Day 360 – Folie a Deux – Part 30

Word count: 1288

James waited all night long, sick and almost feverish. Lying out in the cold had clearly had an effect on him. Miranda had also contacted his friend Jonny as he kept on trying to phone him, but James kept on rejecting them. He wanted to be left alone with his mad mind. Of all the years he had been living life to the fullest, he had never imagined he would be in his dark recording studio in his old expensive mansion with his wife ignoring him, his children seemingly alien to him and waiting with desperation to hear from a woman that may or may not exist.

Hours went by; he did not eat and though his body was trying to force him, he did not sleep. He wanted to see the words being written on the page. He wanted a girl to come in and write them – he wanted more than anything to see it happening before his eyes so that he could definitely know it was real. He did not want to pass out. He stared and stared at a focussed point in the room. Above all else he must keep awake.

As the time passed, he concentrated on his memories – the ones that would keep him alive. He remembered loved ones that died, the moment his first album hit the shelves and the time that he signed his first autograph. It was all so surreal in the beginning – now it was just the norm. There were interviews with journalists and there were TV appearances he could not remember – how strange that that would be? How odd would it be that being famous was monotony? As a teenager he yearned for it – how sad it was to have such a dream now? All that he wanted now was the simple things in life. He could live quite happily playing in a band that earned no money; he could sleep easy at night knowing just knowing that his children were safe. He did not need the platinum albums or the magazine articles, the memorabilia and the sell-out gigs. But at the same time it had made him who he was….. How odd, he thought… how odd.

James was now in a girl’s bedroom and instantly his heart sank. He had not made it – he had fallen asleep and now he was in her body. Now that the puppeteering was mastered, he easily managed to make her body get up and stand up in her room. He looked around. She was clearly back in this place – it looked like university accommodation. There were notes on the desk. He had been here before, but only briefly. Most of the time he had caught her when she was going out – mainly during meal times or to get to the bathroom late at night: peeing as a woman was the most awkward thing in the world. Now that he was in the room, though, he wanted to get a good look around. This time around he could more her head a bit more – that had always been a challenge. It was like controlling a dead weight – nothing wanted to move so trying to make it do as James liked was difficult.
She was a tidy individual. Everything had its place and was in order. But there was one strange thing on the wall that he noticed – a piece of paper blue tacked to it. Leaning in closer, he read it.

Don’t you dare.

How odd, he thought, but then he reflected and thought he probably should have done the same. Actually, it was only now that the thought occurred to him that she might already know what he looked like – and there was a small chance that from there she might have worked out who he was? Would this be hitting the headlines soon? Would he be carried off by the men in white coats to the vista of photo-journalists having a field day? His whole career would come crumbling down – his wife would never forgive him; his children would just pity him. This was the end – he had to get out of here now and smash all the mirrors, remove any trace of him in the house. He could not risk it being too late.

And then the problem hit him like a baseball bat to the teeth. James did not know how to leave. He was trapped in this woman’s body. He would have to wait until someone revived him or he naturally exited. He could not just simply wait here though – sit around until he just left? No, this was ample opportunity to find out what she knew. He made her body rake through her drawers, in her wardrobe, under her desk, in shelves and finally under her mattress for what he was looking for: a diary. He flicked open the pages and started to speed-read from day one…. Her first experiences of feeling tired, passing out, black outs….. it was all very similar to what he was feeling. Then he read that she kept on visiting a garden and she was describing verbatim his garden – there was no doubt about it. She had been there watching his most intimate moments – even when he wasn’t blacked out. It was just a few seconds apparently, but it was strange. It was strange seeing himself through someone else’s eyes. This girl had detailed every event that she had been in his mind from the very first time. She had been there in the hotel – she had described it exactly. She had even drawn a little layout of it. It was creepy – a stalker or another version of him. He turned the pages right up until the very last.

His name is James. I wish I knew more than that, but I don’t. I wish that he would show me his face – but at the same time, I hardly give him the chance. I’m thinking about taking the paper off my mirrors. People are starting to ask questions. I think I’m pushing everyone away. I don’t feel comfortable around them. I don’t feel I’m the real me until I’m inside him. That doesn’t even make sense as a sentence, but it feels right to me inside. I wish I knew him. I wish he would let me in. I haven’t told anyone of this. I might be mad – it might all be in my bed. If it is, though, can’t I trust myself?

James did not know what to think after reading that. He felt trusted – he felt comforted certainly for she did not know who he was. He left the book on her desk and got up. He needed to know more about this girl – what kind of books does she read, what is she interested in? He went to her shelf – this time more interested in its contents than looking for a notepad. There on the shelf was something that made him smile instantly. It was all his band’s albums, lined up. Every single one they had ever made. In that second he knew he could trust her. There was no reason for it and it might be total career suicide, but he was going to do it.
He took one of the CDs down from the shelf and opened it up. He removed the sleeve from the container and placed it by the diary on the desk, opened on the last entry. He got a pen from the drawer and he wrote just two short words on the page – as clearly as he could possibly make it. It was a wonderful composition: the album sleeve, the dairy and two words, accompanied by a short arrow.

This James.

~ by S.G. Mark on September 30, 2012.

One Response to “Day 360 – Folie a Deux – Part 30”

  1. Very satisfying Folie a Deux
    Best of luck to you on your last week!

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