Stolen Socks

We are all kinda mad here, all somewhat disordered, upset and fundamentally unguarded whilst driven into the desperate condition of self-centered freedom and unlimited exhibition of  our insides.

So it was this time.

I was given the pleasure to be a queer-looking fashion star in an absurd party that no-one really was going to enjoy. Several faces popped out from here and there on the stare cases, in the large apartments, in every room, toilet, bathroom, kitchen… Odd faces, drunken faces, unready faces, distorted make-up, men’s sweat,  dim lights, no music, no dancing people, no-one laughing.

Yet it was a party.

Everyone was striving to do what they wanted. No-one gave a damn about how do they look like or what do their actions appear to be. A girl ate like a swine and never wiped the sauce  from her lips and chin, four or five men stood smoking their long thick cigars in a narrow doorway, from time to time one of them experienced a good solid spit at the floor, a drunken mature woman tried to zip her stretch jeans properly right in front of several people licking wine from the carpet.

As I sat on a huge bed and tried to find at least one adequate face in this freak parade I noticed two young women sitting opposite, one of them attempted to pull off one of my socks. The next moment I noticed that the other one has already stolen the other sock and mocked at it feeding it with sushi. I jumped up in astonishment and suddenly discovered a cop in black uniform in the crowd that stared at me like I was an idol. My glance slid over him to discover that he masturbated fiercely and was about to cum…

‘And now it’s time to celebrate the everlasting power of insolence!’, someone said.

Everyone cheered… Lights flushed, music pumped the whole place, the walls shivered, I’ve lost my second sock (that damn girl stole it finally), barefooted I hopped through the astoundingly awkward people. I couldn’t just walk or run because that was too usual and inapplicable to the circumstances.

It was night and day at the same time. The stars and the moon in the sky told me that it was night, but the sunlight around me exclaimed the opposite. The streets were surreal and unbelievably beautiful, cars were all neat and bright clean, the roads creeped away from my sight like endless snakes into a wonderful mist of azure and milk white. The air felt crystal and ideal though somewhat thin…

‘…we just can’t erase the nature of our greasy embraces, because…’, said a man in a car as I passed by.

I couldn’t hear what was the whole phrase like, so I went straight over the road ignoring the traffic. A trailer hit me, but drove through me, I could feel the heat of it’s engine as it flew through my heart and lungs. A car like a Toyota came from the left and it’s bumper penetrated through my ankles. Yet it drove through without disturbing me.

As I reached the sidewalk I stumbled over two cops armed with rubber clubs and handguns. Without saying a word they seized me, grasped my wrists and waist so that I was immediately immobilized. The next moment I felt the hot breathing in my left ear and the rubbing movement of the club between my thighs.

‘You damn bitch came here and organized a mischievous party! Where’s Harold?!’, one of the cops whispered in my ear and that made me shiver.

‘Harold? Was he there? I want to make a demand! Someone has stolen my socks!’

‘Really?! You’ve been seen talking to them and feeding them sushi and pasta and selling this to youngsters! Were is Harold?’, the man repeated.

‘And Andy’, remarked the other.

The multiple passages lead me somewhere. Why did they pay such an attention to my socks?! Oh damn! I guessed why as a ran through a huge supermarket and felt the cold slippery floor under my soles. Because I wore the socks for some time the bumper of that car didn’t ruin my feet. But why did the trailer pass through my body like I was a ghost?

Who am I? What did that party mean? Why everyone looked like they were forced to party, but really didn’t enjoy the usual way and practiced queer activity instead? Did I force them? Did I push them to that? But I never needed such an idiotic event in my entire life!

I’m Catherine, I do remember that. But is Catherine me?

I ran further from level to level. I knew I could return to somewhere before the day-and-night condition disappears and before another two important options expire. There was a doorway under the ceiling that I saw once before. I must get there in less than no time…

Suddenly I felt like my body lost it’s stable structure, it didn’t hurt, but felt like something’s wrong. In an eye wink I found myself in a different place. Al watched me as the voodoo Doll exhaled smoke in his hand.

‘You… You stopped me! Hey! That’s screwed up!’, I wailed on the top of my voice.

The girl that has stolen my sock stood on four doggy style face towards me. Obviously she was dead. The two familiar cops sat at the bedside with their rubber clubs in their hairy hands. I could see their silly faces with idiotic smiles. It seemed they saw something that they laughed at and that I couldn’t see.

‘What are you laughing at?!’, I questioned and towered over the dead body and them both.

‘The party! It was damn great! Ha-ha! And now it’s over!’

The next moment I found myself on the floor; the two rubber clubs were placed on my shoulders. I knew that I couldn’t escape without being beaten. My head was turned to the bed with the girl whose bloodstained and awkwardly twisted butt I could plainly see. The slippery floor was cool and dirty…

I started turning my head to the elder cop, but felt his hot erected cock touching my cheek…

‘Why?‘

My question stuck in my throat, because I suddenly realized that the dead girl was my teenage daughter and the cop was her father…

I screamed, the body fell and tumbled, my back hit the ceiling… actually I broke my spine and ribs.

It was still day-and-night. I could see it as I flew through the building until I reached the sky in which the moon and sun were both shining at the same time…