Fiction Friday: Contraire.

Fiction Friday

So, this is my first blog post for the year and I’m beginning with something I just thought I’d start doing. I am a writer, a blogger, but I also write fiction stories too; so I decided to post short fiction stories every Friday, under the ‘ Fiction Friday’ page. Well, let’s get to it; this one is pretty confusing and intricate, feel free to ask questions or leave comments after reading. I call this one ‘Contraire’ which is ‘opposite’ in French.



The ripples, I can see them, can’t take my eyes off them, if not I might change my mind, I think it’s time, we all have our time, the chilly breeze seems to subtly urge me, but I think fear has locked my fingers to the metal, I do not belong in this world, so many thoughts, I should stop thinking, it never helps, I should just jump into this water and escape, escape to a different world where everything is less fucked up. How about I leave this decision to you, I will tell you my story and when I’m done; you decide if I jump, or not. I’ll start from the beginning.

Eighteen years ago, a tragic event occurred; I was born, after days of mourning, I finally got to see my mother, she was the ugliest woman in our town; not that I can remember though, I was a baby you see, but I was told about this event, that’s why I can narrate it to you. So, as I was saying my mother was incredibly ugly; and fortunately I got her looks, my dad wasn’t too ugly, but he was quite similar to my mom, perhaps that’s why they got married; I always wondered why anybody would partake in such a horrible event, willingly, this is me assuming they got married willingly. But yeah, when my mom saw me she was the angriest woman alive, there is a bit of hyperbole in there, but you get the point. For a while, raising me was so horrible for both my parents, but then later as I grew and began to talk and want things, things they usually couldn’t get; everything changed, they became happier.

When I was about eight-years-old; I started making my own memories, memories that stayed, so whatever I narrate to you from now, is my memory, and no one else’s. I remember loving school so much, I had no friends, I was always bullied, beaten up to a pulp, I’d go back home with a swollen jaw and my parents would rejoice. I was happier than my bullies, I loved them so much.

I turned seventeen, and on my birthday, the most amazing thing happened, my mom dropped dead, we laughed and laughed our hats off, I couldn’t sleep as I spent all night laughing, my dad too, the walls were very thin, so I could hear him from his room, I think it made me laugh more too, it was really the best night of my life. About two weeks later, my mom was buried, everyone laughed, it was an amazing event as everyone wore their whites; which was customary for burials, I think that was the only horrible thing about that day; the white dress code, it made the event look majestic.

Shortly after, I and my dad were doing really great, very happy too, we began to get close, which was something I didn’t really like, I was closer to my mom, my dad hardly ever spoke, which was why it was hard to connect with him, but now he was trying his worst, he spoke more to me, bought me more gifts and stuff like that. He was trying.

I think my mom’s death affected me positively, or perhaps negatively, I’m not sure; I had started fighting my lovely bullies, I was happier, and everyone loved me, I was always smiling, people stayed away from me, my days at school got worse. Before I knew it, I began skipping school, I would go into the forest and run around and make fires, count trees, this was the only time I felt truly angry.

One morning the most uninteresting thing I had ever experienced occurred; I was walking in the forest, as usual, then I noticed some sort of pod, it looked like an extremely advanced technology, very boring. I walked over to it, the glass had seemingly been cracked open, perhaps someone was in there, I contemplated and before I knew it something struck my head and I fell to the ground.

Moments later, when I woke up, I noticed I was tied to a tree, I tried to struggle but it was to no avail, I wasn’t scared. I looked up and saw this incredibly ugly girl, she seemed to be stirring something in a cup, she looked at me, I turned away. She got up and walked over me, she wore this sort of suit, it looked like what engineers wore or perhaps those racecar drivers. She pulled out a knife as she got closer, when I laughed she stopped. Looked at me, then said,
“See something funny?”
And I replied. “You just pulled a knife on me, what did you expect?
She seemed very perplexed.
“So, me pulling a knife on you, is funny?”
She didn’t even let me finish as she rushed to me and held the knife to my neck, I couldn’t help but laugh even more.
“Shut up!” She screamed, she seemed too happy. But I didn’t understand what I had done. “If you laugh one more time, I will slice you.”
“What? What do you expect me to do then?” I asked, very confused.
“I don’t know, beg? Cry?” She replied.
“Why would I do that? You hold a knife to my neck and expect me to cry?”
She stopped abruptly, took the knife off my neck, she looked up for a moment, perhaps she was thinking, then she ran towards the pod and brought out some sort of tablet, she hit the back of the tablet severally with her palms, then she asked if I had a phone with me, I said yes, then she searched me and pulled it out, took the battery out and inserted it into the tablet. A beep indicated it was on.
“Ohhh, I see what is going on here.” She smiled, not sure why she was smiling.
“What?” I asked.
“Contraire.” She smiled again.
I was so lucid I didn’t even know what was going on anymore, didn’t know if she was smiling, or why she was smiling, she was like nothing I had ever encountered.
“What is contraire?” I asked her.
“It’s French for ‘opposite’. I feel like your world is very different from mine, as it seems your ideologies and conceptions are very different from mine. Have you ever heard of Carl Sagan? Multiverse?”
“What is French? And who is Carl Sagan?” I implored.
“French is a language spoken by people from France. My mom was from France, my dad was from Canada, they met in France and had me there.”
“So, you’re from France? Is that why you’re like this?”
“I’m from another Earth, apparently. An earth where people don’t laugh when they have a knife to their neck.” She chuckled when she said this.
She then untied me and asked how old I was. I told her my age and she told me she was 21. She asked if I could bring back tools for her, so she could repair her pod, I agreed.

The next day I returned with my dad’s toolbox. He would be very happy if he found out that I took it without permission, but it bothered me, I think I actually didn’t like this girl, she didn’t tell me her name, I was gonna ask her.
“You came back.” She seemed angry, or excited, my language has changed, and it’s all because of this girl, I will get to that later on.
“Yes, I did.” I frowned. “What’s your name?”
“Jeanne.” She frowned back, or smiled? “Yours?”
“Hollis.” I replied.
I kept returning to her every day, didn’t even think about school anymore, I began to change too. I began to laugh at her jokes, the way I spoke also changed. One day, I even cried over my mother, I didn’t know what was going on with me, but I kept on returning to her, and she told me stuff, stuff I never knew. This one time I was having breakfast with my dad, and he made a joke, and I laughed instead of cry, he looked at me as if I was insane, perhaps I was going insane.

The last day I saw her, was the longest I spent with her. We laid down in the dirt together, holding each other, and then we kissed, for a while. It was the most horrible, sorry the most beautiful day of my life. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. At that moment, I wish it didn’t ever end. But then she said I better head home before someone begins to look for me. And I did, I went back home, and the next morning, when returned, she had disappeared, the pod was gone, only the toolbox and a note that read ‘I will always love you’ was left behind.

The days after this was horrible! Not beautiful, horrible! Everything began to come back to me, my mother’s death, the number of times I had been beaten up in school; and it felt like my entire life was a farce. It felt like two different worlds were fighting in my head, and I was embracing the one in which Jeanne had left me with.

I decided to not hold back anymore, I began to think and act like Jeanne, I didn’t care what anyone thought anymore; I would laugh at jokes, cry when I was sad, and fume when I was angry. My dad couldn’t take it anymore, he found out that I wasn’t going to school anymore, coupled with my ‘crazy’ behaviour, I was shipped off to a mental institution.

I spent a couple of months there, as they pumped me full with drugs that made me feel funny all the time. But then, I couldn’t take it anymore, I was changed, and I just couldn’t return to who I was; my whole internal world was altered by Jeanne and it affected the external world, my ideologies and reality were different. There was no going back, it was like an ancient being discovering fire, there was no turning back now. So, I decided to escape and after weeks of planning, I finally did. I ran as fast as I could, it was so exciting, so thrilling, I felt like I was with Jeanne again, I ran and ran, until I saw a bridge, I climbed on top of it, as I was sure that they were still pursuing me. Then I looked down and saw the calming ripples of the water. I can hear them coming, with dogs, I can hear their barks. Now, tell me; do I live in a world where I will be branded as crazy because I see things differently? Do I wear white to burials? Do I cry when I’m happy? Do I laugh when someone I know and love dies? Even if it goes against my reality? Do I live in a world where my mind would be caged up and filled with drugs? Or do I jump down this bridge right now, and be free? Please tell me quickly, I can hear the dogs.






So that’s it the end. Tell me what you think, ask what you don’t understand and I will do my best to provide an appropriate response.



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