didn't notice, we didn't noticed, but we never left the house, I don't know how we could not see that, it was so obvious, but we didn't, it all was like a dream, like a movie that kept playing over and over again. We were trapped, inside the house, inside the same routine, every single day. Again, I don't know how long we were like this, I was blinded, doped, lost. But one day, I woke up, and I could remember, I could remember you. You had been lost inside my head for so long. I didn't remember you existed, but suddenly I did. Mary, you. And then I could remember almost everything, my past, my life, and I knew something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong"

TO BE CONTINUED.....

I´m alive, I think. All my loving.

C.LS.A

Mary-go-round (Chapter four)

Mary-go-round

By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi

Chapter four: Peter

The last time I saw Peter was four years ago, at prom night. Peter and I grew up together, we were always in the same classroom and he lived just a few houses from mine. His mom and mine were good friends so we had a lot of play dates together. As we grew older the uncomfortable feeling of growing up and actually becoming a girl and a boy put a strain on our friendship for a while, but we managed to save it, he was my rock.

After he and his family moved away (disappeared) the day after prom night I had a hard time copping. People in our town don’t just move away, it is a very weird thing to happen, but every 10 years or something, it happens, and when it does, they never come back. At first it always shocks the community, but then they start talking less and less about them until they are just a forgotten memory, like they never existed.

Me on the other hand, I couldn’t just let go. The space that Peter had left was hard to fill, when someone is that crucial to your life and routine you cant just simply cut the cords and move on. At first, I didn’t understand how everyone else could do it, I would watch my mom for hours trying to catch a glimpse of her missing Peters’ mom, it never happened.

Every time I tried to talk about it, talk about him, the people around me would just smile and say “He is gone Mary, you just have to move on”. And I tried. I really tried. The truth was that I had been in love with Peter, actual-real-love, every fiber of my body and mind was attached to him, when I was with him I felt like I could continue this fake life is Peter was by my side.

The only person I could talk to about Peter was, of course, old Tom. He always listened, he would let me rant, cry and sometimes laugh hysterically. He just sat there, waiting patiently until I poured out everything I was feeling. I knew he could understand me, because when he was younger, much younger, something similar had happened to him.

Peter never talked about moving, or going anywhere, I knew things where tense inside his family; Peter talked about his dad and mom fighting, which is very unusual in this town. His dad was a researcher for the elders, I never knew exactly what he did, but Peter said it was something important.

So, I couldn’t understand how it was possible that Peter was here right now, and that I was actually seeing him. Peter no longer looked like a boy, he was better built now, and he had a hint of a beard, but his face looked the same. Peter moved his arm, motioning me to go down to the patio. I was wearing a thin nightgown and nothing else, my feet were bare, my hair was a mess after the bath and I again was sweating like a baby pig. But none of that mattered. My body moved like a magnet being pulled into his opposite and before I could notice I was outside.

The night was dark, I searched for Peter, who was just a few minutes, or seconds ago, standing right here, but I could not see him. A thought crossed my mind, maybe I was finally going crazy and with everything that had happened today I could not deny that it was a possibility, and now I was imagining people. But then I heard a “Psstt, Mary, over here”

I turned right and I saw something moving in the bushes, I moved quickly, when I reached the place were I was sure I had heard Peter voice I felt something, someone put his arms around me. At first I flinched, it scared me, but even though I could not see him, I could smell him. It was Peter. Defeated I put my arms around him.

“Its so good to see you Mary” Peter whispered in my ear. I don’t know why, but hearing this made something inside me burn, I pulled away and I slapped him right in the face.

I could now make out his features. He touched his cheek and smiled.

“I guess I deserved that, in some way”.

“What are you doing here” I said, my voice was breaking “Where did you go? Why? Why didn’t you told me? You were gone, and you never called or send me a letter or a smoke signal that your were okay”

Peter looked right into my eyes as I let myself say some of the things I had been holding for years. I couldn’t help it, I started crying, the warm tears fell into my cheeks reminding me what it felt to feel something.

“Well, that’s a lot of questions” Peter said with just a hint of pain in his eyes “I know I would have the same ones, I want to explain, I will explain, but not now, not here” he whispered.

I stared at him in shock “What is happening, I don’t understand anything”.

“I know you don’t, at first I didn’t too, but you will soon. You have to be strong, I know you can”.

I swallowed and whipped the tears with my hands “Okay” was all I said.

Peter smiled, it was his same beautiful smile, that smile that use to make everything okay, and just for a second I felt like everything could be okay.

“Meet me tomorrow at the cliff, be there around noon, and I will explain, bring the book” with that said he moved and gave my cheek a sweet kiss, I felt the warmth of his lips touch my tears, and then he was gone.

I knew now that old Tom, Peter and the book were connected, but I still didn’t know why. I walked back to my house and room; I picked the book from the floor. I crumbled into my bed holding it, and even though I thought I was not tired, I instantly fell asleep.

 To be continued ......

C.LS.A

Mary-go-round (Chapter three)

"Mary-go-round"

By Carla Sierra Arzuffi

Chapter three: "Sweaty baby pig"

Tom had written the book, old Tom, my old Tom, how could I have not noticed this earlier?
It was just there, so obvious to notice. My mind was racing a thousand miles per second trying to recover every bit of information I could remember about this book. I could remember the story almost perfectly, but I wanted to remember what old Tom had said to me about this book. I couldn't remember.

I felt blocked, the silence of house, as dawn was creeping into the windows made me shiver, I didn't feel safe here. I took the book and managed to hide it inside my clothes, placing it close to my stomach. I didn't want anyone to see me getting out of old Tom´s house, so I again used the back door.

I started my way home, hiding in the bushes, if anyone saw me, they would think I was crazy, I looked suspicious, so when I was finally near my block I walked right into the street and tried to look normal (happy).
When I finally stood in front of my house I felt relived, but just a few seconds, because the moment I crossed the front door I started to panic that my family would notice something was "off" with me. And yes, something was definitely off with me.

I tried to creep silently into my room but before I could climb the stairs my mom spoke.
"Mary, is that you?"
Her head popped into the living room, she was wearing her usual "#1 mom and wife" apron, which only meant she was cooking dinner.
"Oh, it is you" she said with a smile "I was beginning to get worried that you wouldn't come for dinner" all I could do was make my biggest effort to force a crooked and false smile.
"Of course not mom" I answered.

"Good, I want you to help me with dinner, Im almost done, Im making homemade vegetables pie, it is going to be delicious. Come come" she said as she disappeared into the living room.

I quickly took out the book from my now-sweaty-from-panic clothes and I stuffed it below the nearest couch.

I helped my mom with dinner, then I had to sit trough the whole event while my dad, mom and sister chitchatted about their day. They where eating slowly, every chew seemed like a thousand years to me. I was lost in thought when my dad spoke to me.

"Honey are you okay?" he asked.
I shifted in my seat, "Yeah dad, sure, why?"
"Well, I was talking to you, did you hear me at all?"
Of course I had not heard him.
"What is wrong with you?" my sister asked "You are sweating like a baby pig"
The words baby pig made me chuckle a little, it was all just so fake and irrational, why couldn't she say: Like a pig. She had to turn everything into a cutsie performance.
They where all staring at me.

"Im sorry" I managed to say "I guess Im not feeling that well, maybe I have the flu or something"
This seem to settle them.
"Oh the flu, my poor baby" my mom said "Im going to make you my homemade flu syrup, and by tomorrow morning you will feel better", everything  my mom did was homemade.

After dinner my mom pampered me, made me take a bath (I guess I really needed one, I was soaked in sweat), she made me drink her magical syrup and I was sent to bed early.

I just sat there, in my room, waiting for everyone to go to bed so I could recover the book. Finally at around 11:00 pm I heard my dad turn off the lights in the hallway.
I waited another twenty minutes or so and then I carefully went downstairs. I was relived to find the book was where I had left it.
I tipped toed back again into my room.
I sat in bed and opened the book.
If I was going to find the answers to this awful, confusing mess I knew I had to read the book all over again.
I made myself comfortable and started reading:

They were all lost souls, they all knew each other, they where all trapped. The fair was always as it was. The games, lights, food and characters where always the same. Although they were all tired and restless they did the same thing, over and over again. Jaime was in charge of the mechanics, Kate was in charge of the food, Nestor was in charge of the tickets, and so on and so on. They couldn't change their routine, because if they did, terrible terrible things could happen.

As I was finishing the first paragraph and recalling the first time I had read it there was a loud "crack" at my window. I jumped. The book fell into the floor.
A few seconds passed as my breathing got higher and higher, and then there was another loud "crack".
I could feel my heart in my ears, methodically racing, boom-boom-boom-boom.
I slowly got out of bed and approached my window,
There, standing in my lawn, was him.
Him.
"Peter" I breathed out.

To be continued. 

If you want should  read the other chapter just scroll down, as easy as that. Badaboom.

C.LS.A

Mary-go-round (Chapter Two)

Mary-go-round

By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi

Chapter two: Our little secret

I dont know how long I stood there, completely frozen, I was in shock, but must of all I was trying to figure our what old Tom was talking about. In a weird way, the letter made sense to me, I was destined to know more, that something, but I wasn't sure what that was. I knew there was something hidden in the letter, something that only I could understand, my mind was racing trying to swallow all the information. But most of all I was scared. I was scared for me: old Tom said that "they" were going to find me. I was scared of knowing the truth: because once you know something there is no turning back. And last but not least I was scared for my dear old friend: Where did he go? Why? Had something bad happened to him? Was I ever going to see him again?

I kept reading the same line over and over again "The answers can be find in the most obvious of places", and then it suddenly hit me, of course, his books. The first thing I did was I took the box of matches that was placed at his mantelpiece and I burned the letter. His words were quickly consumed by the orange and yellow fire. When I was done destroying the evidence I approached his bookshelf, I don't know how, but I knew the answers he was talking about were to be found in the books that he loved so much, that I loved so much.

My eyes scanned the hundreds of books, a title popped out, "The fair of the deceased" again I don't know how, but I knew that was the book.

When I was 15 old Tom had let me borrow this book, he told me it was one of his favorites, and it quickly became one of mine. What was so amazing about this book was not only the fantasy and unexplainable things that happened in the story, but the characters, so unusual, so unhappy, and to me: so real.
We didn't discussed this particular book, like we used to do with the other books he had lend me, but I remember his face when I returned it to him 3 days later after I had borrowed it, I placed it into his hands and said "I loved it, so much, too much", he smirked at me, and winked. And that was that, we never talked about it, even though I always wanted, and it was like it was our little secret, this book of unhappy deceased people unable to run away from a fair, where they where trapped, forever.

I took the book from the shelf and I carefully opened it. The book was the same, and at the same time, it wasn't. Something was different, at first I could not tell what  it was, but then I noticed. It was not the book that had changed, but me, I could now notice the most obvious and special thing in the book.
The author.
"The fair of the deceased" by Thomas Cavagthar.  
The book was written by my friend, old Tom.

To be continued.....

Im talking advantage of the very appreciated free days that Im having from work to return to my writing habits, hope you like it,
Lovelovelovelovelovelove....

C.LS.A