Warlock, p.30
Warlock, page 30
She stopped, and her arms dropped:
“Oh, I forgot… That’s me, who have active time with your brain – you just woke up.”
She jumps on my bed and looks into my eyes with a smile, which may be cute, if she may be real, but now it was little bit creepy. Mara looked into my eyes, seems like she tries to find something inside them. Then she said at last:
“You must be healthier to reach my goal,” she leaned back. “But today we may have a little practice”
She took the diary from the inside of my nightstand and gives me:
“Here,” Mara opened a notebook on the first page. “Now I show you something interesting.”
Tulpa pointed her finger on the page, and run her finger over it, inviting me to draw something after her. It was a honeycomb (of course it was), but then she upgrades it with a triangle on the one side. Couple pages after she repeats the hexagon, but then she draws a circle on the other side. Then we turn a couple of other pages. Here and there we draw such random figures, but soon I found that I can’t breathe.
“Stop,” I said after the fourth sign. “Wha… What the fuck are we doing?”
“We’re setting the traps. Or securing your diary. Chose what you like most.”
I panted, and trying to make my breathing calmer:
“And what it would do to… To unwanted reader?”
She looked at me sarcastically, telling me without words that I’m asking stupid question. I smiled a little:
“I see. The same things that just happened to me”
She nodded:
“Indeed. So, let’s continue?”
In that tempo we draw figures to the end of the diary, even on the blank pages. Mara said that she does not want to return to this process later – better to do it now beforehand. All that stuff with hexagons and my breaks after each five-six ones took an hour and fifteen minutes. At the end I was existed almost completely.
“There,” she said. “Now it’s much more secure”
Mara bow her head to the side, and frowned:
“Not a bank, for sure, but I found this work pretty nice. Thanks.”
She touched my shoulder, and smile to me:
“You need to take a rest. See you tomorrow.”
Saying this, she disappeared. I hide the notebook to the nightstand and fell to the bed without any energy. I was almost empty, but in the same time I felt something inside me, some… Some shining spot that with a time would turn in the great light. Pretty similar feelings you can feel after the workout – you’re exhausted and feel strength and energy that rise inside you. You know that tomorrow you’ll be bigger and heavier. But today – you’re empty.
With a such thought’s I fell into a dreamless sleep”
“Diary entry #49.
Today I had two visitors – Fred took Mary to me. We had talked about things that happened on the party, and I said her easiest lie in my life – that I don’t remember all things, and if I had done something bad to her – please, excuse me, because I was drunk and almost dead. And if something can change me – it definitely happens there.
It was easy because of Mara, of course – she had played a role of my prompter. I ask Fred to leave us alone for a moment (it was already funny, because there were three of us there). Mara stood behind the spine of Mary, and lift her hand to the eye level of a girl ahead of me. Then she placed her hand behind Mary’s ears:
“Here. You need to look here. Repeat after me. “Look” …”
“Look…”
Mara hides her palm for a second:
“Antony, drop your eyes, just for a second. Lift them. Look up on hand. There. Say her – “I know that I hurt you somehow”, Antony, in her eyes.”
I listened to her carefully and followed her instruction:
“…I’m sorry. I do not know what had I done, but, please, forgive me…”
And so on.
As a result – she said that I was a dick, but she thinks that I had got my punishment from life in a full scale. Even I can’t say better. Then Fred entered, and we had a nice little chat. In the end he asked me about Mara. She, sitting near him smiled at his question.
“How’s yours imagine friend experiment? You said that you passed that exam with its help.”
“Look at him,” Mara said and become invisible. “They need to think that I’m a simple projection.”
“Yeah, I said. This… This hospital case slowed me don for a while, but I have practice here too.”
Mara was interested for the first time of this visit:
“What it’s look like? What do you feel?”
I shuddered:
“Like talking with you, actually. You know, if you for a thousand timed will repeat that you need to wake up at three o’clock in the morning, with a great possibility – you’ll open your eyes at this time,” They slightly nodded. ”So, here you have one difference – you’re talking to some imaginative person. Just like that.”
They were little puzzled as I can see, but I was glad. They do not need to know about powers of Mara, or the ways that she can show me. After a fifteen minutes they leave me alone.
In the evening my parents came to me. They visit me day after one, and I think that it’s too much actually, but I could understand their feelings. Mom told something that I’m suffered for her sins. Yeah! With a such degree of pathos! She meant her alcohol issues of course, and she promised that she learned her lesson. And you know why I think that all that she said is a bullshit? Because I’m sure that the same face I had when I talked with Mary a little bit earlier. Mom, she hadn’t believed to herself – she was scared. And we both knew what happens when scare fades away, and she calms herself a little.
Dad was strange too. Yeah, he was glad to see me alive, and all that staff, but something was inside him. Something grey. I can’t see it now, but I felt it easily. Hey, parents do not suppose that you’re the smartest ones on this planet – your children can see when you lie, can feel it, something shivered inside them – be sure. And if my mom was an open book to me with her alcohol problem, but dad… Even Mara felt something – when he talked, she looked at him directly, and even tried to touch him, like people touching fresh paint to see it sticky or dry enough. She touches his shirt, rub her toes, and even lick them. She frowned and looked at him during all our meeting. I’ll try to find what happens with my dad, but I need to be at home.
A doctor said that my healing went perfectly good, so in three or five days I’ll be home.
After my parents leave me, I draw some additional signs to my diary, and write down this sentences with a great effort actually – my hand is burning.
See you, my filthy diary.”
“Diary entry #50.
Today was a long-long day. It was something like final observation, diagnostics of all my body and shit inside me. I think that doctors always interested in shit mostly. Fuck, all people around interested in that dirty things inside you, heh? Compare – learn something new about Mother Teresa or find something dirty and naughty about her? I doubt that you’ll think too long.
But shitty nature of our civilization is not today’s theme.
Today is all about me. There couple of stitches, bruises and blood mars. That’s all that left on me in a week after my death for a five minutes. Doc said that it was almost a miracle. Then he tested my reflexes, eyes, ears and all holes of my body. It’s not a good phrase – he tested all my holes naturally. And believe me – this is gross.
All this time Mara was near me, making this humiliation more bearable. She makes fun on the doctor’s fake hair, his diplomas, etc. Sometimes I forgot that she is part of my conscious – she so live, so teenager, if I can say this like.
Then they put me into a MRI to watch on my brain, and Mara became pale in the same moment when I was almost hide from her in a tube. Her voice was trembling:
“I don’t like this,” she said, looking around. Then the screamed. “Aaaaagh! Antony!!!”
She dropped on her knees and disappeared. I tried to look on her, and took a hit inside a tube. Doc came to me and asked if I’m all right. I said, yes, just confused a little. He looked at me attentively and asked if we can continue? I tried to see is there Mara near me, but she was totally absent. I say, “yes”, and we began all stuff from the start.
Then was a talk with doc. He looked at slices of my brain and say something like:
“There is some blood inside,” he talks dreamily, looking on black and white prints. “Not too much, dot here, dot there.”
Then he turned to me:
“A couple of them in the vision and hearing centers. Tell me, do you felt last week something unusual?”
Oh, I saw where all this talk going:
“No,” I lied. “Nothing unusual.” Last wasn’t total lie.
He looked at me more carefully:
“Do you saw something that mustn’t be there? Or hear something strange?”
I looked straightly into his eyes and answered:
“Nothing like that”
I know that Mara appeared beside my left shoulder. She said faintly:
“Look into his eyes until he turns them from you.”
She sounded ill and lack of strength, but I’m still looked into doc’s eyes:
“And even If I saw something, and that things weren’t supernatural, or something like this – maybe I do not know that they were fake.”
Doc looked at me for second or two, smiled, and look at the pictures once again. I won. I looked behind, but saw empty room. “Mara,” I said. “Where…”
“I need to rest a little. I’ll be beside you, if you need me, but without visual.”
I nodded a little, and concentrate on a doc. He stops looking on the brain slices and wrote something into my card. Then he leads me to the shrink, saying that this is a last stop of mine for today. And if he (shrink) would advise to let me go home – so be it. I thanked to doc, and came into shrinks’ office.
It looks as it always shows in serials and movies – diplomas on the wall, some greens, light from the big window (I also noticed black curtains – maybe he uses them for more comfortable mood.), and couch on the left, right under the wall with a nice painting, reproduction of a … Fuck. How does it call? Something about the picnic in the England – a lot of ladies and gentleman on the nice green lawn. If I’ll recall name of it – I’ll wrote it.
The shrink was also classical one – middle aged man with a small beard and weigh problems, but in a nice suit and pretty good watch that he tried to hide all the time.
He looked at me, smiled, and said:
“Hi, Antony. Sit down, please,”
Mara said in my ear:
“To the chair, sit deep on it and relax.”
I obey her totally. A shrink read something in a card, that doc gave to his, humming a little. I was wondered is it was his light spirit or it was a standard way of meeting people in this office. I looked to the diplomas and saw his name – Norman Elvoy.
“So,” he said, stop humming, and looked at me. “How do you feel, Antony?”
I cleared my throat and tried to answer with a calmest tune of my voice:
“Fine, thanks”
Norman took a pause, looking at me, then said:
“Something bothers you? Mr. Menright wrote that your reactions and state in physical meaning is pretty sharp. My work is you as a person. How do you characterize your state by yourself?”
“Think carefully,” Mara said. “Do not rush.”
“Tired,” I said after a couple of moment’s. “Clinic is not the happiest place, you know.”
He smiled a little:
“Right. And how do you feel about other guy, that wasn’t so lucky as you were?”
Mara once again appeared in the form of a voice only:
“Ve-e-e-ery careful,”
I said: “I do not care.”
Mara: “Fuck”
Shrink: “Why?”
I took another time segment to think about. Do you think about your own words as you think in the police station or sitting opposite a doctor like I am now? I doubt about this.
“He beat me quite often,” I said. “So, I do not care about him. This is a nicest emotion that I can show about him.”
Norman look at me, and put down his pen:
“How do you think, do you ready to return to previous life?”
I felt like Mara touch my shoulder with her hand:
“Look,” she said, and I know that I need to repeat after her. So I did. “Look, that what’s happened to me… It left an imprint on me. And it would affect me in any way. But. But I hope that I’ll get enough strength and ability to become better guy, that I can hold this in my hands. You want to hear what I’m thinking about myself? If I’m normal or not?”
I saw reaction, Mara guessed perfectly, but she continued:
“I think that answer is “no”, because being dead for five minutes isn’t normal obstacles, and if you live through this – it left something inside you, something out of borders of normality. Normal – no, I think that it’s “no”, can I stand this? I hope. I’ll do my best.”
Then was a silence. Shrink looked at me, and I look at him.
Mara said:
“Nice job, and now – sit still without any sound. We need to await.”
Some moment passed, and he said:
“I’m accepting your answer,” he took papers that doc gave to him and began to write something, continuing. “You’re right about print that such a situations left. And I believe that sometimes they’re deeper than people think. So, we’ll meet again. First month – every week. Then – once a three weeks for another couple months. And then – we’ll see.”
I nodded:
“Fair enough”
Mara signed a little:
“Douchebag, it will be a waste of time,”
I smiled and stood up. I do not notice how many energy this talk took from me.
“Have a nice evening.”
“And you,” Norman nodded. “See you next week.”
I nodded and went to my room in a hospital. Here I felt to bed and slept for an hour. Cellphone woke me up – that was mom, who was glad to tell me, that they’ll take me from a hospital tomorrow morning. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad too.”
Then I wrote the whole stuff here, my dirty diary. And now I need to sleep, my hand is ache, but it’s nice to say good bye to all this medical thing, and return to every day’s shit at home. Interesting, all that stuff about normality – was Mara’s fake, or I can’t think about myself as normal anymore. I’ll think about this other day.
Good night my filthy diary and fuck you. Just in case.
…
Oh! Yes, the name of a painting is “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte” by Georges Seurat, thank you search engines of the internet! I’ll never recall it by myself.”
“Diary entry #51.
Today I had returned from a hospital, and… And everything is strangely dim and grey. Something wrong with a whole world around me or something wrong with me?
I felt strange new air in my room, and it seems like it become larger. I know that is ridiculous, but when I watch on the walls or corners, I see that it becomes like an opening box – boundaries of a room want to let in some spare space. Or other dimension. In an early era of computer games, somedays inner design of buildings has the same issues – designers don’t close them up, or creates materials that leaved free space in the corners. But I know that all this because of hexagons that we draw with Mara before the crash.
There was a tension between parents, and between me and them – they watch on me, like on an ancient vase. First – I can’t understand what’s the deal? Then I got it – they were afraid that something would happen to me. A couple of rude barks from me and they believed that I’m fine.
But I wasn’t. Something was wrong. Something was near me, something that I can’t touch or see properly. Like something from another life. Like a root that I don’t know – dying or growing in something.
There is a theory that every our decision creates a parallel universe, with another probability map and another history as well. And when you feel that you must do something in the past in another way, think about it, or try to configure your life with another obstacles and circumstances – that means that you feel that one parallel universe, which it’s situated in this second too close to you.
Another theory told that there are no parallels itself, that everything with all these multi-universes reminds something lie a soup with amount of ingredients. And if you take this soup and make a slice of it’s in particular moment – you’ll get our universe. Next moment – it would mix all possibilities inside itself, creating something awful like moment before.
And I can’t clearly understand, what do I feels. How impact does it feel or cause. If you’ll think of it properly, you’ll find that the is no small or big things. You try to compare everything with yourself or some imaginary scales. And what the elementary part of it? Micron? Inch? Sand part? Your body? Milky Way? Universe itself? What if our universe is located in the virus DNA that just killed a cow? Whole damn universe with all parallel ones?
Your mind can't take it in whole scale, your language can't describe it, so how can you be a more than a molecule or even an atom on the beach? Elementary part in a desert that no one sees and no one cares.
It’s like a cat that sit and watch into the corner near the ceiling. What does he see? Something? Someone? That same thing, that he let in a room, and wait before it passes through? Something like that thing like I see now – something from another world?
Fuck. Deal with it now.”
“Diary entry #52.
I missed yesterday.
Not figural, but in a fact. The whole yesterday gone. I wake up and just after the breakfast I saw that yesterday was gone through me. It was a shock, but I was smart enough not to ask about this my parents. I went to you, my dirty diary, in a case that I wrote down something, and find a set of hexagons. My side sight shows me that geometry of my room changed, and I went closer to the walls. Then I thought that my legs would trait me, and I’ll fall right where I stand. There was a whole set of little hexagons on a walls. Here and there, they weren’t visible with a naked eye, just if you watch closer, you’ll see them properly. In a whole set, they remind me something like a hologram, or that pictures with a second payer, which you see if you cross your eyes.
