وائل يكتب

A police officer inspecting a room with a floor floating with pink water and numerous tiny bits of burnt papers.

An old man looking cautiously at the police office when all of a sudden the officer turned to the old man and asked for a reminder of what happened.

“There were so much screaming and sounds of pain in the room. Me and the lady outside went out of our houses at the screaming sounds in the room and came knocking on the door. When there was no response to our knocks, I started to break in. “ The old man declared.

“And what did you find when you broke in?” The officer interrupted the old man.

“It was a total mess in here. Blood all over the floor, water spraying around from the roof, papers burning and a pair of boots in the middle of the room. We searched the whole room and we couldn’t find the young man. Maybe we were hallucinating when we heard the screaming, but this mess??!” The old man answered.

“Hallucinating, huh? And the blood just sprout out of the cobble???” The officer mocked the old man.

“Sir, I’m just telling you what happened with us. I am not making anything up, officer.” The old man objected.

“Oh, well, you are old, and that is enough for me. Supposedly, the young man will show up after all to clean his own mess. Get out please and keep an eye in the future.” The officer turned away from the old man and left the room.

The old man looked slyly at the leaving officer, went to the door and locked it firmly. He took off his slippers, put them on the wooden desk and started humming a soft melody while waving his hands in the air with the melody.

The melody stopped, “And you thought I would never help you, my friend” the old man mumbled slowly while sprinting to a corner of the room, moved the little dry plant away and removed the top of a steal sewer.

Suddenly all the blood that turned into pink water and the burnt pieces of the notebook ran magically to the sewer opening and started to pour in.

“There you go… Have a nice life, my friend.”

To be continued…

Hardly crawling out of the bathroom, he had to recline on his elbows for his hands turned powerless. It was blood all over the ground. He was swimming in his own blood when he realized that his crawling is peeling his skin off. He looked back to see some skin of his arms and legs floating on the pool that was feeding on his blood.

He cried. He cried so hard that he fainted after a few moments and a few tears…

It was dark when he woke up again. Pain was roaming all over his body, a pain that was more like fire burning him from the inside. He wanted to scream, to call for help, but his voice abandoned him long time ago. He choked on the word “help” and despair overwhelmed him directly.

He pulled the strings of his strength from every inch of his body to crawl out of the bathroom. It hurt him so much but the desire to get out and seek help made him endure the severe pain. He kept on crawling, he didn’t even stop to check the hair that was falling off his head now. Hair didn’t matter now, breathing mattered more.

He crawled harder and harder to reach his small desk in his room. He tried to stand up but failed at the first attempt. He cried. He started to hit the bottom of his desk until a notebook fell down on his head, pulling his ear off. At the sight of his ear right next to him, he went on a frenzy and started to scream and hitting his desk harder and harder. His pack of cigarettes and lighter fell off to the ground in front of him. What the heck should he do with a pack of cigarettes?

Thunder stroke again and a harder squeak came along to meet a sever pain in his legs. It felt like they were burning. “Burning”, the word came to him like a crystal drop of water after a long time thirst. And he knew what to do for help.

He grabbed his lighter from the ground with what’s left of his right hand and grabbed his notebook with the remaining strength and bones of his left hand. He took a deep breath and within his pain, he found strength to light up his lighter. He moved his lighter enough to reach the notebook to burn it. The smoke must trigger the fire alarm and someone, anyone would come to his help.

The damned notebook burned slowly as his pain was growing rapidly. Desperation crawled to his body and mind and he started to faint. Then, suddenly, the fire alarm went on and started to scream for his aid. His consciousness was fully back now as water  sprayed all over the room while he enjoyed the voices yelling at his door. But his pain was severe that he couldn’t but check his legs. His pain was not even as severe as the terror he felt at what he saw. The spraying water was melting his body.

He started to scream as people outside were trying to break the door to get in. His legs are gone now, his screams are getting lower now, and it is his waist now that was melting. He cried again, screamed, and cried again and again. Why can’t they just break the door and get in before he is completely gone?

He was losing hope when he turned to look at his door for the last time.

The door was finally broken, and then it was moving open when darkness conquered his eyes and he was all gone…

*****

Somewhere, in a place where no one walks at night, a dark ally, at the first right turn in the street, had a lamp that barely works with a very low light . It has always been hanging on the wall of the facing building.

That dark ally had a moderate sewer opening, with a barred top on it. The opening was making weird sounds, creepy sounds mixed with some pain and a lot of agony.

It was exactly the middd of the night when some pink water started to spurt out of the opening until the whole ally floor was soaked with this pink water accompanied with the usual creepy sound and a huge amount of tiny bits of burnt papers. When the water flow stopped, sudden silence conquered the place, and then nothing happened.

At dawn, sun-rays started to occupy the place, blowing darkness away. Sun-rays hit the wall, and with the sun slowly moving toward the middle of the sky, the rays went down to hit the floor. At this moment, the odd pink water turned into clear colorless water while the pink color was crawling to the center of the ally. Clear water went dry and pink turned to bloody red as the burnt pieces of the notebook were gathering next to the blood pool.

No one was there to witness the blood that started to become thicker and taking the shape of a human body. It kept on acting this way until it completely transformed into a human body with flesh and bones.

The naked man on the floor opened his eyes slowly. Light hit his eyes hard as no eyelashes existed yet. He felt cold and lonely, but happy and relieved. He doesn’t remember anything, he doesn’t know anything, he only knows that this old notebook with the burnt edges next to him actually belongs to him and will always be with him as long as he is alive.

And there, right there, at the end of the ally, a new pair of boots rested peacefully, awaiting the new comer to walk a new path in a new life.

The End

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…