Tap, Tap, Malady
I
Words came scratching their way up my throat. I wanted to scream my feelings out to breathe, but everything seemed like a
I saw through someone else’s eyes. I walked back through my mind to find the missing lines. I saw you.
I saw me, through the mirror hanging on the wall behind you and me.
A cold breeze kissed my cheeks. My eyes closed instantly without my control. Then my feet sank
Was it earlier or a day before?
Nevermind. The room already sank. No, I sank. Still, I smiled from ear to ear.
Maybe that was a week ago.
“No,” whispered a voice from behind.
When was it?
I was still smiling from ear to ear. I saw nothing but I felt it.
A quick flash of blinding light welcomed me as my whole body sank to the room. My eyes were closed before a beam of red sparks forced me to see.
I wore a navy blue tie and that was all. I checked.
But, I didn’t feel my breasts!
What happened to my breasts?
I reached lower to check the other parts of me. My hands stopped just an inch below my flat chest.
Were my arms gone as well?
Words wanted to climb their way up my throat. Digging deeper into my flesh. I hoped blood splatter all over, but only an empty open mouth reflected on the mirror hanging behind you and me.
Screeching sounds overwhelmed you. No, me.
I looked at my hands and saw the walls coming nearer. My fingers touched the moist walls and I leaned against them. I felt numb, maybe tired. I heard the screeching sounds again.
Alas! It was from my own fingernails. Slowly yet seemed so gently, my nails…
Your nails peeled off from your pinkish flesh.
“Beautiful,” you said.
It’s alright, I replied. I got used to the smell and the sight. Nothing special.
You stopped and the little spots of blood slowly formed into a frown right in the middle of the wall. The fingernails grew bigger like some little seeds planted on the ground. Tiny sprouts broke out of the soil to shout for life.
Tears fell from each one. I knew then that you were sad.
My mouth shut with barbed wires. The wall melted like wax. Out of the room, I flew to the mountains next door.
A clock ticktocked on the sun. February moved to January of the next year. I waited. You didn’t come. It took a second for the mountains to change from a lovely verdant home to a snow covered, frozen zone.
How poetic.
This life, overflowing with surprises. I sank taller, grew smaller. There were glittering reflections on the icy water. Picked up a pair of skates, a door opened, it was too late. The sun lit brightly and the entire room burned from floor to ceiling. I walked quietly across hell and tiptoed to the basement on the first floor. Nothing’s odd. It was routine.
There were the clock and the mirror that reflected the image of you and me. Fire blazed around its frame yet no glare blocked the view. You looked straight. I looked for you, beyond the reflection on the mirror.
A door opened beside you. A door opened next to me, I touched the knob and felt the electrifying jolt of delight when I saw you waiting in the other room.
False hope.
It was two rooms to the right. No bridge connecting you to me. My room was a hollow cage with no beginning or end.
My shout echoed from wall to wall, bounced to the continuous cycle of the hollow cage.
How was it possible?
A thought of reality finally struck me.
Lightning hit the door frame. I still held the knob tightly, but the electricity stopped before it reached my pinky.
The room shattered. There were pieces of each one reflected on the other. Over and over. One part is within the other. One memory scattered on the loophole of the empty room within this magical world between a haven we created. I, you, whoever needed help.
Years passed, my head grew bigger, my breast flatter, my arms longer, sometimes shorter. Feet stuck. Feet moved. Feet left in the other room.
Only the mirror hanging on the wall behind you and me remained steady. Sure of its place.
Cheating, living on a fallacy. Cheating death. Cheating the beauty of unity.
Worked my way through a series of trances. My masculinity. My femininity. For this world, our world.
Forgot every detail.
The shape of my nose, to the arch of your lips, the length of my hair, the redness of your cheeks. Here, only the senses, the ideas, the memories are kept. True or false, story or reality.
I ran to escape that room of thoughts. I never liked monologues.
I walked to the center of the stage. My eyes longing for you even though the spotlight blinded the way.
Is somebody there?
An echoing laughter filled my guts. Not butterflies, but worms tickled the tiniest vein from within. The tiniest of the tiniest, I forgot their names.
Were you happy then?
The ticklish shock on my stomach came up to my chest, just a bit to the left of my heart. It wanted to take its place instead. Should I let it?
Every bit of the thump, thump from my chest pulled the room bigger, smaller, bigger, smaller. The ticklish beat burst and the room exploded into pieces, but I lived.
Why was I still here?
Wake up. Stand up. Shut up. Let it be.