Anywhere in Manhattan? Day IV.
There’s something inside me, I know now. Is Lorraine her real name? I don’t suppose so. She is taking care about the creature I am gestating inside. I can feel its little claws growing up, its teeth slowly sharpening… I recognize the room now, they tried to make a dream of reality… yes, they extract my blood… yes, they have a plan with me, they confused me first to give me a name before. Who am I? Where the hell am I? I’m not English and this language is not mine. I was a different man before, maybe I have a family somewhere, maybe not, but I am sure now I am not the doctor, I am not who they pretend me to be. I see now the marks on the wall and I remember the clock there. Was Lorraine the girl who slept me? I don’t suppose so, but I am sure she is part of the plan. I remember my mother’s face and her death now, but I am not sure if these memories are mine in fact or they are implementing me for some reason. She is in front of me; sometimes she took my face to check the temperature. Is your plan working fine, Lorraine? Is your game looking good? I cannot escape in these conditions, I cannot move now but I am beginning to understand the reality of things, the cruel game they are playing with my mind. The creature is sleeping now. I feel its breathe inside me, I feel its smooth movement and its slowly growth. I need to stand up and go to the bath, maybe if I look inside I can expel the creature from me.
‘Are you fine, John?’ I won’t answer you now, Lorraine. I am sleeping.
Germany. September. 2011
Doctor Mirror was excited for the strange day. He hasn’t received any photo or anything to recognize her. Anyway, he was intrigued but happy. Finally, she talked him about some kind of merging blood to induce some changes in the patient. He looked around the square and found her sitting on a chair, dressing a white dress and a young smile.
‘Nice to meet you, Doctor Mirror.’ She said. She was blonde and cute, like a model from a commercial TV. ‘Some colleagues of you were talking me about experts in blood and your name was always the first. You seem to be respected in your work.’
She was true, but mentions and prizes hadn’t made him happy.
‘What is the project about?’ He finally asked her. She tossed and smiled with the most impeccable smile he could ever see and she began to speak.
When she finished, he was convinced she was mad but, who can say no to a beautiful girl?
‘We can begin next week. Is it everything o.k.?’
‘We can begin next week,’ the doctor finally answered.
Written by Martin Cid: New delivery of his serial novel Fake Game:
**See the previous post in Yareah magazine