Conflicted (Buddie) ENGLISH VERSION

Nightmares

He woke up screaming.

At first he got up, looking for light and almost fell down the stairs, completely disoriented. When he finally found the switch, he fell on his buttocks, terrorized by the humanoid shape he saw on his wall. It was only the shadow of an external light.

One hand passed over his face. It was untenable. He could not close his eye for more than a second without instantly reopening them to the brink of discomfort.

He sat down the steps of his staircase and leaned against the wall, letting his eyes walk on the lights outside.

The apartment was quiet, the fridge was turning and we could hear the passages of the few vehicles in the street below. He raised his head towards the clock, which indicated two o'clock in the morning.

He got up and down. He opened the fridge door and stretched out his arm to grab a beer. He dragged his feet to the sofa and dropped into it.

At this time, the broadcasts had no interest. In addition, there was every other chance of coming across a TV version of a porn movie. He randomly put a channel and came across a documentary on Michigan lands.

With his eyes empty, he sip his beer, sanked on the sofa, hoping that boredom would end him.

When his eyelids began to become heavy, he suffered relief, thinking that he would finally be able to rest.

-I'm disappointed, I thought you would never forget me.

He straightened up immediately, spilling the rest of his beer on his knees.

-Fuck shit.

He looked around, but his apartment was empty. His brain probably didn't lie, he needed to ventilate his mind. He got up and walked to the kitchen to look for a sponge. When he turned around, he jumped.

-Hi Buck, you make a funny head of it, didn't you expect to see me again, right?

He blinked several times, his air stunned. He knew he had nightmares, but he didn't remember that they were so real.

-Fuck I have to wake up urgently there, he said, hitting his cheeks.

-You offend me Buck, I feel like you don't want to talk to me.

-You're just in my head, I'm going crazy.

He returned to sit in the living room and turned up the sound of the TV, trying to silence the voice of the guy who had just settled on the furniture near the TV. He passed his hand in front, the pixelated images passed through.

-It's boring to be a ghost, it's boring!

He leaned to the side, his face was confused and began to smile.

-Now that you remember me, I can finally talk to you, before you just ignored me as soon as you saw me. I missed our little conversations.

-We don't have a conversation here Devon, you have a monologue there.

-Ouch touched. Nevertheless, he said, getting up and coming to sit on the sofa by his side. Now there are three of us in your head. It's party time!

Evan turned his head and his eyes crossed those of Hector, who was standing in the darkness near the window, arms crossed and his eyes black, although he seemed less aggressive, just resentful. In the kitchen, Nicolas had fun turning a knife between his fingers, a smile on his lips, silent.

Devon observed him, slightly intrigued.

-He makes me freak out, he confessed, whispering.

Buck swallowed. He had paid a therapist for so long for her to chase away these ghosts from him, and last night they had all invited themselves to the little party. Obviously it was Evan the host and they were disturbing guests.