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"
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
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