01

Milan,

You probably won't read this little note because I'm not even sure I really write it, but whatever. Come get me please. I can't find my way back without you. I call you so loudly in my dreams that I don't understand why you can't hear me. Just strum a few notes on your guitar and I'll follow them. I just need your fingers on the strings and your voice invading my mind. Please, I'm waiting for you.

Beep... beep... beep... beep... beep... beep

A black hole. A hole. An endless tunnel. No light. Only a long path tinted with black.

I am dizzy in this immensity. I'm just a grain of sand in the alternate universe that took me in and damn it, I hate that! I'm not the type to let myself down but there, I no longer have a weapon. I'm locked up in this scary bunker and my brain has totally freaked out. I distinguish shadows, streaks of light then shapes but nothing makes sense. I think I'm going crazy.

Beep... beep... beep... beep... beep... beep

Damn, what is that repetitive noise? I must open my eyes. I have to stop this unbearable machine that gets on my nerves. Come on Ema, take your courage in both hands and act! I try to reach out, I force, I concentrate but nothing helps. I haven't moved and that damn gizmo keeps beeping. No, but what exactly is happening to me? If it's a joke, it's really not funny. I have to remember if I took something wrong yesterday... I thought I was done with this bullshit since the last time Milan picked me up in a bad state. Anyway... if it's because of a bloody drug, I just have to wait a few hours and the problem will be solved.

Beep... beep... beep... beep... beep... beep

I stop trying in vain to control my body and I dive back. I float in this dark passage. I twirl, I chain the loops sometimes with the head in bottom, sometimes with the arms in the air and I quickly have the nausea. I never liked thrill rides. I always pretended to stand up to my little brother who constantly called me a wimp. And like an idiot, I went into his game, I gritted my teeth and proudly lifted my chin. I'd settle into the seat, never taking my eyes off him, and then spend the next three minutes staring straight ahead while planning my revenge down to the smallest detail. So today that I am stuck in my own mind inflicting this torture on myself, you will understand that I am a little worried about what is happening to me. Because let's be honest, I would never have gotten into this mess on my own.

Beep... beep... beep... beep... beep... beep

Ok, this time it's too much. Concentrate two seconds Ema and reach out that fucking arm! I try. I try with all my strength but nothing moves. This crazy story is getting downright creepy! Well... there's no point in getting upset. I focus more intensely on my limbs and the effect I feel is like being stabbed in the heart. Not that I know what it feels like to get stabbed, but that feeling of emptiness is the worst thing I've ever felt. My body is dead weight. I try with all my strength to move my toes, my fingers, my arms or my legs but nothing happens. I'm a stone statue that unknowingly hosts a totally stoned mind.

Beep... beep... beep... beep... beep... beep

I worry. That's it, it takes me back. Like when I was younger and couldn't control my fears anymore. I took refuge in my room and hid under the sheets. I counted to a hundred and I waited I waited I waited. This routine was my oasis in times of crisis until Milan found me curled up. Since that day, my routine has become useless. It was replaced by my friend's piercing eyes whose light blue enveloped me in its anesthetic smoothness and by his hand molded especially for mine. Yes, because otherwise how do you explain that his simple touch makes my deepest fears fly away? I was seven years old when I discovered its super power and I have never been able to do without it since.

Beep... beep... beep... beep... beep... beep

The sound of a door slamming makes me jump. Finally... startled is a very big word insofar as I still haven't moved an inch. Let's say my heart raced. Well, I believe ? In short, I still hear footsteps, breathing around me but everything is drowned in a mist of cotton. I think people are talking, I think they are touching me, I even think I am answering them, but in reality, I am still a prisoner of my body. No question that I let myself go. I am not a weakling who collapses at the first obstacle. I take a deep breath - well, I feel like I do - and I try to move again.

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