For a minor reflection

‘’I’ve got an idea about something I want to write about. It’s been on my mind for some time now. It’s about a man who decides to enrol in the secret service and falls in love with an older female agent. They fall in love, but then she decides to walk away for somebody else. They had this thing; they would play Russian roulette, but with fake bullets. She liked the adrenalin rush.’’

Her heart started pounding as she was listening to him. Don’t look at him, don’t look at him was all she could think about.

‘’I’ll be leaving in a couple of weeks… Will you even miss me?’’

She was looking at the wet asphalt trying to avoid answering his question. He approached her until his head rested on her left shoulder. She put her right hand on his hand and gently caressed him. Her hands were cold and she started trembling. It wasn’t that cold outside; she just got a glimpse of his shattered hopes.

‘’It’s going to be strange not seeing you anymore and going out with you.’’

‘’You didn’t answer my question though. What do you mean by strange?’’

‘’I got used to seeing you almost every day and talking to you. I’ll miss talking to you.’’

‘’You’re still not answering my question. Let’s leave it at that.’’

She woke up with the most terrible headache. His words were pounding in her mind.  It was another ordinary day in her ordinary life.

She was resting her head on the pillow. She could feel each muscle in her body trembling as she was laying down. Even though it was August, she felt cold shivers in her body and her feet were cold as well. She was trying to empty her mind, but fragments of the entire day were playing in her mind. She was her own prisoner.  

Morning kisses

Summer mornings are her favourite with the exception of the blinding sunlight which pierces her curtains. She can feel the warmth in the room and tiny sweat drops on her forehead. Yet another restless night by the looks of her sheets. She would lazily stretch her body until she gets goose bumps on her hands.

A lock of brown hair was resting on her right arm. Zoe smiled. The room was dimly lit by a purple light. She could hear the morning wind rustling through the curtains. She wondered what time it was and involuntarily looked at her right wrist, the usual place for her watch. Her phone was out of reach as well and she was not wearing her glasses; no chance to see the display of her other watch which was on the shelf behind her. As she turned on her other side there she noticed that Amanda was still sleeping. She seemed peaceful. Her breathing was calm and steady. Zoe carefully rolled on her right side so that she could face Amanda and put her right arm under the pillow. She didn’t want to wake Amanda. She watched the traces of her body as she was trying to refrain herself from touching her. She longed to feel her skin. Falling asleep next to someone feels good, but waking up next to the person you just fell asleep with is even better. It’s not only the sound of her voice that makes her peaceful, but also her presence that makes everything better. We all claim that we are different or weird, but after all we all want the same things. To love and be loved in return. We all long for security and ease of mind.

She suddenly felt an incredible craving for a freshly brewed pot of coffee. The smell of it enthralled her. She carefully dragged her body out of bed and put on a long, black t-shirt. Amanda didn’t seem to notice her absence. She then closed the bedroom door and headed towards the kitchen. As she opened the kitchen door, Zoe’s first instinct was to close her eyes since she was blinded by the bright light. But she liked it. She was barefoot; the floor cooled her body. She opened the window and inhaled the fresh morning air. It was so quiet. She felt as if she was alone in the crowded capital. As the water started boiling, she was still savouring the moment. After a couple of minutes she decided to go back to bed. They will have their morning coffee together.

Amanda didn’t even move. It seemed that she was still sleeping. Zoe tucked back into the bed next to her. When her head was resting on the pillow, she felt her glance. Amanda had moved and was staring at her. She looked scared. Zoe smiled and reached for her face to caress her hair. Her fingers slid down her face and on to the contour of her neck. She could feel her collar bones. She abandoned their delicate line to draw tiny circles on her soft skin. Amanda’s smell was invading Zoe’s senses. She slowly approached her lips, while her fingers were still resting on Amanda’s neck. Amanda closed her eyes. When their lips touched, Zoe felt an overwhelming warmth in her body. Her hands searched Amanda’s body. She wanted to feel her body next to hers. As her hands were wrapped around her body, she could feel that Amanda was trembling. Zoe kissed her forehead. She wanted her to feel protected as Amanda’s head was resting on her chest.

‘’What better way to start your day?’’

Silent but audible

What if I can’t forget you?

Fiecare calatorie cu metroul ma fascineaza. Ceea ce m-a sursprins in Bucuresti e multitudinea de smartphone-uri detinute de oameni. Orice piti sau cocalar care se respecta are un ifone; sau cel putin un blackberry roz, perfect asortat cu unghiile de 5 cm, care sunt si ele roz, desigur. In prima luna in Bucuresti abia asteptam sa merg cu metroul. Parca pe vremea aceea mai erau oameni care se ocupau si cu altceva decat butonat device-uri. Dar ceea ce mi-a placut a fost faptul ca mai vezi si oameni mai diferiti, boemi, nonconformisti, care citesc romane de autori ciudati.  

I’ll burn your name into my throat.

Ma cam enerveaza metrourile spre serviciu. Inteleg ca sunt hip si urban, toate pline de graffiti, dar te zgaltaie in ultimul hal. In plus, daca te-ai obisnuit cu vocea primitoare a doamnei  care te anunta ce statie urmeaza, fii pregatit sa ti se urle ca urmeaza statia Politehnica cu peronul pe partea stanga. Nu cred ca s-a inventat o pereche de casti care sa anlihileze complet zgomotele adiacente din metrou. Oricat de tare ar fi dat volumul, nu ai cum sa ratezi cel putin un ‘atentie se inchid usile’.

I’ll be the fire that will catch you.

Din motive practice, evit sa ma tin de o bara in jurul altor persoane. Totusi, cand e mult prea aglomerat sau pur si simplu aleg sa nu imi pese, mai trec peste. Nu suport privirea aceea nedumirita din ochii oamenilor. Se uita la incheietura, apoi la fata mea, apoi din nou la incheietura. Oare la ce se gandesc? Nu suport sa vad privirile lor pline de mila.

What’s so good about picking up the pieces?

Imi place sa ma uit la oamenii din metrou si sa ghicesc ce fel de viata au. Bine, pentru majoritatea e destul de evident. Dar mai vad ocazional oameni pe care nu pot sa ii citesc. Oare la asta se referea el? Asa aratam eu cand imi spunea ca nu ma poate citi?

None of the colours ever light up anymore in this hole. 

In another life

The life I live is mine to care

For all eternity to bear

All the choices i share

Every truth that i dare

Bring all mighty forces

For i am not complete

Surrounded by defeat

Trying to prevail

Overcome this wish to fail

I am no hero,

Nor am I a saint

Take the sword,

My friend

Show them you care. 

Walking memories

She felt his fingers grasping the skin on her neck. It didn’t even hurt. It was as if she was somewhere up on the ceiling while witnessing her own death. The thought did not move her. His grip tightened by the second, while her pink skin turned blue, then violet. She was unable to move her limbs; she was paralyzed. She chose to ignore the pain.

She felt the cold touch of the water on her feet. She left the house early in the morning, but forgot to put on her shoes. The surface of the water was frozen; it cracked as soon as she stepped on it. Her feet were usually frozen and wet. She did not feel a thing. She sighed and leaned forward. She looked down and kept walking. Her mind was elsewhere. They were looking at her, but she did not hear them. Her choice was to ignore the voices.

Her bloody fingers grabbing the blood stained sheets; the sheets were cutting the skin, opening the freshly carved words. The door was left ajar. He was standing in the dark, watching. For a moment, she felt like she was not alone. She had choked on the words she could not utter. It was on the floor, drenched in the warm body fluid. Yet he did not see it. He did not want to see it. He had chosen to ignore.

Her hands were tied while her face was touching the dirty floor. She was blindfolded. The white bandage which covered her eyes was soaked with salty tears. Her tears had carved deep into the skin of her cheeks. She was begging for her life. She uttered a scream when she felt the warmth of the candle light on her burning skin. She was relieved. She chose to ignore her weakness.

The needle that was piercing the skin, while entering the vein. Feeling the blood draining from her body. It was not enough. It never is enough. The knife was approaching her face. Her hands and legs were tied to the metal chair. The fabric was carving her skin. Two strong hands were gripping her shoulders, immobilizing her body. He was breathing heavily on her neck, forcing her to open her mouth. She felt a sharp pain in her neck; she coughed blood. Strands of her blue hair were scattered on the floor, mixed with her own blood. Her tips tasted of blood and the inside of her throat was aching. She chose to ignore her fear.

A shadow of what she used to be. A blurred picture in reverse. The burning flames reaching towards the sky. She was running to save herself. They did not make it. She could hear their screams from their bedroom. The wood cracked; the entire house cracked. The sound was deafening. She chose life.

The misty air was making her breathe with difficulty. Her heart was exhausted, both from the climbing, as well as from the lack of oxygen. She had the same thoughts in her mind; they were haunting her day and night. She was wondering whether she was hallucinating. She had reached a barbed wire fence. Instinctively, she grabbed her left wrist while resting her hands on her knees. She chose to forget.

The house lied in ruins for the past five years. Nobody dared crossing the fence, but her. She used to come here to write and listen to music. She found a shard of glass. The object still remains in her possession. She chose not to let go.  

Each picture in her mind has a story longing to be written on canvas.

Nu conteaza

Inca imi mai aduc aminte de gustul acela de scortisoara pe buzele mele.

Ziua aceea de vara din parcul mare. Totul era invaluit intr-o lumina galbena, prevestind o furtuna. Dar nu imi pasa. Eram fericita.

Tunelul cu graffitti in care am facut primii pasi.

O steluta albastra pe un perete.

Biscuiti cu fulgi de ciocolata delissimo pe o banca din piata muzeului.

Central.

Locul in care am facut moara pentru prima data.

Ceai negru cu caramel si miere.

Inghetata cu aroma de gomboti cu prune.

Berea si narghileaua din high life.

Taste the poetry.

Banca din fata cazinoului de pe eroilor.

Rasete.

Fericire.

Lacrimile pline de sinceritate.

Momentul in care le-am tinut prima oara in brate.

Noaptea in parc.

Linistea.

Sentimentul ca mai exista cineva EXACT ca si mine, ca nu sunt singura.

Biscuitii deliciosi cu zahar brun.

Drumul prin ploaie.

Discutiile.

Absolut.

Cirese si caise.

Scobura.

Zambetul amar al unui copil naiv.

Lucruri marunte care imi vor ramane mereu intiparite in minte.

Ca si cum totul s-a petrecut ieri.

The blue room

For a moment I thought it was all real.

The house seemed quite large; each room reminded me of something. The ceiling was out of reach, yet I felt suffocated. It all happened so fast that I didn’t even have time to grieve.

I was wondering through the rooms like I was a stranger. A mixture of enthusiasm and panic was overwhelming my body. I saw the shadow of my best friend from middle school. A fraction of a second she was there, then she was gone. Along with her disappearance I felt myself fading.

I went into the bathroom. A cold, blue room. I could see my breath as I exhaled. My hands were no longer pink. I tried holding my fingers still but a cold shiver passed through my entire body. As I watched my hands trembling I noticed that my knuckles turned blue. It was as if I had been suddenly bruised. But I did not feel a thing. I only felt that I wasn’t alone anymore. Fear was overwhelming me, yet I couldn’t look behind me. I could only stare at my reflection in the mirror. A little girl approached me, yet I couldn’t see her reflection in the mirror. I could only feet the soft touch of her white gown on my legs. Her eyes were stunningly blue and they were fixing me, while her blonde hair was beautifully framing her pale face. It seemed that she wanted to utter something, but no sound was coming out of her mouth. Her eyes reflected such a pure affliction that it seemed nobody could truly understand it. She was so young…

When I finally found the courage to look into her eyes my heart stopped beating. Her lips weren’t moving, yet I could clearly hear her voice in my head. Suddenly, a tiny and insignificant drop of blood started dripping from her forehead. In vain was I trying to wipe it because her skin seemed out of reach. The white sink was now filled with salty, red spots and the bleeding didn’t seem to be stopping. I tried to brush her hair off her face but I couldn’t grab a single strand of her hair. She was bleeding, yet I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Then something happened. The Laura everybody knew no longer existed.

I ran into the living room and tried talking to somebody, anybody. Everybody kept telling me that they were here beside me because they wanted to “help me”. I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. “I’m still alive. I’m here, aren’t I? Why can’t anybody see it?”. My hands were shaking as I was searching for my cigarettes. A hand stopped me from lighting it. “From now on you cannot smoke because the ember will unravel your identity”. “What identity? Apparently no one notices my presence, so why the fuck can’t I smoke?”. “The human eye is not trained to perceive such fast movements. Your body travels so fast that nobody can see you as you move. If you light a cigarette somebody might notice you and once you have joined our world there’s no turning back. You cannot go back to the way you were. Never again. And you are not allowed to be discovered”. “What the hell are you talking about?”. “You are in your house. This will be your home from now on. You may go anywhere you wish, but you cannot leave the house. You can see who you wish. I know who you wish to see. I know that you’ve waited a long time to see him”. “What are you talking about? How do you know?”. “All you have to do is think of him and you will be right next to him. You are allowed to look at him for as long as you please, but you must not touch him or try interacting with him in any other way”.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening to me. I wanted to see him, but not like this. I wanted to touch him, feel him and inhale the smell of his body. I couldn’t do this. I was trapped. I was trapped in my own mind.