Mist explanated

I feel the need to give some background information about ‘Mist’, the short story spread on this blog.

It might seem a bit chaotic, you know, because I just started writing it and I had no idea where I was going. Not really. That’s why I wasn’t always consequent and stuff. I almost made all of it up while brushing my teeth or driving my bike or doing something that doesn’t need my attention. That’s what I do all day. Making up stories.
Making up strange stories, in fact. I know that it’s weird and all, but deal with it – I already have ideas for another twisted story, but that one will be longer than six parts. Maybe you don’t like this kind of posts (because when you miss, you can’t follow anymore), if so, then you can always tell me, and I’ll stop it.
But for now, I do like it myself, so be prepared for more.

On Mooselicker’s demand I made a page in which all the parts of ‘Mist’ are collected in the most normal order. So if you’ve missed a part, or if want to reread the story, just take a look there! (But remember: it’s my story and you can’t steal it!)

Thanks to everyone reading it and liking and commenting it – I really appreciate your attention and hope you enjoyed it!

Mist (part 6 – the final part)

How long did this last? It felt like we spent enternities together, but in fact this just lasted for five months, approximately. It was enough to change the both of us. But after all, I was still obsessed with her. That’s the easiest way to put it. I hadn’t changed so much. That was why I could barely live without talking to her every day, even though it were just some sentences sent in text messages (we were so modern).

Until that final day.

I didn’t hear anything of her. The next day, the same thing. Silence. Why? I could have killed myself just by the thought of something being wrong. What’s happened? Is she alive? What in god’s name has happened to her? Is she dumping me? Is she leaving me like this? Why can’t she just say something, even when she’d say she never wants to see me again. Some sign of life. Something…

But somehow, I knew she wouldn’t leave me. Call it love. I call it knowledge. The kind of relationship we had, is something you can’t just give up like that. So I was worried. I was so worried… What if she eventually had decided she despised life too much? What if she had done something to herself? I didn’t sleep anymore when there was silence for the fourth day. I sat home, felt incredibly bad, and decided to call her.

“Hello?”

It wasn’t her voice. It sounded like a lady of my age.

“Hi?” I said.
“Hello, you’re William?”
“Yes?”
I can think of nothing more stupid then conversations in which you make every sentence sound as a question.
“You’re a friend of her’s, I guess?”
A friend? You wouldn’t call us friends if you knew what we shared, lady.
“A friend? Yes”, I responded.
“Haven’t you heard it then?” Her voice suddenly sounded softer, as if the thing I should have heard was something that could not be said aloud. I was worried. I was so worried.
“No”, I said, holding my breath.
“William”, she said as if I was a boy of Mist’s age. “She’s died.”

The stupid moment when you hold your breath and wish you could die straight away.

I don’t really remember what happened next. Maybe the woman had told me how she had died, but I don’t know. Had she done it herself? But she would have left a letter or something, wouldn’t she? Or was it possible that she just left all behind, without a single thought or regret? I can’t believe it.
No one knew about us. I wasn’t even invited to the funeral. The lady never called back. I guess Mist had told no one, and she must have removed all my messages and calls. Why? I don’t know why. She kept it secret, apparently. Because no one knew about our dearest moments. And suddenly, it was all over. She had gone. Left everything behind, including me.

Why? Why would she hide me, hide us? I asked myself this all the time, and realised once more that the name I had given her fitted her so well. She was as elusive as mist. But is started to sound bitter. Why was I standing in the distance, covered in mist, invisible for the rest of the world? And yet, I still loved her. What else could it have been? What else could it be? The silence was killing me, and still is.

It feels like a part of you being ripped away, and for months, I felt a physical pain. My body hurt as much as what I will call my soul. I was restless. I was the survivor of Mist, and the only one who knew about that.

I still am.
And still I don’t know anything more. It still feels as if they have cut off my arms and my legs. It’s a sort of silence, a sort of homesickness, something you cannot explain.

In my world, words have become worthless, and so have I.

Mist (part 5)

Do I make it sound as if we were unhappy? If so, I give you the wrong impression. I’ve told you of the nights full of passion. Then she’d smile at me and I could feel her fragile shoulder blades and spine. We would ask each other cheesy questions, such as “What would you do if you had one more day to live?”
“I’d go running around. And you would have to accompany me”, she once said.
“Just running around?”
“And I’d be playing music all day long, and I’d hug everyone. I’d eat delicious things. But, actually, I would not be able to choose and then I’d just sit at home and regret spending my last day like that.”
I lay down again, so I could look her straight in her eyes.
“I’d accompany you anyway.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Other times we’d play silly games, which were so much fun. It mostly ended up with both of us trying to convince the other of our victory. In the end, we made up again, with the sweetest kisses and caresses. Sometimes, we resembled those silly books with love stories.

Other times, it was more like horror. In the darkness of the bedroom, we lived terrible moments. I remember one night when she suddenly kicked me. I woke up, confused and slightly shocked. She was pushing me away, and murmured something, still asleep I believe.
“Mist… Mist, what’s the matter?”
She opened her eyes, all scared and trembling.
“William?”
“Yes, I’m here. What’s going on? Why were you kicking me?”
“Was I?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but I -”
She was breathing heavily but irregularly, and I started to worry.
“I was dreaming”, she said.
“It’s okay”, I tried to comfort her. “Nevermind.”
“I’m sorry, William.”
She came closer and fell asleep in my arms.

Situations like this occurred more and more often. Some nights, I heard her breathing going wrong, and then I knew something would happen. Once, in the middle of the night, she jumped up, ready to run away, but she stumbled.
I jumped up too, and took her by her wrists.
“Mist! It’s okay!”
At that point, I was already getting used to her behaviour, so I was prepared. But not for this. Her eyes were wide open, she was shaking heavily, and she was fighting me off.
“Let me go!”
“Mist! It’s me!”
But she didn’t recognise me, she kicked me, twisted, turned. I was afraid to hurt her, and right when I thought I had to let her go, her breathing became heavier and she didn’t oppose anymore. It was like energy was flowing away, I could almost feel it.
“Let me go, let me go, let me go…”
“Mist, it’s me…”
“Just don’t… Don’t keep me here…”
“Lie down.”
“No.”
She started struggling again, but it was obvious that she lacked the strength to do so.
“No!”
“Lie down.”
“Don’t do it. I don’t want it!”
Her eyes were turning, she was growing weaker every second. Eventually, she had to lie down, because she had no more power to resist. I held her hands and waited. It took hours, it seemed, before she opened her eyes again and her breathing had returned to normal. She saw me and asked: “What’s happened?”
“You started panicking, I think.”
“I don’t have control anymore”, she sighed, before she fell asleep again.

The next day, she seemed to be exhausted.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Bad.”
“Do you remember what’s happened tonight?”
“Barely.” There was fear in her eyes. Then she placed her hand on my cheek. “I’ve changed you.”
“How?”
“I made you worried.”
“I am worried about you.”
“What have I done?”
“You kicked me, tried to fight me off.”
“I feel so haunted, William.”
“By what?”
“If only I knew!”
She sighed, and I embraced her, and I feared breaking her. She was so damn fragile, and I felt rude.
“Sometimes”, she murmured, “I’m so sick of the world.”

But when the sun returned, she changed again, and her face closed once more. I mean, she was still her very own self, her very own unique personality, but it was like the essence, the truth and thoughts were all locked up, only to be revealed in nightmares and fear during the night. It wasn’t just two sides. It was more like shadows that always surrounded her, but they were only visible at certain (terrifying) moments. However hard I tried to make them go away, I never succeeded. She smiled, she laughed, she was kind and funny, and yet…

One morning, I asked her: “Are you happy?”
“I will never be happy.”
“Why not?”
“Is it possible to be happy anyway?”
“Is it due to me?”
“To you?” She seemed to be surprised.
“Is it my fault? Am I forcing you? Am I too old for you?”
She said nothing, but she took my hand and held it with both her small and soft hands. For a moment, I was afraid she was going to say yes. What if, all that time, she actually didn’t want me? What if I…? I closed my eyes to chase the thoughts away.
“Never.”
“What?”
I opened my eyes again, only to see hers fixed on me.
“It’s never your fault, William.”
I could feel her rings, cold and hard on my hands, and yet so satisfying. They were a part of her. Anything that belonged to her was great to me. After all, my obsession had only become worse. She was different from what I had wished for, but she was better.
Yes, she was better than what I had imagined, even though it was terrible to see her fading away.

In the end, I believe I’d do it all over again. She made us suffer, but somehow, it was all worth it.

Mist (part 4)

No, it’s not possible that things just happen. That can’t be. But why would you wait if you know that eventually, it will happen anyway? That’s what I think she was thinking. Of course I could only guess. She was like a riddle I never solved. Closed. Locked up. It became clear once again when I woke up and she was gone. She simply wasn’t there. I kicked away the sheets and walked into the kitchen, with sleepy eyes and hurting heels. There she was, reading one of my books, in complete silence. She didn’t even look up.
I sat down next to her and said: “Good morning.”
“Hi”. She smiled shyly.
“You’re awake so early?”
“Yeah. Well.”
“Are you hugry?”
“Not really.”
“You like the book?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You can take it with you if you want.”
“Oh no, I would feel like a thief.”
“Why?”
“Just… You know…”
She wanted to rise, but I took her arm and said: “Now you’re the one being distant.”
For a second, maybe two seconds, she seemed a bit hurt, then she turned around and sighed. I let her go and after a few seconds, I followed her to the bedroom. She was changing clothes (I had given her a shirt to sleep in), and smiled when I entered.
“Are you cross with me?” she asked.
“No, of course not.”
“I don’t want to become a problem for you.”
“No, you won’t be.”
She embraced me and then sat down to put on her shoes.
“Shall I bring you home?”
“My bike, William.”
“Oh, yes, I see.”
“And I need some air.”

She left the house in a good mood, with a sweet kiss and the promise of meeting again. And everything seemd to be great and fantastic. I smiled like a fool when I entered the kitchen and got myself something to eat. I discovered that she had left her phone number in my phone, and she had called herself ‘Mist’, as I called her too. Life, at that point, couldn’t have been better.

I had seen but a small part of the shadows surrounding her. The next time she came over, things were different. It began good, she was so kind and funny, and everything was sweet and tender. We drank a glass of wine, talked about books and other stuff and we seemed so intelligent and profound. But during the night, I suddenly woke up and she wasn’t there anymore. I pushed myself up and tried to look around (it was so dark!). I didn’t hear a single thing. Yet she was gone. Where?
I waited a few seconds for her to return. She didn’t. I rose and walked into the kitchen. There was nothing but emptiness. Then I heard the whispers of a door being opened. I turned around and saw her, right there, with a confused look.
“Mist!” I said. “I was searching for you.”
“Searching? Why?”
“Because I didn’t know where you were.”
“I was afraid”, she murmured.
“Afraid of what?”
“Of getting closer.”
For a moment, there was silence.
“Why?”
She bit her lip, looked away and then, then her face changed, like it was closing and she was locking herself up, inside. It was a strange sight, and it confused me, almost scared me.
“I don’t know. Let’s go back”, she said, while taking my hand.
We returned.
She tried to hide behind me. She wanted to use me to protect her. I felt it in the way she lay next to me and held her breath.

Touching from a distant, Ian Curtis sang. It was perfect to describe what I felt. Once she closed, there was no way you could enter her thoughts. And that, that was scary and haunting and it made us suffer.

Because it only got worse. There were nights I heard her gasping for air, there were nights she pushed me away, that she ran away or that she didn’t sleep at all. There were other nights too, filled with passion and sweetness and kind words, excuses and apologies. But then again, it could all soon turn over and change into fear. I believe she was afraid of me. Not really afraid of me, but afraid that I would let her down. She was scared of handing over herself, I guess.

And I tried to comfort her, with all the patience one could ever have. When she pushed me away, still half asleep, I moved away. When she ran away, I stayed where I was and followed her after a few minutes. And yet I could not change it. I could see her closing herself, and I could do nothing.

Isn’t that cruel?

Mist (part 3)

The first time she entered my apartment, I was nervous. I pushed open the door, hit the light button and felt like a pedophile. For no reason at all, but still. When closing the door, I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone had noticed us. She noticed me being nervous.
“What are you so worried about?” she asked me.
“How did you notice that?”
“I have eyes”, she answered, as if it was that obvious. Later on, she told me that all the furniture and everything inside my apartment had told her so much about me. She was so attentive that she saw almost everything. When I saw her wandering through my apartment, I could see her ‘examining’ it. Carefully, she touched the couch, the doors, the table. That was the point where she really got to trust me. She told that a few weeks later on.
When she turned around and smiled at me, I offered her a glass of wine. She accepted it and sat down, as comfortable as if she was home. I sat down next to her, on a safe distance. You know, I was so scared to do something that would offend her…! So I didn’t dare to do anything at all. I just drank wine and talked about innocent things. And she didn’t do anything either. We seemed to be friends above all. Maybe that was the best thing we could do, I told myself. It was better, this distance, than anything else I dare not name, right?

And nothing happened. Seriously, she left my apartment in the same condition as she entered it. Nothing had happened. Nothing at all! She kissed my cheek when she left, that was everything. And she was the one doing it. I didn’t force her. Please believe me… She did it.

The next time though, things went differently. She was alone again, when she entered the cafe, and soon she asked to leave again.
“Why do you want to leave?” I asked her.
“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
Of course I wanted to.
“I was just wondering.”
“I don’t feel very well, that’s why.”
“Maybe it’s better to go home then.”
“William, I mean it, if you don’t want to-”
“No! Don’t get me wrong! I just… Nevermind. Shall we?” I stretched out my hand, which she barely touched, smiling stately. We left.

It really started when she wanted to leave. She stopped abruptly right in front of me when walking out of the door.
“Oh no.”
“What’s the matter?”
“No way.” There was such aversion in her voice that I got worried. “Look.
So I looked. It was raining so terribly hard that I directly understood why she looked so disgusted.
“I’m not going through this.”
“But you have to get home.”
“I’m not doing it.”
She wasn’t doing it, that was clear.
“I can drive you home”, I said.
“But what about my bike? I need it.”
“It will fit in”, I said.
“Will it?” she asked, critically looking at me.
“I can try”, I answered without any conviction.
“No”, she said. “I will stay here.”
We went to take a look at my car anyway, but it became clear that her bike would not fit in.
“It’s okay. There’s no one home now, I won’t be missed. Can I stay here?”
“Eh… Uh, of course, if you want to. I can sleep in the couch or somewhere else, I will find a place…”
“No, no. William, can’t I sleep with you?”
“With me?” I said. I started to feel uncomfortable and well, not too well.
“I’m afraid of the dark.”

And like this, dear reader, we ended up in the same bed. Distance, distance, distance, it hammered in my head. She took my hand and looked me in the eyes.
“You’re always so distant, William. But I know… I know that it’s not real.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you distant?”
“I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of you.”
She smiled, then looked away, caressed my hand.
“But I know you wouldn’t do that. Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do. Do you trust me?”
She trusted me. She embraced me and I heard her murmuring something that sounded like ‘it was no coincidence. I saw you looking at me’.

She decided to use me as a living pillow. Without me having anything more to say, she lay her head on my shoulder and asked: “Will you save me from the dark and the nightmares?”
“Of course. Don’t be afraid.”
“No. Okay. I won’t.”

And then… Then things more or less seemed to happen without us asking or demanding or whatever… Is it possible that some things just have to happen?

 

Mist (part 2)

It took us two weeks to see each other again. Two weeks of endless desire and attempts to convince myself that my fantasy made her better, that reality would be disappointing. I did my best to forget her, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t! I had fallen in love before, and every time it felt like I’d never felt it before.
This time though, it felt really different. It wasn’t really love (how could I have said that after only one encounter?), it was ‘intruigedness’. Of all things, it resembled obsession the most. I know that it sounds bad. I’m telling the truth though, and this is what it is. How should I have forgotten or denied? You cannot control the mind, nor did I have anything to say to mine. You can’t decide what you think, what you dream of.

But it took us two weeks to visit the same place again. I was standing there, more or less desperately seeking for her, when she pushed the door open and walked in, behind her friends. She passed by.
“Hi, guardian angel”.
I breathed deeply.
“Anytime.”

She walked on.

I won’t tell you everything that happened in between. After that very short but satisfying conversation, it took us more than a month to see each other again. More than a month! We said ‘hi’ or something else, but we were never able to talk longtime. Reality wasn’t disappointing. I could never guess how she would act, what she would say. Enigmatically. Very enigmatically.
As I said, this situation lasted for more than a month. But then, one night, she walked in, all alone, straight up to me. Her cheeks were blushing due to the cold. I was stunned.
“Will you still be my guardian angel?”
“Yes… Yes, of course.”
“I’d like a beer.”
I bought her a beer. She sat down next to me. I was stunned. Simply stunned and overwhelmed.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, all confusion.
“Sometimes, things seem to turn out the wrong way. I needed some distraction.”
“Oh… okay.”
“Thanks for the beer. I can pay you back, if you’d like to.”
“I’d be offended.”
“I’ll never offer again”, she smiled.
“Are you alone?”
“I brought all of my personalities.”
“Oh… That will be fun.”
“So tell me, what were your plans for the night before I was blown in by the wind?”
“Nothing really. Drinking beer.”
“Nothing more exciting? I was planning on some unicorn riding. But the weather’s way too bad. Unicorns are fragile.”
“Are they?”
“I’m talking nonsense. Forgive me.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Am I not?”
“I mean, yes, you are, but it’s okay.”
“I need more people like you.”
“Like me?”
“People who believe that unicorns exist.”
“You could make me believe anything”, I said laughing. She looked me straight in the eyes.
“Can I?”

Just to show you what she was like. She’d save herself out of any situation with nothing but words and her intelligence. Next to that, she seemed to be interested in certain things I said, such as that she could make me believe anything. I don’t know why. I never really got her. But that evening, she stayed longtime, and we talked, and I neglected my friends. But I saw them looking at me, and Lisa smiled at me like she wanted to say ‘I see what you’re doing there!’. They must have understood what was going on.
But she didn’t care.

It was that night that she said: “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want the night to end. I know it sounds terribly corny. Will you stay here for me?”
“Why don’t you want to go home?”
“If I do so, I’ll remain my old self. I want to be different when I go home.”
“What are you saying? What will make you different then?”
“I don’t want to go”, she sighed. “Can’t I go home with you?”
What can you say when your latest obsession invites herself to your house? Should I have refused? Maybe I should have done so.

But I didn’t.

I did try to change her mind, though. I convinced her that my place wasn’t anything special, that she had to go home anyway, that I’d bring her home instead of taking her with me. She was silent all the time, except when saying: “Please.” “I could be damn raper! A murderer! You should be afraid of me!” I said. “How many times have you begged someone to take him with you?”
“Not once”, she answered. “I haven’t asked anyone to do that. I only ask you.”
“But why?”
“Can I trust you?”
“You can, but you can’t be sure of that! I mean it, what I wasn’t reliable?”
“But you are. I know you are.”
“I mean it”, I said. “I don’t know why you ask me that. I really don’t know.”
She said nothing anymore. She just looked at me, and eventually smiled.
“Would a murderer¬† have tried to keep me away from his house, you think?”
I smiled too. “No. He would have praised all the gods for your naivity.”

I found out that her parents were gone for the weekend, so that there was no one waiting for her at home. That was the reason she could do anythign she wanted, such as seducing old men. I also found out that she was testing me. But I passed the test and took her with me.

I know, I know. What was I thinking?