Notebook (Short Story – Part 2)

Heavy thunder broke into his dream, scattered its beauty like broken glass, and he woke up. Rolling his eyes in the surrounding darkness, he couldn’t but wait to get used to it.

It wasn’t raining!

If it wasn’t raining, then, where did that thunder come from?

Was it really thunder? Or was it a roar? But he lives high in this building that no roar of any wild animal can be heard…

He closed his eyes trying to go back to sleep, but something that squeezed his heart made his eyes scream as wide as a wild sea. Then, it went back to normal after a heavy exhale, making his heart play its beats again. His body trembled endlessly, his lips shivered with the speed of a dying man and his fists became as solid as rocks.

It was everything in him that turned solid. He still felt the blood running through every bit of his shivering body. At that thought, everything went back to normal. He is relaxed again and his eyes are so heavy that he can fall asleep in a few seconds.

He roughly shook his head, kicking away the weight that invaded his eyelashes. He doesn’t want to go back to sleep with the pain he is holding within right now. It doesn’t hurt him, but he feels its presence, he feels the pain. Or maybe it wasn’t pain, it was some kind of agony getting back at him every now and then.

With those thoughts playing the strings of his mind, he got up, scrubbed his heavy head with his hands and pulled a tissue from the side of his bed to wipe some sweat drops on his forehead. It was weird anyway, he never had such thick sweat before, he thought, but maybe those drops get thicker as his thoughts get heavier.

He walked toward the toilet, turned on the lights and headed to the sink for a quick wash. Stretched his hand to the tap, and stopped with a shock. His whole body froze for a few seconds.

It was blood on his hands. That red slow liquid on his hands must definitely be blood. Where did it come from now and he just woke up?

Looking up at the mirror, the fear that portrayed his face now is replaced with terror. One side of his face is covered with blood, just like an eclipse caused by a bloody sun. He turned on the tap and started to each his face and hands. The pouring water turned red and the white sink is now pointed with pink spots. He washed his face quickly and got closer to the mirror. His face was still the same, not a single wound.

Where did that blood come from? He shook his head again, this time kicking away the heavy thoughts that crashed his brain.

He turned off the lights and went back to bed. He must have been dreaming or probably hallucinating. His face is clear and totally free of any scratch. “What’s happening to me?” He mumbled with an agonized cry and closed his eyes thinking of an end. An end to something, anything! Maybe, the end of his constant rigid feelings, or maybe, his life.

And the heavy thunder broke into his dream again tearing apart his tender eyelids.

He opened his eyes and listened carefully. Will that thunder strike again? His pupils ran on every side of his eyes as if trying to catch something in darkness. It wasn’t thunder this time, he was sure. It was a heavy sound, a loud sound, but it was in his head.

He raised his hand up to his face and a warm drop fell off to his lips. It startled him at first, but then it tasted like iron. It was blood again. On his hand, again. He jumped in no time to his bathroom, turned on the lights and checked his face out in the mirror. No blood on the face, but only on the hand. He started washing his hand, cleaning all the running blood.

He examined his hand thoroughly. The Palm was clean, but the tips of his fingers were torn apart, creaked at the top like a line connected on every fingertip. It was a knife cut, but how did this cut happen?

Thunder stroke again… No! Wait, it was a heavy squeak blowing in his head. It was a painful one. Another squeak stroke and his arms hurt like fire. He took off his shirt only to be shocked with what he saw. His arms were creaked from the shoulder to the tips of each finger. It was like his body became dry and started to fall apart. He could see his own bones within these wounds.

Right at that moment, blood exploded out of his wounds like a fountain, splashing the blood drops around him. He put his hands on his arms to block the blood from popping outside, only to make it worse. The blood popped out of his fingers as well. He was losing blood rapidly that he became dizzy and fell down to the ground.

His head hit the ground and thunder stroke harder another time. It was met by a harder squeak in his head. He screamed so loud and with his voice coming out, his teeth fell out of his mouth. The sound of his teeth hitting the solid ground under him hurt his ears as needles hurt the skin.

He screamed again, louder and louder until his scream was interrupted by blood coming out of his mouth. He was losing so much blood, he must call an ambulance.

To be continued…

4 thoughts on “Notebook (Short Story – Part 2)

اترك رد

إملأ الحقول أدناه بالمعلومات المناسبة أو إضغط على إحدى الأيقونات لتسجيل الدخول:

شعار وردبرس.كوم

أنت تعلق بإستخدام حساب WordPress.com. تسجيل خروج   /  تغيير )

Google+ photo

أنت تعلق بإستخدام حساب Google+. تسجيل خروج   /  تغيير )

صورة تويتر

أنت تعلق بإستخدام حساب Twitter. تسجيل خروج   /  تغيير )

Facebook photo

أنت تعلق بإستخدام حساب Facebook. تسجيل خروج   /  تغيير )

w

Connecting to %s