Based on an actual dream lived in November 2019 by Salomé D.
Okay. What the hell am I doing here?
I sigh while stuffing my hands in my pockets. Darkish and orangey colours, a suffocating atmosphere, and granite. Well, I appear to have found myself in a middle of a vast volcano cave. Sure. I end up looking down, for some reason.
Oh, okay.
Right, so... I'm actually on a precarious rocky sculpted bridge, approximatively fifty feet from lava. Great. I take another shy look downwards, but the sight of molten magma and its creepy bubbles makes me sick, or very afraid - actually, probably both.
"Neat..."
My voice echoes gently as I look up to the path in front of me. It's surrounded with stalagmites. Stalactites? I don't know. Who cares? There are a lot of them, both on the ground and the ceiling. Besides, Mario's here. Yeah, THE Mario, the one from the videogames. He's the boss of my gang.
Oh, right: I'm in a gang.
He's got that dark and self-assured look on his face. All of the sudden, that psycho starts jumping and bouncing towards me, kicking the air like he's in Tekken. I take a step back and frown, wondering why he would do that. Also, how in the world can he manage to sneak through the stalagmites so easily?
The next second, I'm in Paris. We're in a line in Le Marais, waiting our turn to order falafels. When I say "we", I mean myself and the rest of the gang. It's all chitchat and small talk, until a guy around my age gives me a nudge in the ribs while nodding towards the beginning of the line:
"You see that girl over there?"
I wasn't really expecting any rando to actually talk to me, so my first reaction was to stare weirdly at him while frowning. Yeah, I'm not good with strangers. Never mind, I follow his gaze, stretching my neck to spot the girl. Once I have, I just let him know by grunting:
"Hm?"
He starts laughing in that particular way guys do when they're making up fantasies in their heads. I'm not judging; I have that exact same laugh sometimes.
"She's super hot, right?"
I glance at his stupid smirk, then back at the girl. As much as my antisocial self hates to agree with such a guy, I do have to admit: she looks really good.
"Well, yeah."
He giggles and carries on with that special tone of "I'm so gonna enlighten your world with my incredible knowledge":
"But like, actually, her face is completely melted! What you see is just a kind of mask or fake skin to cover up the mess."
... Okay. Now, that is some very strange thing to say to someone you've just met, Kevin. I sigh without taking my eyes off of her. There's no hint to whether she wears a mask or else, but somehow I believe him. What caught my eye is that she seems rather happy. I blink and next thing I know, I'm next to her.
Don't ask me why or how, but we're together - her and I. Yeah, yeah, ever since I appeared at her side, literally thirty seconds ago. Gotta deal with that, now. I guess it's pretty cool; I didn't have to flirt with her. Because, oh boy! how I suck at that. But it doesn't matter anymore: that girl is my girlfriend. My girlfriend whose melted face is hidden under fake skin and who's part of the same gang lead by Mario as I am. What a mess. I didn't even get to eat those falafels.
I complain, but it's mostly to cover the fact that I'm freaking out about her face. It's dumb, I know. And who cares? As much as I want to see it, I just can't help myself to worry about it. Next scene, we wake up in a bed together, and I panic.
Shit! Shit-shit-shit-fuuuuuuuck! She must've taken it off to sleep!
I do not dare to look directly at her, worried that I might make her feel uncomfortable doing so. Why, of course, I'm frozen in an awkward anxious half stare, so I'm pretty positive that I'm not putting her at ease. Good job, me! My whole body is tense, struck by hesitation and clumsiness, as I finally lock eyes with her face - the real one. I immediately release the tension, and even a nervous dummy laugh.
Cool.
From what I can see, there is simply a large part of her face that is red, delimited by a cartoon-ish scar just like Frankenstein's. I freaked out over nothing, once again. Anyway, I don't have time to think about my own stupidity: we're late. We have a mission to complete.
The Wachowski sisters must have probably mingled and played with my closet, because I'm suddenly dressed as a character from The Matrix. I mean, I'm definitely not going to complain: I look hella badass! That's how we end up strolling in a supermarket with style. The location is boring, but the mission is quite simple: fetch an artifact. Which one? I honestly have no idea.
We teleport, and shit! I had no idea I could do something like that, or that it was even possible! It's so cool! I gush, totally euphoric: I always dreamt of having a superpower! On the other hand, I never explicitly dreamt of teleporting into a fridge. Confused, I wince at my girlfriend.
"Is that... is that our hideout?"
She stays silent, completely focused on glaring at the fridge in front of ours. Following her hostile gaze, I notice two other guys: enemies from the rival gang. They glare back at us, and it appears to me that they've also chosen to hide in a fridge. Is it an actual thing? But, like, how-... why would someone-... it's not even efficient, everybody can see us through the glass door!
"Seriously, what's the deal with fridges?"
My eyes spot some movements on my right at the end of the alley. Being alert, I automatically turn my head in that direction, only to identify my girlfriend. Wait... Again, I turn my head to her previous location: next to me, where she no longer is. Shit! She teleported, and I'm the only idiot to wait around in a damn fridge! She's fighting a tall and bald man from the rival gang.
That's the guy from The Matrix, I think while squinting.
I teleport there to join the fight, but it all happens so quickly: the guy disappears barely five seconds after my arrival. First, I'm relieved - even though I get the feeling that he stole the artifact we were supposed to retrieve. Mario is going to kill us for losing it. Then, I face back towards my girlfriend, and instantly freeze. She's bleeding. Her shirt is covered in blood and there's a knife in her stomach.
"Shit!"
I catch her as she collapses to the ground. What do I do? Shit! Too much panic in me, I'm overwhelmed by fear and the sense of emergency. I'm considering taking the knife off, but won't I make it worse by doing so? A flash strikes my mind: oh my god! I suddenly remember that I can teleport. A snap of fingers later, we appear in a small, cluttered place with very few lighting. A hospital room, thank god! I sense a familiar feeling in the atmosphere. We might be back in that volcano cave.
I put her on the bed, noticing that she seems weaker and weaker by the second. I panic, but she remains rather calm about it. Even weirder: I'm absolutely certain she was stabbed in the stomach, so how come there isn't a wound there anymore and why is the knife in her neck now? I wince. I don't mean to sound short-sighted, but I don't think those things are supposed to move.
Never mind that, I hear people talking behind the door. I rush to it - of course it's locked. So, I bang on it.
"HEEEEEEEEEY!! PLEASE! Someone's hurt in here and need medical attention!"
They're really close, I can feel it. I'm convinced they can save her - and that they can hear me. So why are they ignoring my screams? I can hear them laughing, chitchatting and all.
"OI! I'M FUCKING TALKING TO YOU!"
I never had much patience. Especially when I have someone bleeding right beside me. Finally, a man opens the door. He's tall, bald - another one - and has wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. I squint.
That's... not the guy from The Matrix.
"Well-well-well! No need to shout like this, Miss."
I frown. He is way too calm for me. I point in the direction of my bleeding girlfriend while angrily staring at him.
"She's DYING!"
She actually looks as calm and composed as the doctor. Really? Can't anyone lose their shit with me? Apparently, no: he shrugs his shoulders and smiles.
"Okay, well, there's no reason to bang on that poor door. What happened?"
What happ-?... Is he kidding me? How can he be so laid-back! I'm this close to shout all of my anger and frustration at him. Instead, I take a deep breath and tell the story without trying to hide the irritation in my voice:
"We were hiding in a supermarket fridge when she teleported to fight a dude that kinda looks like you but not really and he stabbed her. In her stomach."
He stays silent for a few moments, watching the two of us. After a while, he points to the wound.
"I believe it's in her neck."
I sigh impatiently.
"Yeah well, it was in her stomach before."
He stares at me as if I were stupid, or crazy, or both.
"Right. But it's in the neck, now. We're gonna take care of it anyway."
He grabs the knife and softly pulls it out while I watch with discomfort. Then, he sprays some gauze with an antiseptic solution and just rubs it on the wound. I observe the whole scene, sceptical. Soon, she appears to be saved, though the medical care for such an injury seemed a bit too... light.
Is he shitting me?
My girlfriend smiles at me, looking perfectly fine and normal. The doctor turns to me.
"See? You didn't have to make a whole deal about it."
... I don't know what to say. I don't know what shows more on my face: the annoyance, the bewilderment or the lack of will to pursue whatever this is. I end up giving him a jaded look. I sigh, slowly shaking my head.
Fuck this.
At least, she's saved. I guess we just have to wait for Mario to come and pick us up, now.