MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL - INTERNAL MONOLOGUE - DRAFTED MEMORIES (WATERFALL OF TIME)

I am a rag-doll sitting on a bedroom floor, my wire just snapped and my legs fell apart below me. I don't know should I answer a call coming from another room or not. Everything in this moment has such a higher meaning, and everything in me is falling, falling because a reality hit those marbled walls and now they are crushing down on me. I know one day this will be just another ripple in a distorted surface on a waterfall of time, separating me from this world to which I don't belong.

Honey - a male voice was calling me - Come! - after a short pause - Is everything ok..?

Yeah, I'm fine - I screamed back - I tripped that's all... I will be in a minute, wait.

Minute?
It looked more like a century.

When you dip one toe, the whole body just drops through the time's wormhole. It sucks you down, grinds you in pieces and leaves you in tears...

I don't have any photographic material of that place, or of any place where I lived before, just some vague fragmented memories. And that lack, of anything palpable and material, constantly reminds me day after day, that those are not my memories, they are theirs, and from time to time it feels like I have never existed.

I can't even say that I clearly remember those remaining fragments because there is something between me and them.
I have no access.

There was a time, in the past, that I could remember, I am sure of it, I wrote it all down, and even today I know every detail.
But, at some point I had to go back to all those writings, read them all over again, just to find out that I am not a person who wrote them.

I remember vaguely making a call, I remember vaguely answering it, but I don't remember what happened in between.
I can't be both of those people, can't I?

Do you believe in angels...

I just wanted to get rid of that screaming abomination, I knew that was just some part of me that I imprisoned, drowned and never let to live. I was slowly becoming a demon I found ages ago, I chained it in the oblivion, I fooled him with false promises, and he was living in me for so long there was no more a limit or barrier to separate us. I just wanted that other part out, but with that other part gone, I was gone too. In an exchange for anyone, for anything, for any soul, that chance, luck or universal justice may toss at me from the other side.

It should never gained a form. I asked for a person on a brink of complete resignation from the life itself. Anybody. A person standing on a cliff, with no salvation, with nothing to live for, with nothing to lose.

Who would know?

And the next morning when everything was over, I couldn't remember half of it. It was me, but it was not. Who are you; a mirror was not talking to me like it was yesterday.

Why the colors look so bright?

How much of him has stayed, how much of me has left - I would say... too much of him.

Is it that one thing, that set me free from whatever was sharing my soul with me, that lucky bastard who got an ultimate joyride to immortality?

Or was he that perfect one the whole time?

It is never just one of our bodies that walks the path. These things are intervened - me, that creature, a man. Always two in, and one out. That's when we are all safe. Please don't die. It is not only a one to live as a one, as a whole, as a singular form - we are all mixed up, fragmented, taken away, and brought back, like some cruel joke, but nobody is laughing. Aw, they will not be laughing...

It doesn't matter if you die. You can't save them. I'm playing with your mind, do you know that?

And now, I don't know what happened, but some invisible wall separates me and all of that, and all emotion is fading, dispersing. It is like I am looking into that picture of my own past through a big barrier of water, and water is falling back up in a sky, endlessly like a waterfall.

And with this water between me and that, all of it stops to be, I don't feel it anymore.
I know everything is circulating, the circles of turmoil and pain back into and through one another, chasing each other endlessly through the time, blaming and accusing on every step of a way - It is not my fault!

It is not the time, it is not me, it is not that I forgot because I refuse to remember the wholeness of monstrosities and horrors poured like a river of blood and silent screams into this pathetic world.

How much did you held the last time? How much a time before it? And before it?

I can't contain it, isolate it. They will always find a way and some umbilical reason to tamper with stuff and slowly... it is just matter of time.

I wobbled out of my internal hell crawling up from the bedroom floor, emerging under the tone of emotional rubble, feeling all dizzy, but yet with the still and calm face I entered the kitchen.

Dear Lord! - a voice shocked me right at the entrance - What happened to you!? - my concerned, caring husband welcomed me with a surprised expression on his face - Are you ill? - he felt my forehead - Do you have a fever? You are so pale...

I was feeling bad and I was feeling halfway down to a blackout, but I simply replied - I am fine. Just... my blood pressure is probably low today. Hugs!! - I propped myself on my toes into his embrace.

Did you eat anything? - he asked letting me go after a short welcome and putting his gear out of a way - You didn't cook anything today?

No - I answered - I didn't really feel cookin' ...-
Well, that's no good. - He said - You can't go like that...

Can't I? Well, maybe I can't. But... if it's really up to me, can we just make some scrambled eggs?

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Published parts of a story on Steemit:

Chapters:

Manic Pixie Dream Girl - The Last Low
Manic Pixie Dream Girl - Bambi Slayer
Manic Pixie Dream Girl - Jinx on Fire
Manic Pixie Dream Girl - Fry
Manic Pixie Dream Girl- Dead of the Night (C)
Manic Pixie Dream Girl - Dollhouse

Short Reviews:

INTRODUCTION TO A STORY - MPDG - SUBMERGING UNDER THE INNATE MIND AND BUILDING WITHIN THE CONSTRUCT OF SELF

Image source Pixabay CC0 Creative Commons

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Thank you for reading and visiting my blog!

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