Page Five: Confusion 

            The cold water felt good. The cold sinking in his skin had always felt good. Gon could feel his dark hair soaking and drinking in as much of the cold water as it could, surrounding themselves with the coldness that made them feel alive, awakening and looking out into the world in a different way, a silent space where thoughts surge out and tell you what to think, what to feel.

            Kara always hated cold water. She only endured them during her showers with Gon. She always bathed in hot water, the steam blurring the space of the bathroom with its mysterious white cloud, surrounding her and shielding her, as if she was a mystical Goddess in a time setting of fantasy. She always laughed when he said that. She always giggled with happiness when they were together alone. Gon loved her laughter, her giggles always warmed his heart. Maybe that’s why he loved cold water now than ever, for it now matched with the temperature of his heart, his sun.

            Gon always wondered if his love for Kara was real, as his relationship with her grew, and they started becoming closer more and more. Gon never understood why he had found her so beautiful, so attractive. Maybe he fell in love with her because she was the only girl who had ever been nice to him, the only one who had ever taken an interest in him.

            Yet he knew how much he truly loved her after she was gone, after he had sat outside of the police station’s dirty stone stairs, under the pouring storm rain. Not wanting to move. Not wanting to think. He had seen her body inside the police station, in that place where all the bodies are filed into cabinets of steel. Just like the police report files, these bodies were nothing more but work for the police officers that resided the station. The bodies were no longer humans, just a job they had to do in order to get paid.

            Everyone seems to be so trapped in their jobs, as if these define the voices and places that makes us belong in this world, Gon thought as he closed his eyes and lifted his face to the stream of freezing water. It didn’t mattered if he stayed in the shower for longer than an hour. The cold water wouldn’t run out and turn warm.

            “Smiling moves less muscle than frowning, you know?” Was what Kara always said to him to make him smile, as if that phrase meant anything at all.

            “Well, then that only means that I’m working out harder than you to stay in shape.” Gon smiled back, unable to resist Kara’s aura of energy. She was just too perfect. Way too perfect for Gon.

            Maybe that was why Kara loved track and field so much, for it let her expand her extra energies on something more than random dancing and shopping sprees. Gon loved to watch her practices, just seeing her running and jumping was all that Gon really needed to spend his lazy afternoons, when his head and eyes weren’t concentrated on the worlds he was creating.

            Kara participated in a lot of track and field events, even after she finished High School and worked full-time as a day-care center ‘Baby-caretaker’. She really didn’t need the money. Gon’s books were more than enough for that. She just loved kids, and she wanted one of her own. Gon had always told her to wait a while, to enjoy the days of youth a little longer, for they weren’t yet mature enough to handle a baby. Kara had always agreed with him after thinking about it for a few minutes. She had always agreed that they weren’t adult enough to be parents. Gon now regretted ever saying that.

             Although she graduated from their old High School, the Principal still allowed her to come back as a part-time assistant coach for the track and field team. She loved running and competing against the new athletes of the team, to see how full their potentials really were.

            The phone rang, the sound almost blocked out by the loud noises caused by the shower water crashing against Gon’s face. Gon opened his eyes as soon as he heard it, and slowly, unwillingly, closed the metal knobs that shut off the water from its spray.

            It was his Father, the cigarette smoker’s rough voice gave the identity of the voice away. “How are you doing down there, son.” The rough voice asked through the holes of the phone speaker, carried by miles and miles of telephone lines. The voice spoke in a language that used to be Gon’s, a language that belonged to his race, a language that he used to be proud of.

            “I’m okay.” Gon answered in English, as he sat down on the couch in the living room, the wireless phone feeling heavier for some reason. He turned on the TV with the touch of the red button on the half-flat black remote control. The screen flashed on with a light that seemed surrealistic, dream-like. “I’m okay in here.”

            “You sure?” That language again, one that belonged somewhere else.

            “Yeah.” Gon replied, once again in English. He flipped through the various shows that the channels offered, before he closed it again, the silence filling the dark room. “I’m okay.”

            “Okay, your Mom just wanted me to call you to make sure that you were alright down there.”

            “Okay.” Gon answered, as his eyes blankly stared at the black screen of the non-active television. “Zya, mata.”

            “Bye.” The voice on the other end replied, now in English. The dial tone came on after a few seconds, as Gon sat still in the darkness, the phone still in his hand. He wondered when Lynn was coming back from her shopping trip. He wanted to see her. He wanted to be with her. He didn’t want to be alone.

            Gon couldn’t remember when he had become so distant from his parents, that they seemed as close to him as a stranger on the sidewalks of some unknown street. Maybe the reason that he couldn’t remember, was because they were never close to start with. They were just too busy with their works, leaving him alone in the house ever since he was five. The darkness felt warm in those nights alone, the cold of the water feeling nice, reminding him that he was alive, not a figure or a robot, an inanimate thing.

            They were always too busy, the only reason they spoke to him was because he got a good grade, and the only reason they yelled at him was because he had a bad grade. Maybe that’s why Gon always brought home so many good grades, for they bought him a chance to talk to his parents, to feel close to them. Gon could never remember the faces of his parents in his mind. And he still couldn’t now. They were nothing more but faceless figures in his life, nothing more but characters of his life.

            Gon wished that Lynn were here, as he started to get dressed, throwing his shaggy bathrobe onto his full-size bed. There really weren’t a lot of furnitures in his room. The bed, the cabinets, the lamp on the ceiling, and everything else empty, bare. This was his life, there wasn’t any need to fill it.

            Maybe that’s why he wrote so much, so he could fill in some of his life, some of his emptiness. As Gon walked out onto the living room once again, the pages of the untitled came into his view. The living room connected all the rooms of the house, even though there were three bedrooms in total, plus the kitchen and the bathroom.

            The untitled had grown to about three hundred pages now. The story now progressing with Gon Guree finding out that Kara White had a boyfriend, and because of that knowledge, Guree gives up pursuing her, and loses his writing abilities once again. At this time, an Editor reads one of Guree’s stories, when the Editor was visiting Guree’s Creative Writing teacher. The Editor loves it, and asks Guree to write a full-length novel for publication. Unfortunately, and sadly, Guree refuses it, and tells them that he can’t write anymore. That he quit writing.

            “Gon… We’ll be together soon…”

            The sudden appearance of the voice scared and shocked Gon, as he jumped in the darkness of the living room, his eyes wildly looking for the source of the voice.

            “Gon… We’ll be together again…”

            Gon gave out a cry of fear, as he recognized whom the voice belonged to, as her figure slowly appeared, light surrounding her, in the darkness of the room. “Kara…” The name escaped Gon’s lips, as his body shivered in fear, not sure anymore of what to do, what to think.

            “Gon… We will be together soon…” The voice repeated, as Kara’s figure slowly came into focus, and a smile formed in her face. She still wore the same white robe as the last time he saw her.

            “What?” Gon asked, his lips quivering. “How…”

            “Finish the untitled, Gon.” She smiled, still floating on where she appeared. “And then we can be reborn together again.”


            “I’ll be waiting for you there. I’ll soon be reborn there…” She looked up at him, her blue eyes reflecting desire in her eyes. “My new name will be Kara White… Remember me… Come find me there…”

            “What?” Gon asked, but as soon as he took a step forward, the image of Kara disappeared, vanished, leaving him alone in the dark again. Gon looked around in confusion, not knowing anymore what to do, what to believe. That was when he heard the voices coming into his head, that was when the images of the untitled’s world and characters appeared inside his mind.

            “No, not now.” Gon cried, shaking his head. “Please go away. Not now.”

            The images did not obey him, as they increased and increased, flooding Gon’s mind with nothing else but images, sounds, voices. They wanted to be written down, they wanted to be born on paper. The inundation of these images hurt Gon’s head, a pain so great that he felt as if his head was caving in, crushing the mass of his brain.

            Gon gripped his head, screaming in pain, as he tired to shake the pain and the images away. Yet they wouldn’t go, Gon knew this too well, they wouldn’t go until Gon wrote them down, until everything was written down.

            Gon cried, tears coming down his cheeks, as he sat in front of the desk, the untitled’s presence looming over him. He cried because of the pain. He cried because he had no choice. Gon was not the master of writing, but a slave of his own writing. He could not stop the flow of the images, he could not control anything at all. His writings controlled him, and he was powerless to do anything at all.


Page 5


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