Alright now, on to the next phase. Darkness, eyes closed, the whole shebang, whatever.
Books are surrounding me from all corners and angles. The biblichor is refreshing. I deeply inhale the bracing aroma bathing the closed area with a delectable fragrant.
I close my eyes on instinct drawing in as much of the redolent odor as my nostrils and both my lungs possibly could. For a split second, I am loosened and unbent. For a split second, my perilous quandary escapes me. For a split second, I am at peace. As my cilium flutters open, I am met with a teenager handing me over his book. The boy asks me to sign it for « So hot for Stefan ». Bafflement invades my facial expression as my brows furrows and my forehead wrinkles. Why’s this kid asking me to sign his book?
For a moment, I wait for my annoying voice to answer me back in that smug and pestiferous tone. To my surprise, I hear no one except someone’s concerned voice.
I know that voice…
I look to my right and add to my earlier surprise, my girlfriend is sitting next to me asking me if I was okay and if I would hurry up and rubricate the fan’s copy so the line would move along.
I’m a published author! HOLY MOLY!
I did it. I finally did it. My novel is released. Felicity is coursing through me like race cars seconds before the finish line. Is this how it feels to be accomplished? An endless reservoir of dopamine inundating my receptors?
This is… Formidable.
I’m ebullient to a point where I rise up, kiss the teenager on the cheek and thank him for being a fan then sign his book. My girlfriend’s looking at me funny. The sort of look that says What has gotten into you?
I don’t mind. I’m exuberant. Nay, I’m on top of the world!
Alas, my joy doesn’t last that long. Guess who’s at the corner, arms-crossed with a resting-b*tch face on?
Suddenly, I’m not at ease anymore. I excuse myself from the crowd and head over towards him. Everything lays still just like it happened during my first part of this… I don’t even know what to call it. A dream? A fantasy? A flashback? It doesn’t matter.
– “I figured that I wouldn’t have to see your arsey face again since you didn’t show up at my last test.”
– “I’m not happy to be here either.”
– “What? No insults? No witty comebacks?”
– “No. Because apparently, you and I no longer have the time for that. Your brain has decided to pull the plug on you should you mess up ONE.MORE.TIME.” He said as he dabbed my shoulder with his index.
– “Why should I believe you? And what makes you so sure? And if you are me, how come you know more than I do?”
– “Because there are 3 of us and we’re governed by our brain. There’s you, me and the other. A nasty w*nker the other is. You wouldn’t want to trust him. He’s not a friend of ours. All that satiates his thirst for anarchy, is chaos. Look man, if you keep on resisting, WE WILL CEASE TO EXIST. Do I look like I’m playing games right now? Does my change of approach with you not give you any indication of the staidness of our mutual predicament? Wake up man! Get over yourself.” He chuckled after his last line. “That is actually ironic. I’m telling you to get over yourself. You know what? I’m done. For real this time. You’ll no longer see me. Good luck.”
He disappeared. Just like that.
A sharp sigh escapes my chest as I run my hands through my hair in deep aggravation. I ponder upon his allegations and the possible repercussions of this dire situation. A part of me, scratch that because – HELLO – I’m already fragmented into three parts in this nonsensical farce, I’m refusing to believe that this is a test and that I’m going to die if I don’t pass. I mean, it’s MY brain. How could MY brain want to kill me if I want to keep on living? That is most confusing!
On the not-so-bright side, I’ve got one last shot at preserving my life and I’d better not scr*w it up. I proceed to closing my eyes but I stop as two of his words echoed in my head: the other.