Nothing good to see

They said that the body was moved. i still feel it, but don't know exactly where it is. i start to walk around, feeling this thread that leads me to the body, hopefully. i notice the change of this feeling, when it becomes weaker, i stop and retrace my steps trying another route then, when it becomes stronger, i know to continue. It's pretty noticeable, like a sonar. i start walking the streets, playing this hot and cold game, and going round the buildings that come into my way. i feel it, closer, and closer.

i don't even have to try and follow it now, the sensation is so strong that i know exactly where to go to, and i continue walking until i arrive in front of a church. Not too far from, the apartment. It's the church we go t…they go to. i enter through the church's gate, and go towards the small wooden house, that lays to the lateral of the big, stone church.

In the small house, that's where my body is. i go to the window and look through a small corner where the paper got unstuck from. i can see it, the body sleeping in the open coffin. i get through the wall, and turn around to stick the corner of the paper back to the window. Nobody can see inside this house now.

The body was laying in a wooden coffin, placed on a wooden table, and covered with a white sheet. i get closer and pull the sheet off. It looks, kind of better, wearing a black suit, well taken care of, but with the same gravely pale skin. As if he didn't die, but his life was simply sucked out of him.

i cover the body with the sheet and sit down. i look around the room, but there isn't much to see…but i catch something moving out of the corner of my eye. i turn to that spot, it really is something moving, a shadow, and it's moving constantly. i can't figure out what it is, but it looks like a human.

i get up, slowly and a little bent, to keep the table between me and whatever is that owns that shadow. i pull out the compass, and head slowly towards the shadow, lighting ahead with my arm fully extent. With each step, i see more and more of what is, a human silhouette. i get near it and see that it really is a man, an old man that's sleeping on a chair, covered with a dirty, old jacket.

Relieved, i go back near the coffin and lay down on a side, under the table. Maybe this time i'll fall asleep. There isn't any light inside, all blocked by the papers stuck on the window. It's darkness, deep and full of hidings, but that i'm not alone in here, gives me comfort and makes me feel safe. But i'm not comfortable at all, it's hard this cement, even if i don't feel it on my skin, the rigidity of it, is extremely uncomfortable for my body's position. i take a little while until i find my position, which is on my back, how i don't like to sleep at all. i'll stay awake, until i discover another position as comfortable as this one. i close my eyes.

 *

But i don't keep them close much, because a small tremble wakes me from my numbness. i start shaking, my whole body, and with it, the table and the earth. The corner of the paper falls again, and through the window, a strange light comes in, stronger than the moon, or any streetlights that could've been out there. i get out of the small wooden house, and see how far away, a mountain starts growing, from the ground, up to the sky. A mountain that doesn't stop rising, and the earth could barely resist this transformation.

It looks far far away, but it's big enough to be seen clearly, even if it seems hundred of kilometres away. i can't actually approximate the distance at all. The mountain stops, reached a height that overpasses the clouds by much. But it doesn't look like a mountain, it hasn't the base thicker than the tip. It has the exact same width at the base and beyond the clouds, like a tower. And from that thick, wider than the Bucharest city, tower, a lot of powerful and colourful lights, are projected everywhere. And with those lights, i can finally observe how tall is actually the tower, and i don't see its top.

It doesn't seem to have an end. i can't see its end. i start running, towards the tower, but no matter how much i'd run, i don't feel i'm getting the least closer. It must be somewhere outside the city or… i'm not stopping from this sprint, i know i can run without end, so i do.

With each of my steps, i feel a shake, of the earth, as if i'd be causing it, with each step i make. i stop and crouch down to feel the ground with my hands. There are shocks, like some small earthquakes, short, but very strong. At first, i thought it must be the subway, but there is no subway in this area, and it doesn't feel like one. And they seem, these shocks, to be very deep, and gradually getting closer. And they rise in intensity, and power, and once they get closer, not just the ground seems to be affected, but also the buildings around.

A strong one hits, and shakes the whole world, and with this shock, i start feeling my body lighter. Like a feather. i float, and observe all the cars how they take off the ground, and float too. The earth starts breaking into pieces, and huge chunks of asphalt, mud, houses and buildings, start rising in the air. There is no more gravity. The tower lights suddenly like a sun, powerful and so blinding, and i, with everything around me, are suddenly attracted towards the tower at an insane speed, until we crash violently into it.

 *

A loud noise, something broke. i wake up. i dreamt again.

"With care you idiot! Look at what you've done."

"Sorry boss. They won't notice anyway, it's on the back of it."

"C'mon, let's just get it faster in the church until someone arrives and sees it."

It's my coffin. They dropped it on the ground, and the back of the coffin cracked, enough to notice it. i can see the white sheet from inside, through the crack. Through the door comes in the light, strong enough to make my eyes squint, even if i'm under the table. It's full day, maybe end of morning.

i managed to sleep, i think, quite a lot. But i dreamt more than slept, and i didn't needed that, not a physical sleep full of dreams, but one for my psych. A deep sleep, without any dreams at all. i don't feel any more rested than before, but neither more tired. i'm just, consumed by the dream. i ran a lot towards the tower. And the time wasn't passing while i was running, it was still, as if i also was running in place, only the strong shock got me out of the loop. Running towards that tower…

i don't know. That tower… What's with it? i dreamt it coming out of Brașov mountains, the old woman said something about it. About Darkness, she wants to rebuild the tower. She built another one before? Where am i supposed to find this information? The answers to my questions? i need to find out more. Things keep happening around me, i have a connection with all these, but know nothing yet.

i get up and out of the small wooden house. Outside, the sun was closer to the middle of the sky than the horizon. The phone shows it's a little past 10. i climb the stairs of the church and enter it. It somehow feels like a blasphemy to go inside but…i'm dead, i saw no god, there is no god, just an empty little stone house, with a cross and bell on top of it. And so many paintings inside.

It seems i'm the first to enter the doors of the church, i go and sit on a chair on the side, and i wait. The two men come in after me, with the coffin between them, and try to carry it towards the altar. The two of them get it up, above the table, and suddenly let it drop. These animals, i'd like to just grab their heads and…

i notice all these eyes, these saints and gods looking at me, like watchful guardians, i stop the ugly train of thoughts. i look at the coffin, it's not covered. i can see the face of the body. They chose to have a ceremony with open casket? It seems strange to me. It all seems strange. Having my body, there, exposed, for everybody to look at, however they want, and without judgement.

In the church, there's this everlasting traffic of old women coming and going. i see them going to each icon, kissing it, noticing the coffin with me inside, shaking their heads in resignation, and get out. They're probably thinking at how young i died. It's not like i hadn't lived enough, but it could've been a little longer.

The church is small and seems very old, but i'm impressed with the icons, and the paintings, on the walls and ceiling. Especially the inside of the steeples. The paintings look so detailed and lively, even if they look old. i don't think i was in a church since i was a child. i don't even remember the last time i entered a church, but it probably was still this one.

The place is beautiful, rustic, suitable to hold a funeral. It makes me believe i went back in time, a few hundreds of years, when traditions where all that was truth, and nothing else could contest that. i haven't believed in something in years. In someone. Simply because i couldn't believe in something that couldn't affect me in any way, even if i believed or not. i did believe, when i was younger, much younger, and then i stopped believing, without being influenced by someone or something. i observed that it made no difference to believe or not believe, so i kept not believing since i made that change.

But now i believe, in something that i read in an old book. Just some words that described their religion, their cult, but i believe, every single word of it, because of what i saw until now.

But this makes me wonder, if the people that believed in christianity, or the ones that wrote the bible, saw too all those things they wrote, and if so, maybe they were just a bunch of lunatics. Right? This was my logic until now. Maybe they really saw those things they wrote in the bible, the same way i saw and heard, all the incredible things since the dreams. If i considered them crazy, for so many years, what am i?

Have i gone crazy? Am i dead now?

The doors of the church open, and through them come my parents. Dressed in black, sad. Crying, like some actors on a theatre set. Now, they are in front of the spotlights. They aren't showing their real behaviour. Their real selves. Immediately after them, more members of my family come in, my aunt, cousins. The uncle with his family comes next. And other relatives and family friends, that i know just by the looks. They all sit on the chairs that are placed in front of the casket. Short time after that, Matt and Sarah enter too. Both sad. Sarah was silently crying.

The priest goes in front of the coffin, in front of all the people gathered here, and he opens his mouth to talk, just so he could close it back up, interrupted by George. The doors close and the ceremony begins. George sits on a chair, looking down, listening. i go up to the front, at the altar, near the priest and the coffin.

From here, i can see all their faces. All the important people from my life, people i cared for, that cared for me. Tears covering their true selves, forming masks on their faces. There were only black masks in front of me. But i could see clearly now, i can see behind their masks. i can see who they really are. i have darkness on my side, and night will unshackle them from these masks, and will set them free, naked, wild, in front of me, the true selves. It makes me sick, seeing them this way.

i turn my head and look at the priest. He's right near me, my breathing should touch his cheek, i see how he scratches it. Who knows, what such a religious man like him, thinks he feels right now. It would be so amusing to shove him, or take the book he so devotedly reads from, and throw it away.

"You're here in vain. Don't you see who you're speaking to? Don't you see the people in front of you? They don't care at all. But what do i say, you don't care either…you just loudly read something from an old book, and then you take your money. You sell lies. That's what you do."

i get down from the podium, and start walking around the public, inspecting masks, to see which are of better quality. i hear someone wailing, and it riles me, i recognize it immediately. i go back to the first row, and crouch in front of my parents. i look at my mother, she can barely hold her emotions. She uses sadness to cover them, to cover her anger and rage and hatred towards me.

"You don't fool anyone! Or…at least you don't fool me…"

The priest sets the book on the stand, and starts sprinkling holy water everywhere while singing something… i look at my father, he's static, he's staring off into space, expressionless, no sentiment can be deciphered off him.

"Can't you even pretend? Don't i deserve at least that?!"

i get up on my feet and back off, no, no i can't, it's too…i turn back to him and spit on his face. i can see it dripping down his face. At the same time, the priest was also throwing holy water on him, he's wiping his face and then crosses himself.

"You're just some pieces of trash!"

i get out. i light a cigarette and turn back to the church, house full of lies and fake sentiments, that doesn't do more than steal the money of those who are desperate. A whorehouse. i don't want to stand near those people. The cigarette falls off my hand. i bend down, grab it, and when i get up, i drop it again. i can't hold it, i don't have…my hand is…my whole body is shaking. i can't even breathe normally, i pant. i'm in such a rage. i feel like going back inside, and gutting everyone open. i want to rip off the masks they're wearing, and their faces with them, i want to rip the meat off, to get to the bones and crush them! i want to…!

"Yes! Go! Nobody will ever know. Not even god! Go inside the church and kill them all, take each one of them and steal from them, with your own hands, the life they don't deserve!"

"They're just trash!"

"They're trash!"

i climb the stairs in a sprint and stop just before the door.

"Get in there!"

"No…! No. They don't deserve…they don't even deserve my rage. It's not worth it, they're not worth it enough for me to…care. i don't care, anymore."

"Finally, you're free, liberated from your old body, and all its connections with those animals. you're free!"

i get out another cigarette and light it up. i can't believe how enraged i was, i can't believe what thoughts i had. And i so much wanted to, and almost did act on them…

"How you mean there are no more nails?"

"We ran out of yesterday, I wanted to go buy some, but I forgot."

"Idiot!"

"I'm sorry."

On my right, at the stairs, i see the two that carried my coffin. The older one, the one that slept with me in the little old wood house, the one that forgot the nails, receives a slap on the face from the other one. The old one loses his balance, but remains on his feet.

"Drunk idiot, what are we going to do now?!"

He slaps his face again, this time harder. The old man almost falls down, he starts apologizing and walking backwards as the younger one chases him in slaps.

"Where are we going to find nails now?!"

He slaps him again.

"Tonight you'll sleep back on the streets!"

Another slap.

"If you still look for a way to consume your rage…"

The young man grabs the older one by the shoulder and takes him to the gate where he pushes him, and then takes a position to kick him. He doesn't get to lay the foot on the old man that i grab him, and turn him towards me. my mind is empty of anything but one thought, all i want to do right now, is to hurt him. i land a fast and heavy hook onto his face. The fist connected to the chin and the young man fell down 3 meters further, and down he stayed. i wanted to pounce on him, and continue raining punches over his face, but he's completely out. i should've hit lighter, to have something to continue on.

The old man saw it all, he saw the younger one's head going suddenly in a direction, and the body following the same direction. He's scared, he kneels down and starts crossing himself repeatedly. After he stops, he goes to the knocked-out one and tries to help him.

"He doesn't deserve your help."

i go to the nearest bench and sit down. Smoking. It's quiet now. Complete silence reigns over me. i can't hear anything anymore, nature sounds, cars passing by, the rustling of the leaves. Not even the murmur from the church, or the priest's voice. i feel like i lost my hearing. But it feels good. i see a man getting out of the church, he tries to get the old man's attention, making signs. i look at the old man, he drops down the knocked-out one, and climbs quickly on the church's ladder.

And then suddenly, i hear the deafening bells of the church. The loud noises give me something similar to headaches, i try to cover my ears but it changes nothing. It's a sound that penetrates the skull, and hits right in the middle of the brain, which leaves echoes running around inside my head. The church reader gets out of the church, he's looking for the old man.

The old man gets down the ladder and sees the reader, the old man runs to him. The reader opens his mouth and talks with the old man. They're saying stuff, a little verbal fight, but i can't hear yet, because of the bell's echoes. The old man is scared, but he shakes his head affirmatively and runs to the fence. i look back at the reader, he just now noticed the knocked-out one laying on the ground, mad, he turns back to the old man. He lets some other words out of his mouth, and then points to the knocked-out one.

The bells continue to hit my eardrums, even if the old man isn't pulling the rope anymore, their echoes still go on throughout my head. i try to grind my teeth, to make some noise, to hear something, anything else than the bells. i look at the steeple, the bell is barely moving, the pigeons started to gather back under the bell, only i am still disturbed by this bell.

The reader and the old man, both are carrying the knocked-out man. One holding him by the feet and the other by the underarms, they carry him up to me, and sit him down on the bench, right near me. The reader turns to the old man, but the old man talks first.

"…that's what happened, I tell you, he just suddenly fell off his feet."

"Leave it for me to solve this. Go get the nails, and go in to close the coffin when Popa asks you."

The old man goes to the fence while the church reader analyses the knocked-out one. He puts his hand under the sleeping beauty's nose to check if he's breathing, he's breathing. The church reader pulls the cap over the knocked one's face.

"Yeah, good job, you sure solved it."

The reader looks around and then goes back in the church. i get up from the bench, i take a closer look at the collapsed man, and i place my foot on his chest. i lean forward, very close to him, pressing hard on his chest, and giving him small spasms. i take off his hat, his head falls back with the mouth wide open. i take a smoke and then flick the cigarette in his mouth, filling it with ash. i take another smoke, and put out the cigarette on his tongue. And then i leave him like that, like he's an ashtray. i make a step back and push him with the foot, he falls off the bench.

i leave the ashtray be, and enter the church. i want to see what the animals have to say about me. i've missed the majority of the people, but i got just in time to listen to what my parents have to say. They both were standing near the coffin. Father was staying at the feet, on a side, looking at the body just from the corner of his eye. Mother got close to it, wasn't afraid to touch it, check if the hair is looking good, if the costume is neat.

"you wanted to become a writer. But you left too early to see yourself living the dream."

The woman bursts into crying, she then tries to hold it in and takes a big brown envelope, of A4 size, which seemed filled with hundred of pages. She places the envelope under the hands of the body. What an idiot. This must be it, the envelope that the publisher sent to me. my book. They could've made some money out of it, but better to be there, in the dead's arms, and far away from them to profit out of it. They don't deserve it. i get closer to the body and inspect the envelope. It says on the envelope's face that, …it's very good…but the story has an inconsistency, or something feels like it's miss…

"What fucking inconsistency can it have, i wrote it, i know it by heart, and there isn't any problem with the story."

And there's another thing written separated: 'For more details and the surprise, check inside.' It's probably the contract, or the decision to publish my book. And my parents, instead of opening the envelope and going to the publishing house, they throw it here, along with me. That's it, that's life, anyway, they deserve to live on the streets. The book is better with me. i want to take it but…everybody is watching the body, and if i just touch it, it will disappear instantly. i don't feel like creating chaos right now.

The old man enters the church with a hammer, and a fistful of old rusty nails. He goes with the church reader and they place the coffin lid on, covering the body. Then they nail it down. People are starting to gather outside. The coffin is raised and taken to the hearse. In the front of the hearse, get in the priest and the reader. The other people follow the car on foot. i also get in the hearse, in the back, near the coffin.

Through the back window i can watch all the lowered eyes of the family and friends. i hate this view. i light another cigarette.

The road to the cemetery isn't long. The car stops a few times before each bigger intersection, where the priest gets out and says a few ceremonial words, and in short time we arrive at the cemetery. There, the hole already dug was waiting for me. The back door opens, and the coffin is pulled out and carried to the hole. i also get out of the car and follow the coffin, from a distance far enough to not have anybody around me. i throw away the cigarette and light another one. i observe everything quietly.

The priest says some more holy words. The mother strains heavily for some more tears. The public throws each a hand of dirt over me. The coffin is lowered even lower. The burial vault is covered with three cement slabs. And the grave is refilled. Everybody then leaves. To another corner of the cemetery.

i follow them from the distance. i usually find funerals, in films and real life too, to be happening only on rainy days. But my funeral is taking place under a scorching sun. They stop at a canopy of vine leaves, under which are prepared two long tables, full of food and vine bottles. Everybody sits at the tables, and talk, and prepare to eat. But before, the priest goes at the top of each table, and blesses each table.

Of all the people that sit at the table, i notice someone's missing. Sarah. i look around but don't see her under the canopy, or on the way here. Did she left already? i didn't saw how she got the news. How she's handling…everything. If she's…

i go back to my grave, after a little detour, as i forgot where it was, on my walk i see two silhouettes. i get closer. i see Sarah, hugging Matt. They are coming now towards the canopy. Holding hands… When they reach the canopy, they get some distance between themselves and sit at different tables, acting like nothing is happening. As if they barely know each other.

"Mmmmm. What do you think is happening between these two?"

"It's not worth it! It's not worth it…for me to worry too much…"

As if from pure will i empty my mind completely, just before the storm of thoughts was about to start. And i focus so that i keep this nothingness in my mind. i leave. i get out of the cemetery, pull out a cigarette, light it up, and start walking. Don't know where. Don't know whither. Just walk. Far. i don't know where to start my searches from, about me, about the organization. But now, something else holds my attention. i'm only thinking about the book, and the message on the envelope.

my story could have an inconsistency…but i have to check first. i go back to my grave. i kneel down before it, and put my head through the ground, then my hands, and pull myself down until i reach the coffin. i pass my hand through the coffin and grab the book, and i raise my head, and start swimming towards the surface, until my head pops out.

"…I'm sorry for coming here…and asking you this kind of thing…so…freaking fast, but we…but we're both suffering gravely. And I can't…I can't…I just can't…"

"We want to know…if it's…we…we want your blessing, but…"

What is this?

i turn my head and see Sarah and Matt holding hands. They were both standing, in front of my grave, with their heads lowered, grieving faces. Holding hands. Tearing up. Looking down, trying to avoid their gazes, but they are looking straight down, straight at me, nothing is avoided in the end. They are holding hands…

i get up, out of the grave, and look at both of them. They're standing, on their feet, on my grave, two meters away from my body, and i'm here, up here, looking at them, holding their hands. i realize something, for the first time, and it's not that i died, no, this is something else, that i realize now. i realize that i'm dead, for them.

i tried to keep the storm at bay, to focus on that nothingness. i failed. A sound, of something that is cracking, disturbs my internal quiet and calm. A rupture that is followed by an inundation of thoughts. i wouldn't describe these thoughts that flood my mind as being bad, but as being pure evil.

"What?! You want to fuck my girlfriend? After, i, helped you. i, saved you. If i didn't came after you, you piece of shit, you would've been burnt, dead!"

"Now should we wait…for a sign or something?"

Sarah laughs.

"Ah…i see you're funny…these last days all you wanted to do was to kill yourself, you were sad, depressed. Now you crack jokes and fuck my girlfriend. You want a sign?! i'll show you a sign!"

i raise my fist and throw it with all my might towards Matt's face. And at the very last moment, i let my hand soften and pass right through his head. i didn't touch him…he doesn't deserve, but Sarah…

"No! You can't fuck my Sarah!"

i kick the heavy marble cross and it tilts suddenly, almost falling. i get down off my grave and leave. i turn my head once more while walking away, to see what they're doing. They haven't moved a muscle. They're scared. i should've hit… i should kill him. Without any thought, i should right now go to that piece of shit, grab his throat, and drag him down with me, into my grave.

Black. Black everything. Mind. Thoughts. Intentions. me. i try to remove this blackness. i can't…i just have to let it consume itself…let it consume me…