Chapter Two... Fall

"Sometimes people wake up feeling somehow stricken, and your heart beats so quick that it hurts. I might be because of a cruel dream; not a nightmare, those make you wake up on sweat."

"I'm standing on the edge of a 70 mt. height waterfall  in my hometown, and I'm arranging two video cameras; one recording the fall of the water and the other recording me. I'm speaking to one of the cameras: "this is the end, I chose this as I'm finishing everything. There will be no more silly illusions and thoughtful pain" and I cut my arms, I'm killing myself. Then I jump off from the edge just to make sure that I'll die. I'm falling, but I see myself through the cameras while I'm falling. I can see my blood falling slower than the rest of my body floating around my arms. The air feels warm, there is no wind and I'm taking the time to breathe deeply for the last time. 

I'm half way down when suddenly I feel like flying, that I'm not falling anymore which only had happened in my dreams. I try to control it fearing this is only in my mind and my body is actually rushing to the furious water of the deep. But no,  I feel like I'm floating in the air with my arms open and still bleeding. I scream. Then I realize that my arms are healing. I wouldn't die now, the bleeding had stopped and there I was, Not falling anymore. 

It feel like I was controlling that "flight", Night starst to cover the scene with stars and a full moon.I wandered flying as I was actually doning, when a sudden thought of her came to me. I was going there, to her house actually!

I stop in front of her window and pull out a cigarrete, my hands are shaking, trembling. I shout her name, calling her, I scream a a rush of anger, nerves, sadness, tears, smoke. I Cry. I feel that I'm not dead but that I don't exist either. Or at least not for her. I'm falling again". 

Chapter One... Suppose

- Never again will I fall in love - I told my friend.


- What happened? – Asked he – you seemed to get on like a house on fire!


- Yeah, we did; but something happened a couple of weeks ago. Listen up, she called to tell me about a dream she had had in which she saw me falling from a bridge. I told her not to worry because it had just been a dream, but then I had a dream too. On it, I could see myself falling from a bridge, the same one I guess. The weird part was that it happened like in slow motion... so I could look up to the bridge while I fell. But there she was standing so calmed so... not caring! You know what I mean… and she was kissing another guy.


My friend kept silent for a while and then asked:


- What does it have to do with you breaking up with her? Was it premonitory or something? - He laughed nervously trying to sound cool and to cheer me up


- Kind of – I answered seriously – because I talked to her about it and she told me the same things I've told her before; to not worry, to trust her, that it had just been a dream. So it would never possibly happen I thought, and I did trust her. Until yesterday night when I got an anonymous message with a photo attached, and dated from the very day. The picture showed her kissing the damn same guy I had seen in my dream!


My friend went pale and nervous when asking:


- Who was he?


- It was you.

Capitulo cero... Nightfall

If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber'd here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend:

If you pardon, we will mend:

And, as I am an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck

Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call;

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.

Every time I go to sleep I remember those words and the red-haired faerie that said them. They come to me every night more like a curse, like condemning me to a lifetime of illusions, and dreams.

Most of the times she comes to me at night, we walk through paths I can vaguely recall, we talk of memories and hopes that vanish at dawn, she takes my hand but her touch does not want to wait until sunset. Her voice is worth a thousand poems, her body a sin I do not dare to commit, a kiss from her: a torture I am willing to endure until sunlight takes her figure away. she can stay in my arms for hours without saying a word, eyes open staring a the sky full of stars; or a cloudy one, watching the rain pour down through a window, or simply letting my hand go down her hair.

Every now and then she would say out loud "why do you feel so real? Why can I feel your hand erasing a tear's path? Why can't we be together?" "We are together dear, you come to me at night, and I come to you when you call me" we kiss then and I would hold her tight again.

Why do we have to wake up? Why can night be longer? Why does she have to leave?

"Why can't we be together dear?"

"Because our dreams are one, if you feel alone, be sure I'm feeling so too"

"Good bye dear, I'll be here next time your dreams come tales"