Through there and here – Final Part

I instinctively put my hand in my pocket to wipe out my phone, you know, to take pictures for the ‘gram, but I didn’t found it.

One of the guys who were on top of the car with me jumped to the floor, and the car roof crumbled under my feet.

Once again, it felt like my heart skipped a beat, I closed my eyes, waiting for a painful landing or a new space-time travel. It was the latter, and thanks God! I was back home, on my couch, with Proust’s book on my lap. It felt like I had just woken up from a dream.

I took a few seconds to check around me, to see if I was back in my time. My closed laptop on the kitchen counter confirmed to me that I was home.

I decided, like you would have probably done too, to check the internet and see if this had happened to someone else before, even hoped for a collective space-time travel experience, it would have been very interesting to see how peoples would have reacted to that, and if their perceptions of the world had changed for them like it changed for me.

But I had no result… Excepted for the few story about time-traveller’s talking about coming from the future to warn us about incoming doom and Armageddon.

This is why I took the opportunity to write about my experiences and share it with you.

I honestly don’t want to travel again, I’m not an adventurous guy, but damn, the world seems way more interesting and beautiful, but also versatile and violent that I’d previously thought.

If something like that happened to you too, write me!

It’s been an hour and a half and nothing have happened. Whatever I’ve experienced, a glitch in the matrix, an alien thing, seems to have stop.

Now, believe me or not. But I’ll tell you, sometimes, the world seems dull, but there’s magic, there so many things to live and experience. I think I might start dreaming about a better future again… and even acting for one !

So, that’s a goodbye. And I’m happy. Just happy. I don’t need help anymore.

The end

Jaskiers

Publicité

An Ode To A Fast Car (Tracy Chapman Inspired Text.)

I was just a boy before I’ve met you.

I remember our first day as lover. In you flat, with your friend, I often felt out of place many times in my life but you made me fell welcome. This wasn’t easy for me to spend the day with you, at first I thought it would be. I was wrong, simply wrong. There is thing in life that doesn’t need explaining, like that feeling I had with you. If I could describe it, I would say that your love was my home. I haven’t had to force myself into playing a role, I was just myself. In fact, a better self, you had this effect on me, the only thing in the world that cured me from my mental illness, my demons, my fears, my sins. No need of pills or chemical treatment with you… well no, in fact, love do a weird chemical thing in our brain, that lead to happiness.

So there I was, with you and your friends, that were about to leave and all I could think about, is the night, our first night we would spend together. I was anxious for the night, but also looking forward to seeing another side of your love. I hoped I would enough for you.

We both talked about living with each other, so early in a relationship. The wise men say « fools rush in » and we were fools, but full of hope and of love.

That first day, we managed to visit some flat to live together. We hadn’t had much money, being together under a roof was already luxury for us.

Remember, that dusty old flat that we visited. With those creepy neighbors, telling us about how awful it was to leave there. We knew we wouldn’t leave there, but that feeling of a maybe, a future, together was so strong that we visited another flat. Same as before, we couldn’t say it was a roof that we would have above our head.

Then, a friend of yours wanted to see you, you and your new boyfriend. I was fine with it, as long as I was with you.

She started looking for trouble in the thrift shop we were in and we decided to leave her alone, in her mess.

We ran like fools, you with your high heels, your arm tucked under mine. I let you decide our escape route, we couldn’t stop laughing at the simple thought of your friend finding out we left her alone, with a pissed off shopkeeper.

And then, two straits dogs came toward us. They just looked at us and ran away. It was a sign to me, you, a dog, a home and that all I needed.

How could have we thought life would have kept us together? Happiness, some say, come at a cost. What do we had to pay?

I was in the light with you, I was ready to get up, no, better, rise up for you.

How could have I known that the car would not stop? How could I have known that somehow, this random car would take you away from me forever?

How can I live with your scream of agony, for mercy, for help, forever roaming in my mind?

I don’t thing about retaliation nor justice.

My soul wanders in the dark now, until we meet again.

Sorry wouldn’t be a word that you would have like for me to say to you.

I will hold on to your memory, your love, your light that I will search all my life.

Never, ever, I’m sure, I will meet someone like you.

But I know, deep down or high up, there is a place waiting for us both, and not a miserable flat.

We could call it heaven, if being with you is what’s waiting for me at the end of my road.

Jaskiers

Just Another Haunted Hotel Room Story – FINAL

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

The pack of cigarettes is still here, untouched.

«- Is this a fucking nightmare once again?!»

He tense up, waiting for something to happen. A couple of minutes passed without something happening excepted for a dull silent.

Jack look at the ceiling, the smoke stain looked like a rabbit, like the first time he entered the room.

«- That’s… the fucking sign!»

He waited another five minutes. Nothing.

With a little bit of anxiety, he looked back again at the ceiling, still the same rabbit form.

The author fell asleep without noticing it. The fire alarm woke him up.

«- This is a nightmare! You’ll not foul me this time!»

A knock on the door and the voice of the young hotel clerk rose along the horrible alarm noise:

«- Mister, you have to exit the room, we have a fire here!

• Ah! You stupid motherfucker!
• Sir please! This is not a drill! Come out quickly!
• Yeah! And the giant snake is as long as my cock!
• What… this is not a joke! Yes, ladies and gentleman, leave through those stairs and gather to the front desk!
• Is my fucking bitch of a wife here by any chance?
• No! Sir, come on quick!
• Of course, that’s definitely what’s a liar would say!
• I can open the door for you and then, you’ll have to make a run for it!»

Jack was smelling the fire and started feeling the heat.

«- Very elaborate nightmares! You fucking… I don’t have words for this shit! And I’m a writer! »

The door opened and the young man passed his head through the doorway:

«- Ok, now I will leave, you better get the hell out of here! Because it’s gonna be… well, hell ! Come on sire, I’m leaving. If you stay well… God have mercy on your soul!

• Fuck off! Let me alone Sonia! Where are you dumb bitch! Come on! Make this nightmare end already! Or make it more original! Jesus! A fire? How creative!»

The only answer was the fire swallowing the wall in front of him, making the same noise as the wind during a storm with cracking sounds added to it.

Jack took his notebook to write about the aesthetics of the fire when he noticed the pack of cigarettes untouched. He looked at the ceiling to see the smoke mark looking like a rabbit being devoured by flames.

This was real.

«- Fuck me! Jack you stupid fool!»

He took his notebook, let his trousers and grabbed his laptop, that was about to be destroyed, not without burning is hand.

As he ran outside, the roof started falling and he would have been a dead man if the hotel clerk didn’t grabbed him and pushed him toward the stairs.

After joining the other clients gathered in choc in front of the desk, Jack coughed, his lungs were suffocating him.

Red and blue lights flashed on the tired and anxious faces.

«- Sorry kid, had a weird nightmare and thought that… y’know.

• Well, it’s probably more than a nightmare that you had. You probably sleepwalked, you are the one who started the fire!
• What are you on about!
• I saw you using a deodorant and a lighter and running around yelling non-sens words!
• What? No!
• I saw you too you crazy asshole! Said an old lady.
• I… no! It’s a dream! You are my bitchy wife aren’t you! »

Jack punched the aged women in the face. The patrons restrained him until police arrive and took him to the nearest mental hospital.

Today, Jack still thinks that he is stuck in a nightmare. His goal is to go back to that hotel room to wake up.

The only problem, the hotel doesn’t exist anymore. In fact, it was an abandoned motel.

Jack was found by the police half-naked, screaming and yelling, alone in front of the burning abandoned building.

Jaskiers

P.S. : JOYEUX NOËL À VOUS TOUS !

Just Another Haunted Hotel Room Story – Part 3

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

The need for a smoke came back stronger than ever before since he stopped smoking. He needed to blow off some steam.

Once again, he had to face this inner demon of temptation. After all, just one, to cool off. But this is the cliché excuse to get back to smoking.

He took a glass of water instead, risking drinking it from the sink, with those terrible drought that had been hitting California recently, there was a risk of infection drinking water from the tap. But, this was better to drink a potentially cancerous glass of liquid than to definitely inhale cancer right into his body.

He laid back in the bed, looking at the spot on the celling. He couldn’t see anymore animals in it. This was proof that his brain was tired.

Dosing off once again, he fell into a dream, a nightmare in fact.

He was back in the fancy hallway of the Monclar Hotel in Colorado. Alone, he could hear a scream, a women scream along with terrifying scritching noises.

The hallway was well lit by a big crystal chandelier hanging from the roof to a few inches above the floor. Jack T. was almost blinded by the flashing crystals lights marking his sight with purple spots on his retina.

He tried to yell his wife name, Clara, because the screams he could hear sounded like her voice. But the only sound coming out off his mouth was an animal like groaning. The more he tried to yell, the more the groaning was loud and disturbing. When he decided to put his hand in front of his eyes to stop the light from burning them, he realised that his hands had became those of a beast.

Long and thin fingers, with long and thick black nails, his skin was covered in dense black fur.

By reflex, he took a glance at his lower body part but nothing had changed.

He tried to move around, going up the set of stairs on his right, the one that leaded to his room. He moved pretty fast. Too fast even. He could not control his pace. When he finally managed to reach the top of the set of stairs, he took the direction of the corridor leading to his and his wife room. He ran so fast that he blew past the long corridor, pulverising the window of his bedroom, breaking the room’s window and ended up in the snow, outside of the hotel that suddenly exploded.

Jack woke up in sweat. Maybe because of the dream, but also because the TV was on fire. He got up of the bed, coughing from the poisonous fumes filling the room and ran to the door. Of course, it was locked. He remembered, for once, where he had put the hotel room key; on the TV stand. But the television and the stand where devoured by thick black and red flames. The key was definitely lost. He prompted himself to the window but he could not understand the mechanism for opening it. Why do hotel room as those complicated windows opening mechanism along with weird shower malfunctioning?

As he was thinking about this, he felt like writing it down on his notebook. His precious notebook! He didn’t really cared about his wallet and laptops nor his trousers. He didn’t want to have his precious notebook burn, with all these wisdom, thought and ideas going up in flames and destroyed forever, never to be recovered. Jack never trusted his memory, writers have a tendency to forget things pretty fast because they often think about the thousand of things they could write. Their brains are often on maximum overdrive, keeping them up at night, pushing them to daydream.

Even more interesting stuff that he had to write about on the pages of his beloved notebook that was just standing on the bedside table.

He quickly leaped next to the bed to pick it up. But the notebook was stuck, impossible to grab off the table, like it was glued to the wood.

The writer tried his best to lift it up, planting his nails on the woods, bleeding. The effort made him suffocate even more. He wouldn’t give up, nails were coming off the fingers, shards penetrating deeply in his fingertips.

He felt a hand on his shoulder yanking him.

He woke up, laying in his bed. The young hotel manager was seating next to him.

Jaskiers

Just Another Haunted Hotel Room Story – Part 2

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

A childish fear, he thought to himself.

He opened the door of his room. A smell of cigarette hit him directly. He stopped smoking two months ago and this smell will not help him forget his longing for a good smoke after the stress of the traveling. Thankfully, he had no cigarette in his pockets to taunt him even more.

The room had that uniform pale brown color, a two persons wide bed, a night stand with a phone, a lamp and an ashtrey. Facing the front bed, a TV stand with a top notch television and multiple drawers. A wardrobe next to the bed et next to it, a bathroom with a toilet. A picture perfect basic motel room.

He let down his luggage on to the floor and laid in bed, looking at the roof stained by years of smoking.

One of these spots looked like a rabbit.

Smoke stains are likes clouds, perfect pareidolia materials. He took out his notebook to write that thought down. The writer learned to write down every thing that inspired him directly as to not forget a good idea that could help him in his futur writing. He never really used the notes he putted down in his journal, it was more of a little obsession, just in case the inspiration decided to take a leave from him creative mind.

Curiosity pushed Jack to open the bed side drawer, see if there was a bible. It’s a curious thing to put a bible in hotel rooms he thought to himself. It was not the case in Europe, it was something typically American. Forcing God into your life, guiding the lost sheep back to the Lord’s herd. He wrote those lines down on his notebook before opening the drawer and discovering a tiny black leathered bible and a full pack of Camel cigarettes along with a lighter.

Torrence heartbeat increased for a bit. There were, in this drawer, God wisdom and the Devil sweet temptation.

He took the bible and opened it where the little strip of tissue served as a bookmark.

He read the first line that caught his eyes :

(Luke 22:40)
When He arrived at the place, He said to them, “Pray that you may not enter into temptation.”

He sighted, looked at the pack of cigarettes, took it, turned and smelled the odor of tobacco before putting it down like it was burning his finger.

Sometime, life work in mysterious ways, like God, but it also have frightening coincidences that make you question existence in its whole. Jack was in deep meditating state, wondering if life was nothing but a simulation, a cruel game, lead by a disturbed man.

He got back looking at the roof to discover that the rabbit looked like a bird now. He moved his head to see if it was a change in his position that made this metamorphosis but it wasn’t.

How strange is the thing controlling us. Why does it seem that sometime, he takes a particular interest in you for a moment and giving you the hardest, cruelest and strangest time of your life ?

Sleep started to ask for its due. Jack took off his trouser and his old leather jacket, rested his head on a pillow and started to dose off.

He started having one of those strange and scary dreams where you wake because you felt like falling off a cliff.

Jack raised up from his bed immediately. He remembered reading something about those kinds of terrific dreams. The brain dropped some kind of adrenaline’s type chemical in the body, because for a moment, he was thinking that the body was about to die, or something along those lines.

It marked, once more, that room with a dreadful feeling. Something was wrong here. After what happened back at the Monclar hotel back in Colorado, the writer knew that there was some strange and powerful power out off our understanding lingering in there. Only peoples who face those strange power know that you shouldn’t mess with those entities.

Jaskiers