Coma. Federico Betti

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СКАЧАТЬ one by choice and the other one by constraint, and their bond was always stronger and well-founded.

      Although they never thought of living together, they met each other habitually every day anyways. Only in some cases of impossibility due to the events, could happen that in one week they wouldn’t meet for seven days in a row.

      They often had dinner together and, when they were both in agreement, they would also treat themselves with a dinner at a restaurant, choosing between several options that the city of Bologna and the near-by area offered to them.

      They were both passionate about ethnical cuisine, to alternate with the traditional one or to pizza, often to try different flavours and traditions: from the more popular Chinese restaurant to the Indian or the Greek, up to the restaurants less popular by the masses, like the African restaurant or the Persian one, every occasion was good to vary and taste unusual dishes.

      They agreed on many things, from the most important ones to the most trivial; they also had similar taste in music. Both Luigi and his brother liked almost every genre: one didn’t listen to house music because, according to what he said, it made him sleepy; the other one almost hated popular music, considering it inconsequential. He said that there’s music for every occasion and every kind of music generates different emotions depending on the genre; “The popular one doesn’t leave anything inside of you”, claimed the older brother.

      Thinking about all these things, looking at Luigi lying there motionless, he got a lump in his throat and could barely hold back his tears.

      “The time allowed for visits is over!” shouted a servant, waking him up from his thoughts.

      “I’ll go away immediately” answered Mario, walking towards the exit.

      When he arrived on the road, the darkness of the night wrapped him like a dark mantle.

      VI

      I’m driving, I don’t know where I am meant to go. Around me there’s only darkness. And there’s no one that could help me, no one that could make me understand something of what’s going on with me, no one that could give me clues. How long have I been here? I lost track of time.

      Sometimes I feel like being the main character of a freeze frame, then I realize I can somehow move. “Is there anybody?”, I try to ask, without getting any answer. I have confirmation that I’m alone. Inside a car, or some other vehicle? I didn’t understand that yet. Without other passengers, without other seats, without a gear shift. But with the steering wheel, that’s always in front of me.

      What’s happening to me? I don’t know, but I think that I don’t know a lot of things. Maybe I’m here by chance. I recall experiments with the time machine, even if I always thought that it was the result of the imagination of someone that wanted to create stories for some book or movie, where they’re catapulted in a far away world and time. What was that movie’s name? I can’t remember, maybe it will come to mind in a bit. Now, even if I make an effort, I can’t get anything from my memory. I can’t even understand how I feel, but it’s a weird feeling.

      There it is, my headache is back, my temples are pulsating, first on the right, then on the left, it’s a stronger pain than the other time. “Do you have a painkiller, please?”, but it was pointless because I know no one is going to answer. Anyway, I tried.

      Now I’m thinking that I may be the victim of some candid-camera: they call you with an excuse, they place you here in the dark, in this kind of car, and they leave alone waiting. “It’s a bad joke, you know?”, I say speaking to the void in front of me. I almost screamed it, because this situation is starting to wear me out. How long have I been here? “Come on, come clean! I know you’re hiding somewhere!”

      I don’t receive any answer, so I’m only left to wait.

      The wait is exhausting, I never waited so long. Still I can’t see anyone. It seems like they don’t want to show up. They are scared, or they are just bastards and they are making me a prank that I’m not enjoying at all.

      In traditional candid-cameras, if we can call them that way, everything is solved over the course of a few hours, or at least a day, but honestly, I feel like being in this place for a lot more time, but maybe I’m wrong. Deep down, I think that something happened to me, that made me become estranged; anyway, this is still a bad prank. You don’t do these kinds of pranks, not even to your worst enemy.

      I’m afraid of the dark, because to me it means uncertainty. Or, rather loss of certainty.

      I’m afraid of the dark and someone is playing on this, taking advantage of my weakness.

      I realize that he’s a coward, since he has no intention to make me recognize him. Whoever he is, he understood that I would tell him off, so he is careful not to show his face.

      “Is anybody there?”, I try to ask, tearing up the absolute silence that reigns in here. Still no answers. “Do you have a painkiller? My head’s hurting”, but clearly there is no one willing to hear me out. “Where are you? Show yourselves.”

      No one comes out, no one is coming here to me.

      What an ugly situation, I don’t like it at all.

      If at least I could notice any activity, I could try to understand who’s the guilty party of all of this; but I can’t see anyone.

      Thinking about it, I realize that everything is been the same since I found myself in here.

      Me, on a car seat, with a steering wheel in front of me and darkness all around. A darkness capable to swallow me.

      It could be a nice scene for a horror movie.

      I can already picture it. And maybe it would also be adequately promoted. “Ladies and gentlemen, please come along to the preview of the new horror movie. It will make your skin crawl! You aren’t some scaredy cats, are you? It arrived to all the theaters. Come along, come along, come along…”

      And I would be the main character. Lucky me! I would become famous, for heaven’s sake, but I’d rather do it in some other way.

      I’m wandering off a little bit, maybe to avoid thinking to what’s happening to me, maybe to let come to mind some idea to understand how to get away from this situation. And, just for a change, I can’t think of anything.

      “Is anyone there?”, I ask one more time, “I would need something to make this headache go away!”

      Nothing and no one.

      It’s discouraging, as a result.

      I have nothing left to do but to wait, wait for someone, wait for something to change.

      VII

      The days went by alike the ones to the others, with the doctors spreading confidence to Luigi’s brother: “You can see the improvements”, they said to him. “The patient is acting good. His body is reacting in a good way to the suffered trauma”.

      Mario was happy listening to these words, but after all he couldn’t wait to be witness of his brother’s awakening, to hug him again.

      He wanted to see him like he remembered him before the accident: he was always happy, lively and, most of all, he walked with his own legs.

      “He СКАЧАТЬ