Neurotica Read online

After closing the door and turning off the light, Jonathan stepped across his bedroom floor with great care. He did not wish to step or slip on anything that could be - and probably was - littered across the floor of his personable bedroom. Of course, in the absolute darkness, maintained through some effort on the part of the curtains and blinds, this was no easy task. But he was completely familiar with his surroundings. Even if he was walking on his hands with his eyes plucked out, he could still successfully find his comfortable bed.

  The bed, consisting of a simple mattress on top of a box spring, creaked and moaned when he finally fell upon it, as if it had been reluctantly awakened from a pleasurable dream. It had been another laborious day for him - studying, reading, walking, staring at the sky. He decided he must fall asleep quickly, if he was going to make the most out of the evening hours and awaken in the morning to face another stressful day.

  He tried switching his position several times, in a desperate attempt to invite sleep. Every time he did so, the mattress would express its dissatisfaction - groaning, as usual. The mattress's complaints served only to drive sleep further away from his tired limbs. He tried to adjust his blankets, but ended up wrapped in such a complete cocoon he could no longer move his legs or arms. He feared he might asphyxiate himself, or gangrene might set in. In either case, he would be unable to wake up on time. He could not tolerate that.

  After a brief, rather one-sided struggle, Jonathan was soon free. He lay motionless, much to the satisfaction of his cantankerous mattress. Staring upwards at the veil of darkness surrounding him, his eyes closed almost unconsciously. Concentrating on the screen provided by the inside of his eyelids, he watched the dance of pale blue and green lights. Some appeared as planets, some as stars, others as fantastic macroscopic organisms of some unknown origin. It was then that he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

  His body began to undulate gently, his mattress floating along. He could hear the waves breaking against the side of his bed. The summer heat was gone. In its place, the refreshing ocean breeze. He sat up in bed and opened his eyes. Although he could not see for the darkness of his room, he reached over the edge of his bed and immersed his hand in the cool, swaying waters. Suddenly, something strange seized him. So incredibly pale, it was luminous. He had no chance to pull away. It had clasped him like a mother clasps her child at the carnival. He was quickly pulled beneath the waves.

  Jonathan had very little time to contemplate what was happening to him. Everything was a blur. Water rushed over him. His senses were awash with fear and anxiety. He prayed he would not drown. Opening his eyes, all he could see was the pale, luminous hand, clenching his wrist. This hand, its point of attachment nowhere in sight, was dragging him down into the abysmal depths of the ocean. Struggling was futile. The grip was too tight and the water rushing past made movement impossible, or sluggish at best.

  Although he could see nothing - aside from the hand - he was aware that the depth was rapidly increasing. The pressure had reached the point at which his head ached terribly. The salinity became so high that his eyes burned and his taste buds screamed in agony. Further down through the black ocean depths, he could not help but think that the person who had seized hold of him must have incredibly long arms - about five thousand feet long. But still, he could not see those arms; only the hand was visible.

  Amazingly, Jonathan had not yet drowned; in fact, he felt a strange sense of immortality. Yet, he wished his strange ordeal would soon end. The pressure began to give him a severe migraine, his bladder felt as if it would let loose, and the steadily increasing salinity was unbearable as well. A slight chill overcame him, probably because his pyjamas were quite thoroughly soaked.

  Just as his fears reached their apex, his downward journey ended. Bursting out of the water, he landed amongst silk pillows and satin sheets. He felt as though he never made that harrowing journey through the ocean depths. Miraculously, he was completely dry. He was, however, completely disoriented. Had he just been pulled upward through the water - in which case he had surfaced and landed on dry land - or had he really made a forced decent into the ocean, as he initially thought? The confusion stirred his curiosity.

  With some reluctance, because he was strangely afraid of what he might see, he raised his head from the receptive silk pillows. He attempted to stand up when the top of his head suddenly became immersed in water. In a state of shock - the likes of which he never experienced before - he fell back down onto the pillows. Touching his hair to see if it was possible, he turned a startled glance upwards to confirm his fears. The ceiling above him was formed by the deep ocean water which he just passed through.

  Jonathan's disbelief was such that he had to reach up and touch the ceiling with his hand. With a quick stroking movement, he splashed the water hanging above him. The resulting droplets of water did not fall onto the pillows and sheets he knelt upon, as would be expected on the account of gravity. Instead, they rose back up to rejoin the ocean water forming the ceiling.

  It became painfully obvious to Jonathan that he had become trapped within a three foot high crawlspace of some sort at the absolute bottom of the ocean depths. The very water he had been pulled down through formed a lid to his cage. But at least he now had air to breath; he was thankful for that.

  All Jonathan wanted to do was go to bed. Now he was in such a predicament he did not know what action to take. He decided to survey his confines, for lack of any plan of escape (after all, how could anyone swim upwards through thousands of feet of water?). He had to do this on his hands and knees; he was so tall that if he stood up the ocean water suspended above him would engulf him from the waist up.

  The first thing he noticed, upon looking around him, was the lack of furnishings within his deep sea prison. Only several silk pillows and satin sheets covered the floor. He was also struck by the hypnotic dance of bluish light that seemed to radiate from the rippling ceiling above him. The silk pillows and satin sheets - all of them white - were made strangely luminous by this light.

  Upon further surveillance, he discovered that a wall of beautifully formed corals of every colour imaginable seemed to encase him in what appeared to be a circular area with a diameter of approximately twenty feet. Of course, this was but a mere estimation on his part. He did not have the necessary equipment to take proper measurements with. Nevertheless, the situation did not look promising. So far, it was obvious he was trapped within a small area at the abysmal depths of the ocean.

  His fears of confinement quickly left him. A noise came from just behind him. Gripped by fear, his limbs reduced to an immobile state, his crouching body was forced to strike an even stranger pose.

  “Hello,” a feminine voice flowed into his ears, like a soothing lullaby.

  Jonathan dared not turn around, even though the voice seemed warm and friendly. He could not imagine who on Earth could be sharing his strange confines with him. He felt foolish. How could he have possibly overlooked the presence of someone else? Had this person - ­a young lady, no doubt - been behind him all along?

  “Hello?” the voice came again, as if Jonathan had misunderstood what was said the first time.

  At the risk of being rude to his guest - or his hostess - he began to turn around slowly, not knowing what to expect. When his eyes fell upon the other occupant, he became so startled he leaped up and almost drowned himself upon hitting the ceiling.

  “Who are you?” he gasped, pushing back his saturated hair, wiping the water from his face.

  There before him lay the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. In literature, he had never encountered such beauty. The goddesses of Greek mythology were all put to shame. He had never seen her likes in the thousands of films he had seen. Her hair was as black as the priceless oil which pulses, like blood through veins, within the deep ocean floor - untouched by mankind. Her eyes were equally dark. Her fair skin was made luminous by the hypnotic blue light, cascading down from the ocean ceiling. A thin, almost transparent material was draped over he
r, subtly hinting at the ethereal shapes contained within. She appeared to be quite tall - taller than average. Of course, this was but mere estimation on his part. He did not have the necessary equipment to take proper measurements with.

  “Who are you?” he asked once again; after all, she said 'hello' twice, so he felt justified for repeating himself as well.

  “I am a culmination of all of your hopes, dreams, and desires,” she replied, with a hypnotic voice. “I am both beautiful and intelligent, both honest and trustworthy, and even if there was someone else down here with me, I would remain faithful to you.”

  “But how will you and I escape from here?” Jonathan stirred, filled with a sudden sense of urgency.

  Even though he was overwhelmed by the beauty of the young lady stretched out before him, part of him was still contemplating a means of escape.

  “Escape?” the young lady smiled, looking up at the ocean which formed the ceiling above them. “There is no escape - there is no need for escape. You will remain down here with me. We will live together in complete happiness. You and I will have no use for the contrivances of the upper world. There will be no work to be done ­only pleasures to be explored. We will not need any food, water, or other furnishings besides silk pillows and satin sheets. We only need each other down here, and we will remain here - together - until the end of time, and just beyond that.”

  At that point, Jonathan seated himself amongst the silk pillows, massaging his temples in a desperate bid to escape the confusion of his predicament. He briefly looked upwards, noticing several highly unusual species of fish swimming through the pristine blue waters of the ceiling. These deep sea fish were equipped with a dazzling array of luminescent organs which they used, with great skill, to lure prey into their massive, gaping jaws. He closed his eyes, put a hand to his forehead, and began to shake his head in disbelief.

  “Oh what a task I've chosen,” he moaned. “Why can't things be easy for me?”

  “What do you mean?” she sat up, apparently surprised by his comment.

  “I can't stay down here!” he motioned with his hands.

  “Why not?” she sank back down. Her soft, friendly voice seemed to have vanished. Her dark eyes lost their liveliness, only to be replaced with disappointment.

  “Well, I'm already feeling claustrophobic down here. Let's face it,” he paused, shaking his head, “I'm just too tall. I can't stand up at all down here for fear of drowning, and I'm already starting to get back aches from having to crouch over.”

  “Well then, I will massage your back for you,” she smiled, gracefully crawling towards him.

  “No thanks!” he pleaded, raising his hands. “If you touch me, I might be tempted to stay.”

  She stopped advancing towards him. Her perfect composure now escaped her. She stared down at the silk pillows, tears collecting in her haunting eyes.

  “Then you really don't like me?” she sobbed. “You don't find me attractive?”

  “No, I think you're very attractive - extremely attractive,” he attempted to console her. He felt great sympathy for this beautiful and most likely very lonely young lady, now reduced to such a state. He reached out and touched the soft, luminescent skin of her shoulder. Yet upon doing so, he was filled with such unusual sensations that he thought he had better keep to himself before losing sight of reason.

  “I would really like to get to know you,” he continued. “You strike me as an interesting person, but it would have to be under different circumstances. This just won't do.” Too shy, and perhaps too nervous to face her directly, he glanced around at the deep sea confines he shared with her.

  “I really thought you would stay here - with me,” she shrugged. “I thought you'd like it here. I thought this is what you wanted.”

  “It is an extremely tempting offer,” he tried to explain his position, without further upsetting her, “but I'm afraid that I cannot accept. Besides, we'd probably get tired of each other, if we remained down here, in this little room, until the end of time.”

  She looked at Jonathan as if he was speaking a foreign tongue, tears still rolling down her cheeks. She embraced herself, as if suddenly embarrassed by having presented herself in such a stimulating manner.

  Jonathan felt awkward, to say the least. He wondered if he was making the right decision. Half of him was a realist and wanted to return to the surface. His other half preferred to stay far below the ocean and live out all of his fantasies with the intoxicating beauty who lay weeping before him. Finally, he reached a compromise.

  “Maybe we could keep our relationship going through correspondence,” he suggested.

  “I don't have an address. I don't even have a mailbox,” she sobbed.

  “Well, what if I call you sometime?”

  “Do you see a telephone down here?” she wiped a few tears from her exquisite cheeks. “No lines service this area.”

  He was at a complete loss. How could he bring happiness to her without having to compromise his freedom? He definitely did not want her to feel unwanted, or rejected; she did seem to encompass everything he ever wanted. To leave her so soon would seem impolite, if not insane.

  “I'll tell you what,” a suggestion quickly came to him, “I'll stay down here with you for a little longer. We could talk awhile.”

  “For how long will you stay?”

  “About ten minutes.”

  The young lady burst into new fits of crying. Jonathan had not expected her to react like that to his suggestion. He felt like a complete ass for placing such limitations on their relationship.

  “I'm sorry,” he reached over to comfort her. “I do not wish to torture you, or make you unhappy, but you must understand that I cannot stay with you much longer, even though part of me longs to be with you. I have a lot of work to do in the surface world - studying, reading, walking, staring at the sky ...” he paused briefly. He was ashamed of the grief he had brought to this wondrous person. “I suppose that it is best if I just leave now.”

  She seemed more at ease, now that he'd given her a loving embrace. However, the embrace had the opposite effect on Jonathan. It filled him with ecstatic delight, which he tried to conceal. Suddenly, an important question arose.

  “How do I get out of here?” he gazed up at the rippling blue ceiling.

  The young lady gracefully motioned with her delicate hands. A whirlpool formed just above him. Somehow, he knew what he had to do. By leaping into it, he would be transported back up to his bedroom. Yet, he hesitated and turned to her.

  “Will I ever see you again?” he asked, with true feelings of remorse at having to leave.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact you can - if you still want to,” she replied, hoping that he would follow her advice. “I will always exist in your dreams. Deep down inside, your memory of me will remain intact, so you will always know where to find me.”

  “Then I will look for you there.”

  “I knew you would,” she smiled, her tears vanishing. “You're unlike other men. They're all too wrapped up with reality, but you're always day-dreaming and fantasizing so much that you hardly ever get any work done.”

  They joined together in a good laugh, although he did not know whether she had just paid him a compliment or not. With some reluctance, he rose to enter the whirlpool above him. He took one last look at her, still lying across the silk pillows and satin sheets. She was smiling now; he was glad of that. Her dark eyes were every bit as hypnotic as the bluish light, cascading down from the ceiling. He felt like tasting her lips as a final farewell. But if he was to do that he would surely go mad with pleasure. To avoid further temptation, and since he had gained her respect, he leaped up into the whirlpool.

  The journey upwards through the ocean depths was much easier than the forced decent he had originally experienced. Travelling within the whirlpool, he managed to stay completely dry. In what seemed to be an incredibly short period of time, he was propelled from the bottom of the ocean to the surface. Flung from its churnin
g waters, he landed safely on his bed, which immediately expressed its dissatisfaction at his return by issuing a tremendous sigh.

  Without further interruption, Jonathan fell into a deeper sleep. Yet, when he awoke in the morning, he felt as though he had not slept at all.

  During the Lunch Hour