Beyond The Looking Glass - Words of the Unseen - Chapter 45
๐ฆ๐ธ๐ป๐ญ ๐ซ๐ ๐ฝ๐ฑ๐ฎ ๐ช๐พ๐ฝ๐ฑ๐ธ๐ป
Beyond The Looking Glass is the second book in the Unseen series, a story that came to me from the other side. A story where I thought I was just the narrator until I heard the Words of the Unseen.
This second story goes beyond time and place and mixes the long ago with the here and now. Because history keeps repeating, until we learn and do something about it.
Beyond The Looking Glass - Words of the Unseen - Chapter 45
I wake up from an annoying beeping sound. When I open my eyes to find the source of that shitty sound I immediately close them again. The little bit of light has caused an explosion in my head. Not just in my head, by the way, everything fucking hurts.
A wave of nausea rushes through me and when I have swallowed the urge to throw up and the pain subsides a bit I try again. Very carefully I look through a slit of my right eye and what I see confirms my suspicion.
This is not my bedroom and I do not have a huge hangover after a party that I do not remember. This is a hospital and why does it have to be so hellishly light in here?
A new wave of nausea works its way up and I quickly close my eye again.
"Mr. Hildebrandt, you are conscious I understand?"
WTF that does not sound like Van Hoof but even more annoying, I ignore the voice. I must have slept because the nausea is gone, the pain unfortunately not yet.
"You can count yourself lucky, that could have ended very badly."
Who is this idiot, I open one eye, half. Yes, an old balding bastard, and he looks like a snail.
"Mate, this is annoying enough I think. And especially since I crossed the road with green or didn't you read that."
The snail looks through the papers; "Oh, right. Very annoying indeed." His tone is immediately different, prejudiced Boomer. Doctor Boomer the Snail.
"Well you probably don't feel well, but fortunately it's not too bad. You have a slight concussion and a few bruises but you can go home as soon as your parents get there. I'll explain to them when to wake you up, but otherwise, everything seems fine. Well, under the circumstances of course."
Ugh, can that snail keep his mouth shut I suddenly feel sick again from that tone.
Then I hear my mother, but Doctor Slak stops her before she reaches my bed, I hear him explain the whole story again and try to shut myself off, really this man.
"Honey, are you okay?"
"If I was okay I wouldn't be here Mom, but I think I can go home, right?"
She nods, "Yes, there is a nurse with a wheelchair on the way and I have to wake you up regularly in the coming hours. But only for the first 24 hours."
"I was so shocked when she called, what did you do?"
Really, why do they all think I did something? Because I'm 18 and a boy?
"Nothing about me, that car went through a red light and now here I am."
She looks at me in the far too white hospital bed, "Well, thank goodness you're still here."
It must be me, but people like my mother and Doctor Slak make sure I can't wait to get out of the house.
It probably comes down to my puberty, but I really have a hard time with people. So many are pointless zombies, wandering around here waiting to die.
They add nothing, they take and take but what do they do for humanity or the world?
Nothing. They complain, they whine, they work, they produce waste. They do their best to raise children who do exactly the same.
I see far too few people with that urge, that desire to look further, and not only to look but also to see.
The Endless Uselessness of Existence will be the title of my book.
A story in which people are nothing more than ants, constantly busy but without becoming any wiser themselves.
Sometimes there is a flame, but usually sooner or sometimes a bit later it extinguishes and they stop asking questions. It is what it is is so much easier to accept than why is it what it is, and what do I really want it to be?
If you have the position that humans have in this evolution, why do we do the dinosaur? Just like thousands of years ago, we do nothing with our position.
Now you can't blame the dinosaurs for that, they had the brain capacity of a boiled egg. Chicken egg, not a dinosaur egg.
But we are one of the most intelligent animals on earth, with the most possibilities and what do we do? We gladly lend a helping hand to our own extinction.
There are just too many of them, so I don't think it's a problem at all if we almost become extinct. Which by the way is very likely, the only risk is that we might all die out like the dinosaurs.
And no, I'm not afraid of death, I have this life and that is all I got. So that's how I'll live it, and hopefully, my end won't be between these terrible white sheets in a too-hard hospital bed.
Mother and the Snail are still talking when the wheelchair is wheeled in.
Now that's what makes me happy, a beautiful plump redhead nurse with very wide hips in that white uniform. At least I have one good memory regarding this time-consuming drama.
"Mom, can we go?" I ask while the nurse supports my somewhat dizzy self. Of course, I'm dizzy, I have to use this opportunity to feel her.
Click The Next Button for The Next Chapter
Post Related To Closing Book One and Opening Book Two
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Greatest Hits From My Book "Beyond Doubt: Whispers of the Unseen"
The Closure - Alice in ArtWorkLand:
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