questions which should not have answers. [story part 3]

January 9, 2012 § 2 Comments


November 17, – around sundown.

Do you ever have that feeling – immediately after asking a question – that you shouldn’t have done that? That you don’t really want to know the answer. That you’d be better off without it – or – scared of it, you just don’t want to know and don’t care about the consequences.

I know I did – several times in my life – but that evening was just a déjà vu over the last few times I did. With each and every question I felt I was going down the wrong path more and more. And the scariest part was that, under any other circumstance, I wouldn’t have believed any of the answers. But words coming from that particular mouth seemed to stay in my head.

Just immediately after asking Regina where is she from and she telling me that she’s not from any particular place – which seemed odd enough – I figured I would just leave it at that, seeing as she doesn’t really want to talk about herself. Plus, I really wanted to head home but not before figuring out what did I do so wrong that someone wanted me dead. So I fired away:

“Who are your friends?” I asked.
“The ones that hit you in the head you mean?” – She replied quickly.

“Uhm… yes. Do you know them? What did I do wrong, to them, or anyone else?” I added.

“I’m going to tell you something, which you won’t understand, but then again, you don’t need to. This is an answer, and it’s the best one I could offer. It makes me feel good for answering, but I don’t really care if you understand or not.” – Regina said this in such a cold and serious tone that it stuck to me like instant glue. Her eyes were fixed on the window, not me, pupils dilated like she just had the biggest dose of dope, her mouth forming a straight line and her expression cold like a winter morning.

“What you did wrong is the fact that you were born.” – I was speechless.
“Look, me and my friends… we’re just visiting the town. Visited actually, they are gone now. They… uhm…” – She trailed, stopped for a second and looked at me.

“I don’t want to lie to you, I owe you that much.” – She took another swing at it and started again – “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were kind of not themselves and… things got too rough.”

“Why were they growling and hissing at me? I thought there’s a pack of wolves after me – there are no wolves here anyway but still…”

“You remember that?” She interrupted.

“Yes, I also remember you shouting No in German, how many languages do you speak anyway?”

“I…” She didn’t want to really answer.

“I don’t wanna know. I just…” I trailed off and mustered more courage to keep this conversation up.

“Look, they knew you were not dead but decided to put you there anyway, just in case.”

“No, you tried stopping them. And you came back and let me out of that crypt.”

“Yes, I did, but I usually don’t. I only did because you looked happy, and I could tell you were going to school, and I guess memories of past times came over me – I remember how happy I was at your age, happy I would see all my friends once again, and my…”

“You have a boyfriend I guess.”

“No… I loved. Once. But…” She trailed off. She kind of seemed to do that a lot.

“I don’t… Don’t wanna go into that.” She added.

“OK Regina, I feel this is somehow really hard for you… It’s like you’re not used to speaking with people. I… really… don’t want to spook you. Listen, I …” – I started shivering, I was still really cold and I remember how the shower managed to warm me up for a bit but then I went into another wave of shivering. What was wrong with me, why was I so cold – and still dizzy and my vision all hazy.

She saw me being cold and immediately hugged me – that was a surprise – I mean, this was already too much for me to take in. Missing home for 3 days, being buried in a crypt, being hit in the head… man that was something.

By how I remember it – this is how it went – I felt she was really, really, really – I can’t say really enough times to describe this – hot. As in warm. As in really warm. I loved it. A heater couldn’t be enough, she was.

It was like staying in a cold room for a long time and then suddenly walking out in the hot summer sun and feeling that sweet, sweet heat all around your body.

Next thing I remember is I woke up the next morning with bangs on my (hotel) door, the sun was shining on my face and it was pretty warm – I remembered Regina. I jumped out of the bed and headed straight for the door. I felt someone will take it down if I didn’t open that second. I also realized Regina was nowhere to be seen – I hoped she locked herself out and I was opening the door for her just about now. – It was the police.

I was almost naked – they saw me and entered the room without asking. In the chatter, I remember them almost yelling at me, something about me being stupid for staying in a hotel and my parents thinking I was dead. Something about blood in the forest.

Blood. In the forest?! It couldn’t have been me I thought. I touched my head and I felt a small scar… hmmm. Maybe.

Then they told me to get dressed. I ran into the bathroom to get dressed and there, on the toilet seat (odd place for a note if you ask me) I found a tiny note.

I called your parents. Please don’t tell them what happened.
I hope you’ll forgive me.

Please have a happy life. For me.

R.

Well that seemed pretty dramatic for me. I took the note, threw it in the toilet (now I realized what was with the placement) and thought nothing about it except the fact that she seemed worried when writing the note, almost as in she knew she’s going to die. “Please have a happy life, for me.” – What was that all about? She could have a happy life for her, herself.

Also, I’ve never seen such beautiful handwriting. It was like the handwriting I had seen in the old manuscripts in the high school library, and the school archive which I tried to break in once, and succeeded, but then decided to burn it down. Don’t ask. Many of them (manuscripts from the library, not archive) dating back to the 16th century or older.

The letters had a delicate touch, with sides of them being more bold than others, long tails for each letter and it seemed big – bigger than normal.

I usually write like how you see here on the blog – even in handwriting, I have a writing that resembles computer – mechanical – standardized if you wish. Not cursive.
But these letters, man they were something else.

The “R” at the end was really delicate and flamboyant, it was like she had spent hours – hell I couldn’t do it in days – writing this note.

All these thoughts came over me in under 10 seconds and before I knew it I was out of the bathroom and in the police car going home.
The police didn’t really bother asking me what happened – I just told them I felt like missing home for a couple of days and so I did.

My parents didn’t really believe me, I wasn’t really the type to leave home, I had everything I wanted. We were, financially, somewhere between rich and middle class, not too much, but not little. Big house, parents were liberal –  I could do whatever I wanted – whenever I wanted. I had my own car already, even if I didn’t have a driver’s license yet. I could throw parties anytime. We had a pool, a separate guest house and everything your heart could desire. Life was good. So they didn’t understand, especially because I was really happy, not because of all the things I had, I was always a happy kid, since I can remember, nothing could really take me down easily.

The day was almost over before I knew it. I had missed my room – my room was a big 19th century style room – really high ceiling, a big four poster bed with a red velvet cloth over it, was in the middle of the room at the time and was also the center piece of the whole room. I had a nice old French armoire which I had received as a present from my family, I loved old things and they knew it.

I had a nice camel skin rug with irregular edges, which spanned in the front of my bed and in one corner I had a free standing mirror which was about my size, if just a notch bigger.

I had three types of curtains, depending on my mood and the weather. The first ones were transparent, for spring mornings, when you want to feel the sun as much as you can but you still need that curtains otherwise it would feel empty. The second pair of curtains were blood-red, which were only pulled down during winter days, when the ski was gray, it gave a nice reddish tint to the whole room, made it feel warmer somehow. Alas, the last pair of curtains were made out of a heavy deep blue velvet, which were pulled down when you wanted complete darkness in the room.

I didn’t have anything else in the room except a big trunk at the end of the bed and the fireplace. I had everything I needed right there. I loved old things and old style rooms and the only thing that I really wanted extra and didn’t get already was a painted ceiling. Meh…

I remembered the cold feel of the crypt for a second and dismissed it quickly enough – I was a strong boy – so what if I was buried there? I could think of at least three different worse things that had happened to me.

For one, I had leukemia when I was one year old. My mom always told me I was a little miracle. I survived through leukemia with little to no treatment except blood transfusions. She had told me I received so much blood that she thought I was about to burst open every second and yet  I didn’t. Also, I couldn’t stand chemotherapy. The first shot I got I started having really bad allergic reactions and the doctors told her that I was going to die. They couldn’t fathom the idea of being cured without chemotherapy – the one cure that I was allergic to. And yet, I got cured, by myself – well not really. It took me 6 months in a hospital. I was only for 3 days in a crypt so that was a fluke.

By the time I was with my head on my pillow I was already thinking about Regina again. Where was she? Was she ok? Why did she leave? Oh she was so beautiful. I just wish I could talk with her for a little bit before falling asleep… I could have used that warmth of hers right now… I dozed of for what seemed 1 minute for me.

Instead, I woke up to light touches on the window. It sounded like ice rain. It couldn’t be, it doesn’t usually happen in November. However, I decided to push away the curtain and look. I also looked at the clock. I remember it was past 2, although not sure by how much.

When I pulled the curtains open, I froze. Speechless. I was scared, happy, amazed and baffled – in the same time. Overwhelmed in one word.
I quickly opened the really simple lock which my window had. “What.. How… D.. How did you climb up here?” – My window is not that high, it’s on the first floor – but I remember it was really hard even for me to climb – I had tried it once – but for a girl?

Then I remembered – she worked out. Yeah, like that’s gonna help with climbing this window.

“So I take it you’re not happy to see me?” – She responded instead.
“Are you kidding me? I thought I’ll never seen you again.” I replied quickly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I left like that. I’m also sorry that I couldn’t get away like the note said. I’m… I usually don’t do this.”

“I sure hope so.” – I said.

“No, I mean, there’s something really different about you – I can’t put my finger on it – but it just makes me want to see you again.” She said, which made me a bit too full of myself.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” She added in-between the lines.

“I’m sorry. Come in.” – I smiled.

“What so funny?” – She asked.

“It’s just that I never invited someone to come in – through my window.”

Silence.

In one move she climbed down the window, jumped on the floor with absolutely no sound. That was amazing. I thought of ninjas.
I didn’t even had time to get some clothes on me. I was only in my shorts and I was shivering again.
However, she was pretty thin clothed herself but didn’t seem to mind. In another cat-ninja-like move, she came close to me, pushed me on the bed with a really strong arm and leaned over me if just by a bit, just standing there looking down. Through me.

I wasn’t really sure of what was going on, it felt intimate of sorts, which was weird enough, seeing that she was the one that actually tried to kill me – she laid herself down on the bed next to me. We looked at each other without saying anything and kissed her like I have never kissed someone in my life, I couldn’t help it. She jumped on top of me and continued kissing me and then, with several moves, so carefully conducted, and very well aligned, like in a well thought out dance, so good that it almost seemed like one move – she slid behind me then she was on top of me again, but make no mistake, I was face down in the bed this time, she was on top of my back, like the roles had just been switched in a very weird turn of events.

But she did.

She took my arms, both of them, in one of her arms, I remember she was so strong that I gave up on trying to move my arms, and she laid herself on top of me, her mouth was on my ear, I could feel her breath more and more the back of my head.

I remember thinking this was the most ridiculous thing I have ever done in my life – And I’d had my fair share of really ridiculous and stupid things – but by golly, this felt good in some weird way. I heard a loud hiss behind my back – felt a really warm breath on the back of my head again and then – unable to turn around – I wasn’t even sure I wanted to – I felt a deep sharp pain in the right side of my neck and in the same time, I almost let out a hard squeak like a girl. It felt painful, yet amazingly good and soothing. It was arousing yet peaceful in the same way, the kind of a mixed feeling you rarely have. It made the room spin all around me and I was in heaven.

I didn’t pay much attention to the bite – not when it was feeling so, SO good. I can remember even  now everything that went on, vividly, like reliving it over and over again. I get aroused and dreamy just at the thought of it. It was the rough, peaceful, scary, beautiful, weird and one of the most pleasuring experience in my entire life.

I enjoyed the pain in the neck, but then, I’ve been bitted by friends or others in a playful manner, and it was just that, a short bite, however, this bite wasn’t going away. I concentrated on the pain and could feel her teeth sunk deeply in my neck. Deep, deep down in my neck. I could feel the blood flowing out of my neck, I could hear her swallowing and panting, I could feel her left arm holding my arms tighter and tighter and her right arm was now pushing hard, down on my back, as in trying to hold me from escaping.

I felt panic and I wanted to start moving around and getting her off me but by the time I actually tried doing anything I felt her releasing and I relaxed…

I immediately put my hand on my neck and felt two small teeth marks on my neck and felt warm blood all over my neck, dripping on the bed linings. I turned my head in a violent move to look at her – I wanted to kiss her – I wasn’t really worried about the neck wound – girls had bitten me before – although none that hard – nothing came even close to make me bleed – not even mentioning drinking it.

However, I was still feeling the aftershocks of the bite.

When I yanked my head and turned around, I looked at her and instead of seeing that beautiful milky white face and those big black eyes, and her soft mouth with her tiny but perfectly shaped lips – I saw pure terror.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and I immediately wanted to go back into “my” crypt. And stay there. Forever.

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§ 2 Responses to questions which should not have answers. [story part 3]

  • Anonymous says:

    I really don’t know what to thinl.Like I thought about what to write because I feel the need to write something.If you really exist.YOU.Not some person creating a personality then I hope I will meet you some day.I’m so fascinated by your writing.You just seem so different.Like a person I’m always looking for.I just want to go under the surface of this world.I believe in a lot but maybe just because I can’t acceppt reality.This message isn’t a bit as deep sounding as I would have wanted it to be.But English is not my native language so I guess thats why.Or maybe I’m not capable of writing down my thoughts in a beautiful way like you are able to.

  • Anonymous says:

    I’m a very open minded person, and so far I haven’t found anything contradictory. If everything I’ve read so far is true, then people are really blind.

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