Category: False Memories

False Memories (Part 4)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

DISCLAIMER: the events and the characters mentioned in this story are the product of the author’s imagination


I woke up in the middle of the night, full of unease. I checked the time: it was 3 am. I fell back on the pillow, but my nerves were strangely strained, so I couldn’t relax. Something was off all the time: the pillow was uncomfortable, my heart was pounding loudly, I heard muffled noises and movements behind the walls and the door. The very air was filled with a menacing presence. 

First, I tried to calm myself down, to promise myself to visit the psychiatrist – it didn’t matter how angry I was at Desi, maybe she was right. I must do something with my rich imagination because it was out of bounds to the extent it wasn’t safe for me… I shut my eyelids firmly with an intent to fall back asleep and tried to steady my breath and feel the heaviness of my body, though still, everything about this quiet, moonlit room was disturbing. I felt as if someone was watching me, observing carefully, hatefully, hungrily… I pulled the blanket overhead, trying to drape myself in the warm darkness, to lull my thoughts, to trick my tired brain back into sleeping. Instead, I caught myself concentrating on the leaves I left at my friend’s kitchen, my thoughts instantly full of crimson and gold. Next, I was fixed at how she drummed with her fingers on the table when I asked for her opinion. I suddenly became infuriated at Desi all over again: she never actually knew me! That girl pretended to be some kind of guru when it came to people, but she never saw their true essence. Her constant gossiping is built of classifying, labeling and judging. Why did I even go for Desi’s help if all she knew about me was her assumptions and conjectures? People called that “friendship”? Seriously?!

Continue reading “False Memories (Part 4)” →
15

False Memories (Part 3)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 4

DISCLAIMER: the events and the characters mentioned in this story are the product of the author’s imagination

Three weeks had passed since the moment I had this dream. On the surface, life went on as usual: the unchanging routine, the same duties, the repeated actions at a constant pace and at an invariable time. I escaped from the mundane reality on my lonely immersive walks accompanied by music; I needed these shots of euphoria and freedom to keep myself from slipping into insanity, yet I was pretty close to it: drowning deeper and deeper in the bottomless sea of darkness, day after day, hour after hour, second after second.

First and foremost, I had these dreams full of eerie, unsettling, and absolutely obscene scenes. Seriously, I think that no one in their sane mind could dream of something that disturbing, definitely not unless they had watched a pile of sick, deviant horrors right before falling asleep. The worst thing about them was that they were very vivid, very personal, like memories.

Every night, I dreamed or perhaps even participated in deeds that went beyond the forbidden, but there was a touch of ancient mystery to that. What is more, something instinctive, dark, and almost primal filled these rituals. The fact that those things were acceptable in the wild made them innate and sacred for us.

Continue reading “False Memories (Part 3)” →
5

False Memories (Part 2)

Part 1
Part 3
Part 4

DISCLAIMER: the events and the characters mentioned in this story are the product of the author’s imagination

And all of a sudden, the alarm went off. I was so astonished I sat up straight in an instant, looking around with incredulity: I was home! Could it all have been just a vivid nightmare then? Somehow, I seriously doubted that. I didn’t remember going to sleep; quite the opposite, I could perfectly recall every bitter detail of yesterday’s quarrel. I sneezed – exactly. I also had no doubts that I was drenched by rain while parading the night streets in shorts and unzipped. Still, I was in my bed, in pajamas, my yesterday’s clothes hanging on the chairs’ back. 

In addition to all that, I got a splitting headache. The light – even this murky tender morning light which happens only right before dawn – seemed to be dazzling. I was completely disoriented. I stood up with a moan, and the whole world became blurred and shaky. Besides, my feet were still in pain. I sat down again.

The light was a problem here; I knew that it somehow affected the way I feel, so I decided to pull down the curtains and think. My eyesight was distorted; I couldn’t look directly at any object: my headache immediately returned magnified one thousand times. So I closed my eyes and started retracing yesterday’s walk, or rather my escape from home. 

First and foremost – we quarreled. Two adult sisters living together is… hm, a challenging task. If only we had enough money and the place we could go we’d leave each other immediately. But as for now, we had neither choice, nor sources. 

We were so different: She and I. Martha was brave and charismatic, always the center of attention. The awareness of that made Her addicted to the admiration of the crowd. My Sister spent all Her time on social media, impressing the public with retouched selfies and generated quotes, forgetting that these were fabricated lies that had little to do with her real self.

Continue reading “False Memories (Part 2)” →
3

False Memories (Part 1)

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

DISCLAIMER: the events and the characters mentioned in this story are the product of the author’s imagination

I guess it all began the moment I slammed the door loudly, causing the tiny rivers and streams of stone dust and chalk to run down onto the floor. I quickly scrutinized the tiny crevices and cracks around the doorframe – eternal remnants of my mood swings and our bitter quarrels… I ran down the steps diving into the silver moonlight that stole all the colors of this world except for black and white… 

I could discern the catlike silhouettes in the silver slits of windows. All the voices from different flats were mixed and united in one preaching chorus, and all the graffities and scribbles that casually adorned the staircase during the day now were turned into magical patterns and figures. Like cavemen, we continue on and on to mark our achievements, wishes and feelings, etching them deep into the wall.

The entrance door swung open, welcoming the wet, damp wind to fill the darkness. A few rare cool drops of rain fell on my face, mingling and mixing with tears, calming me, reviving and suddenly filling everything with a sense of hope again. I went out, looking up at the sky and breathing deeply, trying to regain composure. My jacket was unzipped carelessly, my strides were long and bold… It was an attempt to become one with the wind, one with the coming storm, to cast off all formalities, reject the laws of physics, and fly over the earth in elemental fury.

A burning array of yellow windows was outlined brightly against the gray carcasses of the buildings, almost indiscernible in the surrounding darkness… I wish I could say the same about the drunken crowd of people, who were shouting and cursing loudly, while checking out the surroundings with an immense hunger for destruction. So I halted for a moment, praying to become invisible. 

Continue reading “False Memories (Part 1)” →
12

Website Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑