Paranoiac (7 page)

As a kid I was
never allowed to swim in the pool. My parents were either throwing
pool parties or too lazy to supervise me. I swam in it maybe a
handful of times as a preteen but as soon as my mom was diagnosed,
my dad forbade it. When my mom got sick, my dad made up so many
bullshit excuses and rules, always saying it was for my own
good.

Eventually
when she was too drained to travel, my dad gave her a choice of
where she wanted to live. She ultimately decided on this gaudy
place. It didn’t matter that this house was far away from any
emergency rooms or hospitals, she loved the heat and the privacy,
even if she couldn’t leave the house. Dad would always fly in
practitioners and specialists. He would spend a small fortune to
keep her alive with all sorts of medical wonders and machines. I
know it’s terribly selfish of me to feel this way but her being
sick stunted my life. It was all about her, all about him and never
about me. I was so neglected, starved for affection and friends and
I wouldn’t have it till I ran away to college. Even though her
death crushed me I was so relieved, I was free. And ultimately I
was finally able to get away from him.

Journal Entry Eleven

The patio was
covered by a plaster ceiling that extended from the sunroom. It was
equipped with a large, stainless-steel, propane fueled grill, a
bulky ceiling fan and numerous stereo speakers suspended in the
corners. Even though my parents and their friends had eclectic
tastes, they preferred classic rock music over classical
pompousness. The ceiling fan was spinning lazily, the pull chains
flopping with its motion. Shivers ran up my spine and for the first
time I realized my teeth were chattering.

Running over
to the door of the sunroom, I was blinded by the flood lights,
triggered the motion sensor. I hoped that the door was unlocked and
twisted the knob with success. The moment I passed through the
threshold a bright flash of lightning struck somewhere in the
distance. As soon as I saw that pure white flash of electricity my
surroundings were replaced with visions of sweet, amorous Molly. I
tried to block the images of here petite face. In futility, I tried
focusing on that sensual rumbling of the thunderous aftershock, but
her smile kept piercing its' way through the veil.

I couldn’t
deny it anymore, my mental barrier was crumbling to pieces and I
couldn’t stop myself from picking at the scabs. That black haired
siren and her hypnotic eyes, piercing with a preternatural
luminescence of emerald. I didn’t want to remember and I don’t know
why. All I can recall is that I loved her with all of my
heart.

I can remember
the sound of her adorable laughter, her milky pale skin, and the
way she played with her hair. In a flickering memory, I caught the
motion of her putting her hair in her mouth, turning her head
slightly and playfully. But I don’t know why I loved her or how I
know so much about her. Everything felt foggy and unfocused when it
came to her. I knew she was here and that it was her beat up car
leaking in the driveway. My instincts told me I should just let her
go, push her away and move on. I just wanted to forget and forget
and forget.

Suddenly, my
stomach erupted with a growling hunger. I couldn’t tell if I was
shivering from the cold or shaking from hunger. Walking further
into the dark sunroom, barely any light was coming in from the
patio. My wet boots squeaked on the polished concrete floor and my
hand searched the walls blindly for a light switch, easily finding
one. For once I struck gold with luck and found myself in the
houses other kitchen. Unlike the trashed kitchen I found earlier,
this one was immaculate. The countertops were of black marble and
they glinted softly from the low wattage bulbs.

Led by my
rumbling stomach I glided to the stainless-steel fridge, running my
hands across the smooth, cherry wood cabinets. The fluorescent
light brightened my face as I swiftly pulled the door open. I could
have died right then and there. The fridge was fully stocked.
Piggishly I began gnawing anything I could get my hands on, which
was mostly junk. Choking on a half chewed bite of an apple, I
grabbed a beer and quickly imbibed half of it to force it all down.
Greedily I snatched a few more beers, another apple, some cheese
and sliced turkey meat normally just used for sandwiches. Sitting
on the cold counter top, I chugged the rest of my beer. I figured I
could cut out the bread for my sandwich and just replace it with a
nice crisp beer. “Beer is pretty much bread, right?” I said to
myself, popping open another beer and shoving more food into my
mouth. Usually I hated beer, I preferred a cider or just straight
up liquor. But this beer, right now and in this specific moment,
was the best part of it all. I enjoyed it even though I was soaked
from head to toe and shivering from the icy rain. Finishing my
second beer and opening a third, I sat hunched on the counter with
my eyes closed just listening to the rain.

Thunder was
booming every few minutes and the rain was pouring relentlessly. I
absolutely loved the rain, it was the most relaxing thing I could
think of.. This was the best moment I’ve had since waking up here.
I took solace in the dimly lit kitchen and the mess I had made of
it. The counters were covered in wrappers, empty beer bottles and
crumbs from my make-shift feast. I knew this tiny, pathetic moment
wouldn’t last long and so did my stomach.

My intestines
cramped and twisted in my gut with such violence that I doubled
over. I jumped off the counter and ran for the bathroom that was
tucked away in a back corridor of the kitchen, slipping as I
reached for the door. I didn’t even bother shutting the door before
relieving myself. I sat on the toilet, shaking with my head
in-between my knees cursing every beer and piece of junk I shoved
into my mouth. I had foolishly tried to eat like a ravenous
teenager but with the drawback of having a stomach of a thirty year
old. I finished my business, cleaned up and looked up to see that
the mirror above the tiny sink was shattered.

Tiny of
fractal versions of myself were looking back at me. I was as pale
as Molly and almost as pale as the man in my dreams. Standing there
for a moment, I waited for my stomach to calm, not wanting to move
too far from the bathroom. I traced my fingers on the broken cracks
in the mirror, hypnotized by all of the fragmented dimensions it
withheld. “Mirror, mirror on this wall. Who is this man that wants
me to fall?” I said as my whispering voice echoed in the tiny
bathroom. Tracing my fingers across the glass one more time just in
case it wanted to answer me, I soon decided to move on.

Journal Entry Twelve

It was near
impossible to stop thinking about Molly and I wasn’t ready to tread
through the rain. I slowly and pointlessly cleaned the kitchen,
wishing for another change of clothes. They hung awkward and heavy
around my body, too wet for them to dry quickly. I thought about
putting them in the oven but chickened out at the last minute. I’d
rather walk around wet and cold than naked, wet and cold. Soon, I
ran out of chores and just leaned against the counter, staring at
the irritated, scabbing cuts on my forearms. I couldn’t help but
feel anxious over the damaged cars. Because of the note, I knew one
of them belonged to Molly, but I had no idea who’s SUV that was or
who shattered its' window. All I knew was someone wasn’t going to
be happy with me. Then again I could always blame it on the storm.
I could only hope the rain had washed away the crimson
evidence.

Everything
that happened last night was still a fuzzy blur. The only thing I
could recall was Molly, and barely. I knew she was here because of
her car and I could remember what she looked like. Although,
strangely, I felt like I was head over heels for her. Every time
her name leaked into my mind it gave me a warm feeling. I knew we
had a long history but I kept shutting my mind to her out of some
strange fear.

I rested my
arms on the cool, black marble counter and tried to force myself to
remember her. Closing my eyes I repeated her name over and over
again. Every time I whispered the name flashes of her face
thundered underneath my eyelids. My head began to throb with pain
and my ears started to ache with a high pitched noise. I slid down
on to the floor, my back to the cabinets and kept repeating the
name. After every compulsive utterance the throbbing pain and high
pitched noise only worsened. I persevered with fists clenched while
fragments of her face flashed and flickered in my mind. The pain
kept getting worse and worse. I gasped for air in a panic trying to
catch my breath. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see and the humming
ring was getting unbearable.

Then in an
instant it was all gone, disappearing with a loud popping noise. It
was if I had broken through this invisible barrier and from the
cracks leaked the memories that I’ve spent years trying to push
back. I rested my head on the counter behind me and I slipped into
a foggy dream-like state. It was just like before, I was watching
my memories as if they were being projected all around
me.

I was sitting
in a class, I was eighteen and she was twenty. We were sitting
together but only because our stuffy, controlling professor
assigned our seats. It was our Early European History class and she
was copying answers from my paper for our assignment. It was, of
course, due today although it was assigned a week ago but that was
Molly for you. Then the memory and my surroundings vanished as fast
as they came.

I could still
feel myself sitting on the ground and the cabinet pressing into my
head but there was nothing but an empty void around me. The memory
was gone and I wanted more. If I have known her for that long, why
do I keep trying to push her existence out of my mind? Why is my
subconscious working against me?

Focusing
harder, I pushed further past that now weakened barrier. I started
to repeat her name again until fragmented memories flashed and
projected all around the void. They were mostly random
conversations but nothing else. All of this chaos was leaving me
frustrated and queasy. I just needed to make sense of all of this
randomness.

I pulled my
knees to my chest and rested my head on them. Slowly, I was loosing
sense of up and down in this black void. It was difficult even to
tell if this was all real or in my twisted head. I wanted to cry
but not because I was sad. It was like I was regressing in age,
like I was this sensitive newborn trying to understand the world.
“Get a grip of yourself and focus on Molly,” I said to myself
weakly, running my hands through my wet hair. I still felt cold and
wet but I pushed those thoughts away as if I could tangibly swat at
them.

“
Molly, Molly, Molly!” I started to repeat again until I felt
this strange warm tingling through my body. It started at my core
and slowly spread to my fingers and toes. I started to feel myself
sinking downwards. All these different colors and voices began to
blur past me, softly slipping into something very soft, and warm. I
smelled the scent of cheap cigarettes, and heard the awful 90’s
music and could over hear at least a dozen out-of-synch
conversations. Finally, when I opened my eyes I was sitting next to
her and she was smiling that beautiful smile.

It was so
strange, all of my other memories leading up to this had been in
almost a third person view. Yet this was as if I was reliving this
sliver of my past through my own eyes, my own body, sensations and
all. We were a few years older, out of college and at a party. We
both sat on a dog-legged couch, surrounded by other party goers.
She rested drunk and comfortable on the couch tediously complaining
about her relationship problems. I had my legs propped up on a
glass coffee table, peeling the label off of my hard cider, a drink
that I loved to death in my twenties and on into my
thirties.

“
Trey was so pissed off when Jenny asked if they could be in an
open relationship. After she told him he basically stomped away. He
we was acting like she just broke up with him,” She slurred, very
intoxicated. I looked over at her and smiled. For the first time
realized that I was as drunk off my ass as Molly had
been.

“
I
could NEVER be in an open relationship, I’d get so jealous. I don’t
care how liberating and empowering Jenny says it would be!” She
said only stopping to sip on her disgusting light beer. Molly
always gossiped when she was drunk. It was a little unbecoming now
that I’m seeing this all over again.