The Destiny of Matthew, Page 2

  Chapter Two

  The noise of the horses’ hooves was now unbearable. This is not happening; it’s too much, thought Matthew. He tried again to get out of the woodland and return to the gallery. Damn! There is no way this is real, he thought to himself urgently.

  He then put a final great effort in moving his body back ... and succeeded.

  He backed into someone. He quickly turned around to face him. He then realised he was back in the gallery but he was still in shock. He rushed towards the exit away from this puzzled person, running at first but then walking very quickly after he spotted a security guard. He went down the main staircase, wanting to get outside, away from the mysterious picture. He could not believe what had just happened to him; it was like he had taken LSD or something.

  When he got outside, he began to run again in the general direction of his hotel. It was now dark. He looked around him a few times to see if anyone or anything was chasing him. After a few minutes he stopped, now feeling quite warm after his exertions in the cold. He looked at his watch: it was 5.12 p.m. He then realised he had better check his map to find out how to get back to his hotel, although he found this difficult; he just could not forget what had just happened to him. He forced himself to focus and planned his route. He no longer cared if any prospective thief saw him do so: he was too full of adrenalin.

  The part of the Ringstrasse he was on did not seem to have too many thieves in it, however, just a lot of people trying to keep warm while going home from work. Matthew walked among them and tried to make sense of what had happened to him. He knew that he had had some experience, the question was what? Was it, as he had asked himself when having it, a hallucination? Or, perhaps even more scary, was it real, which is to say, was he entering another world? But who was the girl? And what about the horsemen?

  But why he wondered would he have a hallucination? He did not take drugs and never had; he did not even drink much alcohol. Then he thought it was because he was in a foreign city on his own and he had been stressed out that day. Perhaps these two factors had joined together to produce the imaginary vision. He remembered reading once about a European writer who had travelled to the tropics for the first time. He had hallucinated and said in his book that this was quite common among those unfamiliar to the tropics. But Matthew was not in a totally different climate to the one he was used to.

  He then thought that it was because of his “unnormal” lifestyle. He was not a typical teenager who socialised a lot and had girlfriends; he mostly stayed at home in his bedroom reading and watching tv. In fact, had his parents not brought him to Vienna in the first place to try to make him “normal,” by getting him out of this lazy existence? Maybe this lifestyle was having its effect on his mental health. However, he refused to believe this, as he got to the Schubert part of the Ringstrasse on his way to his hotel. He might be a little different but he was no mental case.

  Then he remembered how real the experience was. Surely, he asked himself, if it had been a hallucination, it would not have felt thus? Even the girl’s pleas and horsemen galloping had seemed real in some way. It was not like in a dream, even a lucid one, where he could run or fly away. He crossed over the Aspernbruck bridge and returned to his hotel on the Praterstrasse.

  It was now 6.03 p.m. The old male hotel receptionist in the modern, clean-looking 3 Star hotel did not even glance at Matthew as he walked past on his way up to his room on the second floor. When he got there he went straight to the bed and lay on it still thinking of the possibilities.

  Just after 7 p.m, his parents interrupted his thoughts by knocking on his door. He shouted, ‘I’ll be out in a minute. See you in the lobby.’ He was not really in the mood to go out for dinner with them, even though he did feel a little hungry, but knew that if he did not go they would not stop asking him why not. He put his jacket back on and met them downstairs. They started to tell him where they had been and what they had seen. He tried to look interested as they went somewhere nearby; he was still trying to make sense of his experience.

  When they sat down in the old fashioned restaurant, they asked him what he had done. He told them everything - except the picture experience and the giggling waitresses, of course. As he was finishing his main course, they then asked him if he would like to come with them tomorrow to visit the nearby large Prater park. He said ‘no!’ perhaps a little too quickly and firmly, he thought. They then tried to persuade him; he could see the concerned look in their eyes that they usually had towards him. Finally, he could not take anymore and said he would decide tomorrow at breakfast. He also told them he was tired after such a long day and that he wanted an early night; it was now just after 8.47 p.m.

  He then left and walked back to the hotel alone. As he did so in the near empty streets, he noticed the sky was clear and he could see the stars and almost full moon. It was cold but he did not care; his mind was too busy worrying about other things. When he got back to his hotel room, he went straight to bed and then to sleep after being relieved that he was too tired to think any more about his experience today.

  Matthew was moving quickly in a dark corridor of a museum (the Kunsthistoricshes?) looking for something. He knew he had to find this thing or there would be problems. Next, the two waitresses from the coffee house appeared alongside him not giggling anymore but asking for his help. Then suddenly he heard the noise of horses again, very loud. They were chasing after him but they were not normal horses but half human. He began to run but they were too fast. They were almost on him...

  He woke up sweating. He looked around his room, sat up, and switched the bedside lamp on. He checked the time: it was 3.15 a.m.. He got up, went to the bathroom, and got himself a glass of water. He looked at himself in the big bathroom mirror. What was happening to him? he asked himself. First there was the experience at the museum and now the dream. Was he going mad or was something else going on? He did not know and went back to bed. But he could not sleep; he could not stop thinking about his experience yesterday.

  He thought again about it being a hallucination. If it were then why was it that particular picture brought in on? He had seen other pictures yesterday much more bright and vivid. This one was dark. Surely, there was more chance of having a hallucination with bright colours?

  Finally after shifting uncomfortably in his bed several times, he decided there were really only two conclusions he could draw. The first was that it had been a hallucination brought on by the stress and weirdness at being on his own in a foreign city, or because of his “unnormal” lifestyle, or a combination of both. The other conclusion was that it was real, even though this was fantastic.

  Based on these conclusions, he could do several things. With regard to the first, he could carry on the rest of his trip, ignore the picture, and get help when he got back home, or before if he hallucinated again.

  When it came to the second, there was really only one choice: to return to the picture and enter the world. The other choice of doing nothing was not really an option. The girl, whoever she was, seemed so desperate and needed help. Moreover, no matter how dangerous or weird the experience would be, he could not deny himself it, just as he had not denied himself the one of coming to Vienna in the first place.

  He then thought that returning to the picture would also be the best thing to do for the first conclusion as well. If the same experience happened again then he could get help for his mental problem now rather than later. But if nothing happened then he could consider the experience to have been a one off or a warning to him to sort out his life, or go mad.

  He felt very fearful about returning but he knew he had to do something decisive, or else he would never stop thinking about whether he was mad or not, or whether he was denying the girl help or himself a new experience. So he decided to return to the picture the next day. But he would only go there in the afternoon when there should be lots of people, so he could get help quickly if he needed it. Having made this decision, he went straight back to sleep.