Paris. About fifteen years before Day I
Deep forest. I remember when I was inside, mom. I remember when I was under zero, under nothing, inside, very inside you. I was able to hear you, even in your deepest dream. Breathe strong, breathe fast and slow but breathe, just continue breathing, my baby. I asked you for help… it was in a deep forest, in the longest dream. I lost my life, little Alex, I lost the ways to find the truth. There’s no escaping cave in our lost dream, there’s no life beyond this dream. You are now in the surgery, mom… and you are deeply slept. Your decision will sign my dead and that decision will sign your fall too. I can’t do it, my son, I can’t. Where’s my father? He’s dead. For any strange reason, I didn’t fall, I didn’t die then. For any reason, I am still here, Alex. What’s the relationship between you and me? I can smell your blood and it’s not mine; I can smell your fear and it’s not yours. I could feel your trembling heart before your fear and your future remorse. Is it enough? It’s not. It’s not. It’s not enough, mom, not enough for and for us… and what about him? You spoke with him and you told him everything. Do you know he is going to write our story? Why doesn’t I have my father’s eyes? Why not his voice in my head? Why would I be able to grow and cry and fall like you? Did you decide for me? Not enough, mom, not enough with remorse, not enough with crying. I won’t leave you, my mom, my dear mom… I won’t leave you to go and I will be here, in your dreams, growing like a strange creature waiting again for you, Lorraine. Where should I spend eternity, mom? Would you be able to hide from me? May anybody hide from a dream? I’m the flu that fills you… I’m the flu that lives inside you; I’m the flu that will live forever.
**Fake Game, serial novel by Martin Cid. 1st. chapter. http://yareah.com/?p=1846