Another Face
I woke up later than I was accustomed to feeling both at ease and not, since my year long backache had vanished but another had entered into my left knee. I inspected it and in the dim light of my bedroom I found an old scar I had never before been aware of having. This caused me to suspect I was still dreaming, but after getting up and turning on the light the feeling of reality convinced me I was after all awake.
Yet in that same moment I had wished I were asleep because when I looked down on my naked self I recognized nothing. This was indeed most horrid and now I find it hard to describe exactly the panic that flushed through me and I rushed desperately to the bathroom to see... cause in it I had a mirror and that mirror would explain all. And so it did.
I saw the reflection.
The reflection of a man and a face I did not know and have never seen, and it disgusted me. Intrigued me. And put the violent fear in me. I let my (but it wasn’t mine) hand touch the reflective surface, stained by the brushing of ones teeth, so I could feel the other face of that other man. The glass was cold and so was I, whoever I now was?
I got dressed and thus finding that everything I possessed was still mine, except for the curious fact that my clothes were of a different size to fit this new body I had entered.
Now in my suit I grabbed the tie for the day and returned to the mirror where I was reminded of my situation, which I had forced myself to forget, and I decided to put the tie on without any visual aids. Someone knocked on the door. I placed my hand on the lock to undo it and froze.
If I weren’t I then whoever was on the other side of the door would realize that too, and if it was someone who I knew then they would find it strange that this other man was in my flat. How could I explain? I wouldn't believe it. How could anyone else? I must surely be dreaming, but the metallic surface of the lock felt so real. Another knock.
“It’s me,” a female voice said and it wasn’t familiar to me. “I know you’re in there,” the voice continued. At this point I decided to open the door. Perhaps whoever I was about to meet could shed some light on my situation, and if need be I could always come up with some string of lies. I was after all a salesman and a good one at that.
The woman was dressed in a very smart outfit, which implied not only power, but dedication as well. It was all black and well ironed. The head was symmetrically shaped and this led of course to her beauty. Her long dark hair was placed in a tight knot and she had covered her face in a strict make-up. She seemed young, but old enough not to be perceived as young.
“Are you insane?” she said and I didn’t know what to reply. I hadn’t expected such an introductory line and quickly understood that I didn’t know who she was, but that she knew who I was. This new me that I had involuntarily become. This, of course, lead to a great deal of paranoid suffering.
“We’ve got to go now!” she continued.
“Where?” I asked.
“Emmett,” she said hitting me in the head with an open hand and I stumbled, “don’t fuck with me! Get your coat; it’s cold out there. And hurry!” I did what she said, even putting on a pair of gloves made from some animal.
Winter had come and the biting air instantly got to my nose and it turned red. The woman marched in a very agile speed considering the high heels she was wearing. Napoleon complex I guessed because as I inspected her body, as we walked, I realized she was in fact much shorter than she had at first seemed. It had all been in the shoes. And the heels were sharp and so was the noise they produced. I wondered if she’d pierced anything with them? She looked the type.
In fact the more I studied her the more I became certain that she was a very hard and mean individual capable of anything.
“Don’t slack!” she commanded and I quickened my pace. We turned and walked down a street I had never before used, even though it laid close to my abode. Where were we going? And why? She had distracted me long enough. I stopped and so did she.
“In the back,” she said and I felt she had done it again. Confused and commanded me at the same time. She opened a car door and I understood I had stopped by her car, and I cursed myself for implying to her that I knew who she was and what vehicle she drove in - and by doing so confirming that I was this new I, which I wasn’t.
The engine coughed and roared into life, and with great skill she drove off in high speed.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Don’t be silly,” a male voice said and I almost shrieked aloud. I hadn’t seen him. The man in the passenger seat was dressed in the same outfit as the woman, but accustomed to his sex and without the shoes. Maybe he wished he could have such high heels because he was also very short? Perhaps they were married? They looked like a match. Or partners... the police? Agents? Two bankers?
I looked around in the car but I couldn’t spot any clues.
“Please,” I began leaning forward so they could hear me above the traffic, “who are you two? I only wish you would tell me.”
The man looked at me turning his head and the woman inspected me through the rear-view mirror, which she adjusted to capture my questioning face. But it wasn’t mine!
“Emmett, are you drunk?” the man asked.
“Just tell me, it would make everything so much easier. And once you’ve done that then tell me who I am, or more exactly whom you think I am because I’m not. And this Emmett you speak of, well that’s not me. My name is...”
Suddenly I had gun in my face.
“Take it,” the man urged and I did, “it’s loaded... here screw this on.” I was presented with a silencer. “That’s Josephine, remember your sister. And I am your friend Gill. And you... You are Emmett!”
“I have never seen either of you in my life!” Gill placed his hand on my forehead.
“Do you have a fever?”
“I think I might have a very lucid dream... that I cannot control... are we going to the office?”
“What?”
“Where are we going?” I repeated. Gill laughed and Josephine slapped him on the shoulder. She was indeed very violent.
“Something is wrong. You do the job Gill. He’s all fucked up.”
“What job?” I asked.
“No, it will bring him back to his senses,” Gill said ignoring my question, which I asked again and adding: “And what do you two do? Are you hit men or something?”
“See,” Gill said cheerfully, “he’s better already.” The car stopped.
“Two floors up, first door on the left,” Josephine informed.
“27B,” Gill added and I suddenly found myself out on the street in front of a building I had never seen before, in a part of the city I had never visited.
Gill rolled down his window.
“Remember the boss wants one in the head and two in the heart. Hurry, we’ll keep the car running.” I felt the gun in my hand again, forgetting I had it, and I quickly slipped it into my right coat pocket, which was large enough.
I entered the building mainly to get out of the cold, but also to study the two gangsters I had got mingled up with. This new face of mine must belong to a vile son of a bitch going around killing people for drug money no doubt. Not that I had anything against drugs. I myself used cocaine quite frequently. Too much sometimes I must admit. And it made me popular at the office and aided me in my work. The only real drawback was that it sometimes caused me monetary problems, but I had a big sale coming up soon so that issue would within days be a settled affair.
I caressed the gun and wished I had some coke now. In fact I must confess I did like the gun. I had never held one before. And I enjoyed the concept of being a hit man, a gangster. There was something romantic in that.
Actually whoever I had become was really a very cool person. Someone people respected and feared, maybe even in the Family or soon to be initiated. But my new face didn’t look Italian.
I peered up the stairs and decided to play along. My life was a dull one and I have no family, now at least I possessed a sister and a friend that seems friendly enough.
The steps creaked and I tried to sneak upwards as carefully as I could. I found 27B instantly and I searched for a name on the door. There was none. I knocked holding the gun tight in my hand within the coat pocket. A door chain unchained and the door itself swung open.
In front of me stood a man that I had not expected to meet. It was I! Or it was someone with my face. Perhaps even the one I had become. Yes, I was I with his face and he was he with my face. That would be the most logical explanation.
“Hi...” he said and I noticed how mundane he looked and how pointless he was, and how dead the dreams in his eyes had become. Really it was a service both to him and to me. Surely it wasn’t murder, more like suicide. I extracted the gun and when he, or I, saw it he said:
“I’m gonna have money soon, please give me a couple of days...”
Bang!
3 Jan 2000 - 22 Jan 2004
Yet in that same moment I had wished I were asleep because when I looked down on my naked self I recognized nothing. This was indeed most horrid and now I find it hard to describe exactly the panic that flushed through me and I rushed desperately to the bathroom to see... cause in it I had a mirror and that mirror would explain all. And so it did.
I saw the reflection.
The reflection of a man and a face I did not know and have never seen, and it disgusted me. Intrigued me. And put the violent fear in me. I let my (but it wasn’t mine) hand touch the reflective surface, stained by the brushing of ones teeth, so I could feel the other face of that other man. The glass was cold and so was I, whoever I now was?
I got dressed and thus finding that everything I possessed was still mine, except for the curious fact that my clothes were of a different size to fit this new body I had entered.
Now in my suit I grabbed the tie for the day and returned to the mirror where I was reminded of my situation, which I had forced myself to forget, and I decided to put the tie on without any visual aids. Someone knocked on the door. I placed my hand on the lock to undo it and froze.
If I weren’t I then whoever was on the other side of the door would realize that too, and if it was someone who I knew then they would find it strange that this other man was in my flat. How could I explain? I wouldn't believe it. How could anyone else? I must surely be dreaming, but the metallic surface of the lock felt so real. Another knock.
“It’s me,” a female voice said and it wasn’t familiar to me. “I know you’re in there,” the voice continued. At this point I decided to open the door. Perhaps whoever I was about to meet could shed some light on my situation, and if need be I could always come up with some string of lies. I was after all a salesman and a good one at that.
The woman was dressed in a very smart outfit, which implied not only power, but dedication as well. It was all black and well ironed. The head was symmetrically shaped and this led of course to her beauty. Her long dark hair was placed in a tight knot and she had covered her face in a strict make-up. She seemed young, but old enough not to be perceived as young.
“Are you insane?” she said and I didn’t know what to reply. I hadn’t expected such an introductory line and quickly understood that I didn’t know who she was, but that she knew who I was. This new me that I had involuntarily become. This, of course, lead to a great deal of paranoid suffering.
“We’ve got to go now!” she continued.
“Where?” I asked.
“Emmett,” she said hitting me in the head with an open hand and I stumbled, “don’t fuck with me! Get your coat; it’s cold out there. And hurry!” I did what she said, even putting on a pair of gloves made from some animal.
Winter had come and the biting air instantly got to my nose and it turned red. The woman marched in a very agile speed considering the high heels she was wearing. Napoleon complex I guessed because as I inspected her body, as we walked, I realized she was in fact much shorter than she had at first seemed. It had all been in the shoes. And the heels were sharp and so was the noise they produced. I wondered if she’d pierced anything with them? She looked the type.
In fact the more I studied her the more I became certain that she was a very hard and mean individual capable of anything.
“Don’t slack!” she commanded and I quickened my pace. We turned and walked down a street I had never before used, even though it laid close to my abode. Where were we going? And why? She had distracted me long enough. I stopped and so did she.
“In the back,” she said and I felt she had done it again. Confused and commanded me at the same time. She opened a car door and I understood I had stopped by her car, and I cursed myself for implying to her that I knew who she was and what vehicle she drove in - and by doing so confirming that I was this new I, which I wasn’t.
The engine coughed and roared into life, and with great skill she drove off in high speed.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Don’t be silly,” a male voice said and I almost shrieked aloud. I hadn’t seen him. The man in the passenger seat was dressed in the same outfit as the woman, but accustomed to his sex and without the shoes. Maybe he wished he could have such high heels because he was also very short? Perhaps they were married? They looked like a match. Or partners... the police? Agents? Two bankers?
I looked around in the car but I couldn’t spot any clues.
“Please,” I began leaning forward so they could hear me above the traffic, “who are you two? I only wish you would tell me.”
The man looked at me turning his head and the woman inspected me through the rear-view mirror, which she adjusted to capture my questioning face. But it wasn’t mine!
“Emmett, are you drunk?” the man asked.
“Just tell me, it would make everything so much easier. And once you’ve done that then tell me who I am, or more exactly whom you think I am because I’m not. And this Emmett you speak of, well that’s not me. My name is...”
Suddenly I had gun in my face.
“Take it,” the man urged and I did, “it’s loaded... here screw this on.” I was presented with a silencer. “That’s Josephine, remember your sister. And I am your friend Gill. And you... You are Emmett!”
“I have never seen either of you in my life!” Gill placed his hand on my forehead.
“Do you have a fever?”
“I think I might have a very lucid dream... that I cannot control... are we going to the office?”
“What?”
“Where are we going?” I repeated. Gill laughed and Josephine slapped him on the shoulder. She was indeed very violent.
“Something is wrong. You do the job Gill. He’s all fucked up.”
“What job?” I asked.
“No, it will bring him back to his senses,” Gill said ignoring my question, which I asked again and adding: “And what do you two do? Are you hit men or something?”
“See,” Gill said cheerfully, “he’s better already.” The car stopped.
“Two floors up, first door on the left,” Josephine informed.
“27B,” Gill added and I suddenly found myself out on the street in front of a building I had never seen before, in a part of the city I had never visited.
Gill rolled down his window.
“Remember the boss wants one in the head and two in the heart. Hurry, we’ll keep the car running.” I felt the gun in my hand again, forgetting I had it, and I quickly slipped it into my right coat pocket, which was large enough.
I entered the building mainly to get out of the cold, but also to study the two gangsters I had got mingled up with. This new face of mine must belong to a vile son of a bitch going around killing people for drug money no doubt. Not that I had anything against drugs. I myself used cocaine quite frequently. Too much sometimes I must admit. And it made me popular at the office and aided me in my work. The only real drawback was that it sometimes caused me monetary problems, but I had a big sale coming up soon so that issue would within days be a settled affair.
I caressed the gun and wished I had some coke now. In fact I must confess I did like the gun. I had never held one before. And I enjoyed the concept of being a hit man, a gangster. There was something romantic in that.
Actually whoever I had become was really a very cool person. Someone people respected and feared, maybe even in the Family or soon to be initiated. But my new face didn’t look Italian.
I peered up the stairs and decided to play along. My life was a dull one and I have no family, now at least I possessed a sister and a friend that seems friendly enough.
The steps creaked and I tried to sneak upwards as carefully as I could. I found 27B instantly and I searched for a name on the door. There was none. I knocked holding the gun tight in my hand within the coat pocket. A door chain unchained and the door itself swung open.
In front of me stood a man that I had not expected to meet. It was I! Or it was someone with my face. Perhaps even the one I had become. Yes, I was I with his face and he was he with my face. That would be the most logical explanation.
“Hi...” he said and I noticed how mundane he looked and how pointless he was, and how dead the dreams in his eyes had become. Really it was a service both to him and to me. Surely it wasn’t murder, more like suicide. I extracted the gun and when he, or I, saw it he said:
“I’m gonna have money soon, please give me a couple of days...”
Bang!
3 Jan 2000 - 22 Jan 2004
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