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

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