A House Filled with Decrepits

A Story by Gembro99

A young man finds himself mixed up in the madness of a girl who claims to wake up in a different life everyday.

Ch.1

Everyone who knew thought she was insane. Except me.

Yesterday, Aubin was the daughter of a wealthy author by the name of Jurs Deliv. The day had consisted of a long shower followed by the standard confusion and avoidance routine. Mind you, that had been one of the more pleasant days. A few weeks ago she found herself spending the day in the life of a prostitute, surrounded by the type of men whose minds are poisoned by evil. She had lived a day in the life of a nanny, a Turkish princess, a window washer, a mother superior, an anorexic, a trauma surgeon (one of her least favorite days because of how many people she felt she killed), a convicted rapist, a model, a homeless mans wife, and the list goes on to infinity. Her favorite days however, were the one’s that merely ended in a warm bed and a full stomach, unfortunately, she seemed to wake up in more bad lives than in good lives.

I suppose I should start at the beginning, if the concept exists. Aubin grew up with a loving family. The type of family that has their arguments and imperfections like every worldly device has, but at the end of the day, they are the people you want to surround yourself with and to share the special happiness a family can magically promise.

Aubin had had identical twin sisters; Anita and Arianna. Their father was a white-collar worker who survived his tedious office work with the help of a strong spirit drink tucked reliably inside his desk. Her mother stayed at home, made the meals, cleaned the house, folded the laundry, and was unabashedly strict in wearing the role of the stereotypical housewife from the 50’s.

The strange awakenings started when she was fifteen. One Friday in November, Aubin woke up and discovered that Arianna was missing. Everyone and everything told her that Arianna never existed and that she really ought to stop being so foolish. Aubin’s parents were convinced that she had had a strange dream that she subconsciously held on to and, for some unknown reason, traded the dream for reality. Aubin knew the truth though, and if you ask her today, she will probably tell you that that was the worst day of her life for it represented the start of her newfound hellish existence.

The next day, she was told she never had a sister, nevertheless two. The fits Aubin threw and acts of desperation confused her parents, but the next day it was just her dad that was confused when Aubin claimed to have had a mother. The day after that, she woke up in a new house entirely and everything seemed to back up the fact that her name was actually Hildegard, her parents were named Gus and Bertha, and she was inexcusably late for German school.

At first, she tried not to fall asleep, but something seemed to shut her eyes for her. She then grew extremely depressed and tried to kill herself. A moment after her heart stopped she would wake up in another life. After a while, Alison grew routine to waking up in a different role every day. She was swallowed by numbness and even more depression, giving up the hope that one day she would wake up back in the home in which she truly belonged.

As I was saying, she woke up (just like every other morning,) except today she woke up in my bed. I remember trying to inhale the crisp smell of autumn as I lay awake, staring at the strange girl and wondering where I was, what time it was, who I was with and other thoughts that cross your mind when you wake up suddenly from a deep sleep.

Everything about her was helpless in that moment, just like everything is when drowned in sleep. She reminded me of a gentle lamb, bathed in innocence, never having been stained by the inescapable syrup of the world. Perhaps she is an angel? I thought after I gained partial awareness of my predicament.

No, she couldn’t be an angel; she wasn’t beautiful enough. But then again, isn’t beauty accentuated by natural flaws? I studied her a bit longer; her lips were too thin, her skin was too white, and her hair was too scraggily. She looks like a mix between Oliver Twist and the Little Old Lady who Lived in a Shoe, or so I imagined. Whoever she was, whatever she looked like, she wasn’t dangerous or immoral. In fact she looked like the type of girl who is raised by a group of overly conservative women and is never taught what evil is. The most traumatic experience of her life was probably when she forgot to do a chore and one of the highly conservative woman in the giant lofty skirts scolded her with a wooden spoon.

They say not to judge a book by its cover though, so I thought I would wait until I’ve met her to decide who she really was. Besides, everyone looks the same when they sleep.

When she did finally wake up, her face looked empty. Like there was no reason to wake up. Not even the beautiful day, bursting through the window brought life to her eyes.

I didn’t know what to say, the only natural response seemed to be:

“Hi.”

“Hi.” she spoke in return.

“What’s your name?” I was curious and nothing I could have said would have made this moment less awkward.

“Aubin.” She looked confused. “Who are you supposed to be?”

“I have always supposed myself to be Jack.”

She didn’t laugh, or even fake a smile. She just stared blankly as if I was one of life’s assets, taunting her existence.

“So… I guess the real question is, how did you end up in my bed? The last thing I remember is coming home from my grandma’s birthday celebration, not drunk might I add, and unaccompanied by you.”

“I’m not anyone you know?” Her mousy eyes frowned.

“I can’t say I remember you, no.”

“That can’t be..” She sat up, pushed the covers down to take a stroll around the bedroom.

“What do you mean?” I sat up feeling uneasy with a foreign girl pacing about my apartment.

She didn’t reply, instead she stared into my empty refrigerator.

“Have we met?”

“I don’t know. The people I wake up with always know me. I guess you’re a new type.”

“You mean to say that you wake up in people’s beds regularly?” I grew very alarmed that I could have slept with such a woman.

“Yes.” She looked at me lacsidasically. “Every day I wake up in a new bed, a new house, a new environment, a new outfit, and a new role to play.”

A hot pool of vomit started to whirl in my stomach and slowly slither up my throat.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” I felt sick at the very idea of her.

“I have no idea.” She mumbled as she sauntered over to the bookcase.

“You know, this is possibly the most infuriating book I have ever read.” She pulled out Beowulf.

I gasped. It was one of my grandpa’s favorites.

“How could the author give me such a great story and then leave all the answers on the page. There’s absolutely nothing to think about as you read it, or worse, when you're done.” With that she tossed the epic poem into the wastebasket by the counter.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I scrambled out of bed and retrieved my grandfather’s classic, shaking my head at her poor taste in literature.

“This is my book. Who do you think you are? By God I ought to call the police on you. We still haven’t gotten to the bottom of what you are doing in my apartment. I would kick you out but you look as if you have not eaten for days. Since my refrigerator and pantry seem to be empty, what do you say we head downstairs to the café, enjoy a bit of coffee, and get to the bottom of this strange incident?”

She looked at me the way a lamb looks at its slaughterer: bored, ignorant, and unaware of anything beneath the surface of sight.

“Very well.” She looked down at her worn t-shirt with the words “mathlete” plastered to the front, partially tucked into a pair of plaid shorts, which loosely paraded her white legs. Her feet were bare. “Do you have a pair of shoes I can borrow?” I handed her my sandals and slipped on my work shoes.

Ch. 2

The café was swarming with hangovers and sleepless nights. An old man and his granddaughter were leaving as soon as we arrived so we managed to salvage their crumb-ridden table. Aubin picked up the newspaper the old man had left behind and began to catch up on the news. The Turkish embassy is in control of all goods sold from in the world except Finland. Pop Star General Hobbis will be directing a horror movie. New studies show that cigarettes cure cancer. Aubin put down the newspaper. I had decided to order us a cup of coffee and a few scrambled eggs.

“Do you have a cigarette on you?”

“Yes, every human being has a cigarette. By God where do you come from?” I pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one for Aubin and decided I would have one too.

“They say it cures cancer.” She stated matter of factly. “It’s a load of crap, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” I said, reaching for my coffee.

“Why don’t you believe what the newspaper tells you?” She frowned.

“’Cause I don’t. That’s all.” I was getting slightly irritated at her company and was ready to go to the bathroom and never come back but my curiosity held me down to my chair.

“You’re a great conversationalist, whatever your name is.” She scoffed sarcastically.

“It’s Jack, I told you that already.”

“I don’t intend on remembering your name, so please don’t remind me.” She buried her nose back into the newspaper.

I was beginning to feel more and more enraged at this pompous child but the waitress arrived with our eggs and my anger settled slightly.

My runny egg looked like it had barely kissed the pan. Fast food I guess. I took a bite, or a slurp; it wasn’t so bad. When we had finished our eggs we both looked at each other and smiled. Lets get married. I do. Church Bells. Rice. A limo with balloons. Honeymoon in Paris. Children. Arguments. Old age. Death. Grief. Memories. Motivational quotes to brainwash yourself with when all that surrounds you is the toxic fumes from that huge pile of s**t that life likes to coil around you. Never mind.

“Let me tell you something. If I may.” I leaned across the table so that she could smell the rotten egg on my breath. I whispered hoarsely into her lazy eyes. “You’re a pain in the old rump, if you will. Now if you would please just tell me where you came from, I can live in peace and we can go on with our lives.”

It only took her a few minutes to explain her situation. I believed her instantly and I don’t know why. The idea was so outlandish, yet something in the way she did not care about anything made me believe her. She tried to tear up a few times because she felt it would seem right but she failed to summon even a drop.

I remember feeling a small sense of pride in being a part of one of her days. I mean, think about it; there is an infinite amount of days, decades, centuries, people, universes, and situations and I was one of the one’s she woke up with. And it was different this time; She was new to my life and I had never met her before.

The waitress, a tall elderly woman with a cigarette glued between her cheap painted lips, came to gather our plates.

“Best eggs I’ve ever had.” I commented. “Perhaps a bit too dry though, my wife always tells me I’m going to get sick with the all the raw food I eat. That’s hardly the problem, I swear. I just like a little juice to help the meat slide down. All the alcohol I drink has been drying up my saliva.”

“Of course.” She sniffled and shuffled away with our plates.

“What an idiot you are.” Aubin chuckled and kicked me under the table before sitting back with another cigarette.

“I didn’t know you were capable of laughter, or any human emotion for that matter.” I kicked back rather pleased with myself.

“I’m actually not.” She retorted and with that she got up and started to walk down the street.

It was easy to see now that the girl was easily irritable. And she was too rare for me to just let her walk away. I threw some money on the table and hurried after her.

“I’m sorry if what I said was offensive, I did not mean to upset you.”

She was about to say something but a huge truck drove by and splashed sewer water all over us. We were drenched in mud water.

After we took turns showering, I convinced Aubin to let me give her a tour of the neighborhood. I showed her all the places that would bore her like the barbershop, grocery store, and the furniture store because there wasn’t any place interesting in our neighborhood. At one point she tried to run off but she tripped over the huge shoes I had given her to wear.

I tried to keep my mouth shut the whole time. Sometimes I can’t help but blabber our words like fat crows jumping out of my mouth and taking little s***s all over the ground around me. I wish I were more mysterious and thoughtful. Like a tall, wealthy old man who enjoys observation rather than being observed. Flinging coins at poor children who don’t know their generous benefactor. I want to be comfortably invisible. Helping others unnoticed. No one to bother me. Alone. Observing.

“This has got to be the most boring day.” Aubin spoke as we sat down for more runny eggs. There was nothing else to do.

“I wonder why you’re going through this.” I said, trying to make conversation.

“Someone hates me.” She replied.

“We’ll see, maybe you’re just really messed up and belong in a mental institution.”

“I don’t belong anywhere. Or maybe I just belong everyone. Either way, it’s one or the other.”

I shoved the rest of my eggs in my mouth and we were off again. This time I rented a car and we drove up and down every street. Once we got bored at looking at houses, down to the beach we flew. She sat next to me like a statue with her hands folded neatly between her thighs. She turned her head every once in a while but other than that she kept still. When we got to the beach I jumped out of the car and ran to the shore. It was already getting dark and the water felt cold on my feet.

“I’m not going in.” She cried as she caught up from behind. It was windy.

“Neither am I.”

I decided I was up for a cold swim so I took off my clothes and jumped in. At first she just stared at me as I bobbed up and down in the waves. I thought she was going to make another run for it. Then she took off my giant shoes I had loaned her and started running into the water. She would run back to shore as soon as the waves would rush in. I bobbed up and down. She squealed as the waves chased her back to the dry sand.

Ch. 3

I dropped off the car at the rental facility and then we walked back to the apartment. Her shoes made a lot of sound as she walked so I got fed up and we stopped at a shoe store.

“Don’t waste your money,” she said. “I won’t even be here in the morning.”

I didn’t believe her though. I felt as if she would be hanging around for the rest of my life. She was so strange. This whole incident was so strange. But somehow it just made sense that she was going to stick around this time.

I insisted on buying her a pair of tennis shoes that she seemed partial towards. The shoes had a blue stripe on each side. The woman selling us the shoes was a gypsy. She grasped Aubin’s dry hands and tried to coax us into her fortune telling room. The gypsy wanted every penny we had, and our clothes too.

We left with empty pockets but I didn’t care. I was supposed to receive my monthly stipend tomorrow from my friend Dante. Dante was addicted to gambling and together we had started an underground scene for some of the richest men in New Orleans looking to play with high stakes. The action occurred under his papa’s Italian bistro. Of course we charged the men an entrance fee because this was illegal and we weren’t going to risk our necks for nothing and second of all we made s**t load of money off of that entrance fee because one would have to travel to Nevada to find a decent high stakes poker game. You couldn’t find a better place to gamble all your money away and those men sure loved the thrill of risking tens and thousands of dollars. Anyways, we held these gambling sessions every Saturday. The entrance fee, split between Dante and I, provided me with a comfortable income of about ten thousand a month. Of course, I told anyone who asked that I was a writer.

Ch.4

I lay down on the floor of my apartment and chewed on my thoughts. Aubin took the bed. I concluded the night by stating: “In case I don’t meet you again, I think you ought to know that I think you’re a strange person.” Silence. “Thanks. But I can’t return the compliment. Everything about today bored me.”

“No offense, madam, but you didn’t make much of an effort.”

I heard her shuffle around in the bed and then there fell a complete silence for the rest of the night.

Ch.5

The opera music flowed through the thin walls in waves of passion. It came from the room directly below mine belonging to a decrepit man. Everyone called him Chester. He had lived in the apartment for several years and often accompanied a young lady with fierce brown eyes and a strong nose. She would stay for several days, decide to leave the old man, and then the opera music blared throughout the apartment both day and night. People who only stayed for a couple days in the apartment would bang on his door and command that the music is turned off, but the old man was too drunk and delirious to comprehend. Everyone assumed they were lovers even though she was much younger than he. Today, he played La Traviata.

I sat up with a stiff neck from sleeping on the hardwood floor and saw Aubin sleeping. She was trembling like a coffee cup being rocked in an earthquake, but her face was dead. This was it. She was here to stay. With that thought, a loud crash was heard below and the music was swallowed and forced up the steps. Water seeped under the door and I could hear a tidal wave approach the door. In seconds, my room was in an explosion of water. The walls had broken and we landed on the pavement, everything spilling out along the road. I landed on my head and woke up. Aubin was still here, and La Traviata flooded on.