The contract – Chapter twelve

When was the last time he felt the sun on his body? How long has it been since the warmth of the spring sun embraced him? A week? A month? A day?! His mind couldn’t make a difference between days and nights, clearly not on the time itself. Could it be summer outside? Winter? His scrabbled brain still fought with the idea that so much time had passed. Suna was rocking his body, in the same place he was hours ago, in the side corner of the room, close to that fake window he hated. He looked nowhere in particular, his eyelids half open. If there was something he missed, was the sun that he usually felt on his arms, when he left work. By 6 o’clock, the sun was still sharing his final rays, getting ready to set behind the tall building. The memory of that light made him smile. Sunali stretched his arms, imagining himself soaking the sun. Soaking the sun… “Here comes the summer’s sun…/ He burns my skin…/ I ache again/ I’m over you…(over you…)/ I thought I had a dream to hold/Maybe that has gone… Your hand reach out and touch me still…/ But this feel so wrong”. Just like when he was a child, the singing helped him cover the fear. His fear of his own thoughts – but not even the scariest of them compared to the recurring image of Christine’s dead body, lying on the street, in a pool of blood. Just like the one in his room. He was shaking his head and singing whatever cheerful song would pop up in his head. “Here comes the summer’s sun…” Then, in a split second, he would hear her voice again, repeating the same words she had last said.

Shut up, Christine… Please, shut up… Mhmmmm… “Here comes the summer’s sun”… Mhmmm... The singing man was closed inside an empty room; the room was in a distraught man’s head and took up all the empty space; that scared little man himself was put inside a random room, that was inside a panicked tiny man’s head, who was waiting inside a bloody room… And so on. Whatever space was left, was taken by the forced memory of his past lover. The ghostly figure of the woman who had loved a tiny man.

The magazines left by the door started to pile up, without him noticing. There were just a few, last time he paid them any attention. Gradually, the pile became bigger and bigger, almost impossible to try and pass through the door. Their now yellowish color made you think of a chain smoker that had puffed over them day after day. Has it been a week? A month? A day?! Even his bloody foot print changed its color, turned to dark red. The pieces of glass were scattered around the table and chair. There is nobody here, but me… Nobody, but me…

Hey, you, Mister Sunali…. She smiled to him, tucking her hair behind her ear. She was wearing large green earrings, that sparkled in the lights. The room itself disappeared and he could only see her radient face. Christine, my love, you are here…

You keep calling for me, Mister. I just had to finally show up on you, don’t you think?

You came to see me, baby… Even if all that’s left of me, is a big mess. Well, a bigger one…

Let me guess: Helen put you up to this. That Hell-en-Cunt… You’ve never done this before, Suna. Why do you keep adding poison to you body? First was booze, now drugs… What will you do next? Do you want to kill yourself?

No… I just wanted to see you again. Even if only in my hallucinations, on my floor. Why did you have to go, Christine?

Her glowing smile faded. Don’t you remember, she asked. Don’t you remember what you did to me?

Sunali didn’t want to hear those words. Refused to hear her talk like that. He covered his ears and began to hum another tune. Did you forget what you did to me, Mister Sunali? He couldn’t face her now dark face, her frown look and angry voice. It was not my fault, Christine! I didn’t want you to die! It was not my fault!

It’s on you, Sunali! My blood – is on you! He felt his hands become colder and when he opened his eyes to look at them, they were all red. It wasn’t me… It wasn’t me! Go away, Christine! Fucking go away! Helen shook him hard, getting him back from his hallucinations. Her phone was on the floor, set on “record”. Disoriented, a half naked Sunali looked around to discover he was back in his own apartment, with his Monstera by his side and an opened window. The sun was up, the pigeons were noisy and it was another morning in his home. Helen was there, too. Are you okay, Suna?

Helen?… Is that you, he asked, touching her face.

Jesus, you really had a bad shroom trip, my friend. This is the only time I do this with you. Ralph told me to watch you, since is your first time, but – dude. You flipped out over here, she laughed. In a Suna kinda way, you know? Wanna see? I have it on my pho… Sunali jumped in her arms, hugged her tighter than ever before. Wow, wow, that’s new. Were you really that… gone? You wanna talk about it?

Sunali was shaking while tears touched his face. He had a huge smile, to Helen’s surprise. No, I don’t want to talk about it, Hell. I don’t want to talk about a-ny-thing! I am just so fucking happy! He hugged her even tighter, smelling her “My way” perfume. I’ve never been this happy to see your face, Hell, I swear. And never, so hungry. Let’s go eat something. Let’s have the biggest fucking breakfast we ever had! She was puzzled about this new attitude, but didn’t question it. Let’s eat all the crap we can get our hands on, she laughed. Her green earrings were moving in perfect sync with her body, giving her a dreamy look.

Whatever you do, Helen, just delete those fucking recordings, okay? Don’t share them and don’t how me. I just want to forget this night all together. Not waiting for an answer, Helen showed him the phone, selected two recordings and pressed the “Delete” button. Happy now?

Never been happier, he answered on his way to the toilet.

Good to see your bladder hasn’t changed…

I heard that, Helen! This was the craziest trip he had ever been on. He got drunk before, but never had so vivid hallucinations like now. While he was taking a piss, Sunali was feeling himself just as you would after a very real and scary nightmare. He felt relieved for all the shit that just ended. Fuck the money! Fuck the hungry part. Screw seeing ghosts! It was all a freaking trip on shrooms, that for sure, he will not repeat. As he was looking at the wall, happy to release himself, a thought hit him: how did his fantasy self know about the recording Helen had done in real life? He couldn’t see the future and all. Neah, that’s bullshit. Stop overthinking it. He shook his head and flushed the toilet. But then another though made its way to his little head – when did Helen start wearing those green earrings again? She never wore them before or after that day, at “La Bistro”. Why would she wear them again? The day when Christine… No, I’m not gonna think bout it.

What are you doing in there, Suna? Are we going to eat… or go on another trip? Hahaha, mine was good, by the way. The trip, I mean.

Oh, yeah? I was worried there for a second you tried to call Ralph on me, while I was.. off, he joked.

Worry is a waste of imagination. Grab your jacket and let’s go…

Frozen in his feet, Sunali watched Helen up close. What did you say?

What?

Where did you hear that from? You couldn’t have known this… Where did you hear that from?

Jesus, Suna, calm down! Who can keep up with you these days? One second you’re hugging me like I am your mother, next minut you shout at me for no reason…

Helen – where did you hear that? She looked at him dearly. Just like a mother, she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head, letting her earrings dingle by her neck.

Oh, Suna, you’re always so dramatic, you know that? Should I say I read it somewhere online? Yeah, I mean I could – I could say that. Should I lie that I came up with it? I could say that also. But what if I say I read it on a wall, somewhere? On a wall, in a building, by reception. What would you feel about that, Sunali? But then again, how could I say that, if I haven’t been there… yet? She was playing with her earrings, smiling away, as the bright sun hit her face.

What the fuck is going on?

You have signed a contract, Mister Sunali. Do you feel like you respected it? As she was talking, her soft voice changed, becoming more still, more digitalized. It sounded more and more like Cratos’s voice.

Scared, Sunali dropped to the floor. He couldn’t understand what was happening in front of his eyes. The wound on his foot reappeared (has it ever disappeared?) and demented, he began to shake uncontrolably. What is happening to me? What is happening to me?

You haven’t fulfilled your contract yet, Mister Sunali. You consider yourself to be quite inteligent, and yet you can’t comprehend the simple act of what is happening to you right now. Helen’s body started to move unlike her. Similar to a robot, her moves became more rigid, looking very unnatural. Helen looked as herself, but there’s where the resemblance ended. Helen – was no longer Helen.

Leave me alone! All of you, leave me alone!

Is the truth dramatic to you?

Leave me THE FUCK ALONE! He shouted scared out of his mind. He didn’t open his eyes as “Helen” was getting closer to him, his mind unable to process anything. So he did what he knew better: he started rocking his body, not looking, not hearing, just singing his lungs out. “HERE COMES THE SUMMER’S SUN/ IT NURNS MY SKIN/ HERE COMES THE SUMMER SUUUUUN”…

Sunali’s body started to feel different. He, again started to feel the unquenchable hunger, as he was rocking back and forth. His squeezed eyelids couldn’t see the orange circles of light anymore; now it was all dark. He could feel things changing around him. Under his skin, a soft fabric was touching his butt and legs. The voice was no longer talking to him. Nobody was talking anymore. He felt all alone, once more. As he opened his eyes, he came to the horrible conclusion that he was back in his imprisonment. His sun-less, bird-less, Helen-less empty room. The recording camera was still watching his every move, just as before. So did the emptied bottles of beer and the broken glasses from the floor.

No, oh my God, please no! No, no, no, he pleaded. Desperate, Sunali jumped from his mattress and started to bang the walls. He ran to the front door, pushing the pile of magazines and scratch cards away from his way. He tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t move. Pushed the magazines as far away as he could, and started hitting the door aggressively, with his foot. The wound began bleeding again, unimportant to Sunali. Let me out! Let me the fuck out of here! He banged harder and harder with his fists, still nobody came. He put his ear to the door and tried to listen. Carefully. Not – a – sound. Convinced there has to be a faster way out of there, he started banging on the trap door also. It should at least slide a little bit or something. I want out, you hear me? I don’t want your prizes anymore, you son of a bitch! Just get me out of here!

No door was opened. And no voice was answering.

Sunali was heavily panting. The lack of sleep, food and light made him feel exhausted. His limbs were shivering. Everywhere around him, was blood from the wound. He allowed his body colaps, trying to fill his lungs with air. He didn’t even care he had pissed himself. What… what do I… do now?

The Universe was silent.

The contract – Chapter thirteen