glimpse in a mirror

I’m back where I was
 
 
have been waiting for ages to say few words of mine
 
 
and it’s all mine
 
 
I’m screaming with my mouth shut
 
 
hear and see everything around me, behind me, in me even
 
 
 
it takes few painful moments to open up the door of secrets
 
 
 
have you ever wondered how your first love felt about you?
 
 
or have you made the right decision by choosing the job which seems boring now?
 
or would it be a good idea to get your driving license when you were 16?
 
what kind of life could you possibly have? have you lost your chance?
 
Did you make the right decision? Do you want to say good-bye to the lost ones?
 
 
That’s not even a tenth part of what the entering through that door gives you.
I’ve always imagined it like a disease; as if it would have been a bite of vampire slowly spreading through the body and eventually leaving you to die in order to be born again as one of them “evil” things. One question bothered me every time I’ve watched horror movies about walking zombies or irresistible vampires: the question of eternal life, development, the matter of revealing all the secrets and mysteries. At the end of the day, each of us could figure out the answer to any question of the humanity but we never have enough time – when we get closer, our engine stops – it’s either too much for us to take or we are considered of going mad.
 
So, I’m back where I was: in this room, no lights, no, there’s moonlight: and like a hungry wolf I want to howl at it, sing my terrifying song. But I’m not a wolf not even a dog.
 
I know most of the answers and now I wonder what was it for? These fights, wars, hates, loves, do-s and don’t-s. The whole philosophy of life (if there’s such a thing) and even now I know the answer – I hate it, don’t want to face it – everything was for nothing, for boiling in your own hot pot, for making silly illusions that you’re somehow getting where you want, anywhere really. People are right: mystery, unknown is much better than all these bloody answers; at the end of the day evil, vampires have to die and human beings have to carry on the thread of life.
 
Now I can talk with myself, I’m on my own – despite of the voices inside of me; it’s not that they’re getting stronger, it’s just me becoming too weak. At least I’ll loudly shut the door before leaving; at least I am still remaining me at this very moment. Some people called me gifted: teachers at school, friends, parents, girlfriends – but truly I’ve never felt it; truly I thought of myself as a wounded ugly creature who waits for its chance to attack. Strange things were happening to me whole my life – things which impossible to explain but very easy to notice; things which I always denied but at the same time they always managed to remind of themselves; things which are part of my life now.
 
What am I or who am I? More and more moments becoming missing in my memory; I’ve been writing a diary whole my cursed life - it’s hidden at the bottom of my wardrobe. That’s a girlish thing to do but I was freaked out by the thought that one day, one early morning I’ll wake up with the blank mind and empty eyes. So, I kept records of my life. It seemed a good idea at that time. I was six when I first started it, such a small kid with a deep unexplained understanding of life – not genius, no – just unlucky. People are either scared or jealous of others gifted with something special; but more often they are both: jealous and scared.
 
I could never get close with anyone; even with the girls I used to see longer than two weeks. I managed to lose my one and only best mate recently. Craig was a good friend: he was positive and sunny soul which shined with the bits of naivety and trust. That’s what I liked in him the most before putting him in prison: not literally, of course. He had attractive, colourful aura with rich, pure emotions: I enjoyed stealing that from him bit by bit; making my pleasure last longer. His first cute girlfriend, argument with parents, failure at school, small but harmful dog, his job at the bar, salary which he spent the same day, holidays with friends in Spain where he got a painful sunburn and a horrible hangover. He was a true friend sharing even his own life with his best mate.
 
People remind me of angels but someone has stolen their wings. I know that deep inside Craig was scared of me; maybe that’s why he worshipped me. We used to spend hours talking; usually before exams or important presentations. I needed more energy for that; but tutors were better, much better. I usually had this weird feeling that I am sucking out their juicy, vitamin-containing brains; emotional but elusive vampire. They were proud of their capable student and I was pleased with their tasty intelligence.
 
What I’ve always tried to avoid were the girls’ thoughts: sickening way they compared each other; jealousy just of other wearing few more pennies worth tights or memories of the darkest secrets about their female mates. The last one interested me the most.
 
That’s how I met Lucy – the most shocking gossips were about her. She was tall, pretty, fit and talented. She still is: unharmed and clean of all negative emotions. These are the indices of the true intuition and intelligence.  This lady attracted me through the distance with her confidence and talent, I guess. High, bright pink coloured energy around her called for love; Lucy was like hot electricity bulb for male insects. Guys were hypnotised by her but as soon as they got closer – got hurt, burnt and forgotten. I would have fit perfectly into the role of exception but I haven’t: first disappointment in my life with the unpredictable lady; just disappointment and nothing more.
 
Craig was luckier – ten days of craziness with Lucy and long fascinating nights of sharing memories about the past with me. At those times I felt as if I’ve been ugly, dangerous but very thirsty creature dieing to get few drops of clean water which gave me life and energy to move further on. Craig didn’t let me pass out: he got sick himself because of my constant thirst. I would have carried on but soon after that Lucy broke up with him. Those kinds of ladies are born once in a hundred years, I will always remember her: hot body which reflects sexual energy and which you always want to touch, smell, protect; lock somewhere in your apartments and spend with it every spare minute you have; every minute she lasts, keeps on breathing.
 
Whenever I’m close to killing someone I unconsciously remember my childhood, my memory tries to hit me with the unchangeable past; I could never get the point of those sufferings: what are they for? Then I turn into a dog trying to catch its own tail, making circle after circle then another circle and again making circle after circle; endless – and as I’ve said before, uncatchable but still unforgettable. I can’t call myself unsociable, creepy looser who stays in his own grey bubble; I’ve always loved staying around people for the obvious reasons now. Those qualities of being friendly, kind, loyal I gained during my childhood – they helped me to get any friend I wanted; to tie them to my company.
 
At the age of six I met my first love; still can’t forget her, as many of you probably remember him or her for the rest of your lives. She was a sweet, smiley little girl – vulnerable leader in a group. Not a single boy could resist her growing charm – me either. I was always watching her, following wherever she went, catching her breath or glimpse of those lively eyes. At those times (silly me!!!) I truly believed that she was my one and only until the moment when she stopped attending school. I missed her – and when she came back, I was eager to get any attention from her side. So eventually, ambulance was called that day – doctors are useless, they create so many reasons and explanations of the unknown or made-up illness but as a matter of fact none of them were true and somehow those people in white hospital gowns knew it.
 
That was the first time I’ve noticed her look: scared, darkened with fear and lightened with understanding. I felt as if I have been a pathetic killer whom even a small vulnerable girl feels pity for.  Pathetic, useless – that’s who I was in the depth of her eyes. If I ever had a chance to tell her this reaction, she would never believe me – usually people ignore the obvious signs coming from their hearts. Since then I started to watch eyes when I was killing: begging, scared, shouting, painful, mad, forgiving, hating, but very rarely – understanding. During every death where I was the main reason I remembered the look of my first love before she died; and my miserable dirty soul hurt.
 
Until now I could afford myself anything and anyone; upside down turn happened earlier: I started to read spiritual but fucked up books; they messed up thoughts in my mind, influenced my life. As a matter of fact, one of them stole my body from me: it was about vampires avoiding death. Whenever you achieve something big in your life, whenever you fulfil one of your brightest dreams, it’s never enough, is it? Your mind, soul, even body always asks for more and more and more and more – until the moment you stop breathing but even then they won’t stop; they will wait for you to wake up so they could start all over again. Miserable voices in your head, painful memories on the surface of your mind, ruthless regrets about the past – all this have an endless control over you and they never stop twitching you all over.
 
I found drugs LSD, it wasn’t hard to do – they stimulate the unconscious parts of the brain and open up the so-called energetic channels. I needed help and a back up: Craig agreed to that straight away, especially after I’ve promised him to share some of my supernatural abilities. His body could become a nice prison for my soul, when I wanted to. The plan was simple: Craig stabs me in my heart with the silver knife I’ve prepared while reading black spells (meaning of those I could never understand). LSD would open up the way for me to run if there was any problem or anything went wrong. If I succeeded, I would get immortality and power; I would live forever and enjoy as many souls as I could ever wish for.
 
It happened: my death happened but something did go wrong; I know it now: at the end of the bloody day I’m not a real vampire; I can’t wake up from the dead and never will be able to. Craig stayed in our room for about two days waiting for something to happen; for me to wake up until police and ambulance came over – they took him and me away.
 
I lost my body, yes, but somehow I’m still alive – I notice glimpses of myself in a mirror or in the cat’s eyes; I look like a transparent ghost or a lonely, lost stranger with sad eyes. Some people notice me, before I kill them. Uncatchable, unstoppable, certain amount of power and immortality, of course - but I need a body, I need to feel, to breathe, to be. Craig soon will go mad in a hospital and his body will be of no use.
 
 
Scary, huh?
 
 
Watch the mirrors and prepare to lend me your body whenever I find the ways to get it. Well, as I said, it takes only few painful moments …