insomnia [✔]

scene. vi

Madeleine woke up with a start. Her alarm clock had gone off like every morning since she had moved into this apartment. She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyelids. It always took her a few minutes before she was fully awake. Those who pretended to be fresh and ready at first light were either liars or just inhumane.

The dark haired girl sighed. She tried to remember what she had done the night before. It seemed to her that she had had a drink with colleagues. There was a relaxed and friendly atmosphere. Maybe she had even danced! Madeleine sneered at the idea. She? To dance? That sounded beyond stupid. Finally, she put her feet on the floor, and surprised by the coldness of it, she hastened to find her slippers which she put on promptly.

So it was now wide awake that she dragged her feet to the kitchen to make herself a coffee. It was still early. Maybe she would have time to read a chapter of this mystery novel that had been offered to her. She had been reading it for several months now, but everyday events had conspired to disturb her reading. This morning, at least she could immerse herself in this novel and savor its intrigue, smoothly conducted, it seems. She wouldn't think of anything else, and maybe she'd even take it on the bus, enough to distract her during the trip.

Maybe she would discuss it with Samantha; which would speak to him of a movie so similar to the book. Then they will have to take care of the customers. Afterwards, perhaps they will continue their discussion during the break, before changing the subject. The young woman already felt it, it would be an ordinary morning, but still a good one.

So she sat down, her cup of coffee in her hand, and opened the book to the page she had marked to remember the passage where she had stopped. She was also surprised by a small rectangular card on which was written a landline number. Perhaps she had jotted down a number in a hurry, forgetting to specify a name or a place? However, that meant nothing to her. So she inspected the card that brought up no memories in her. How could this card have landed here?

Madeleine stared at the card for a long time, then an intuition struck her: what if it was geographic coordinates instead of a telephone number? Without wasting a single moment, the young woman rushed to her computer station to type in the coordinates. She ends up finding several results, some of them interesting. So she clicked on related searches and a picture of a man in his mid-50s popped up on the screen. This was an article about donations...generally around the philanthropy of far from ordinary people.

"Bruce...Wayne..." Madeleine read aloud and when she turned back to her still open book, she made out the illustration to which she had only given a few glances.

A mansion as majestic as it was sinister unfolded on the right-hand page. Madeleine shivered slightly, because there was this aestheticism that will remind her only too well of the universe of Dracula and other protagonists of the genre. This idea reinforced his questioning: who could have deposited this card? And how did this person do it? Madeleine sighed in annoyance, because it seemed crazy to her.

She remained thinking for a long time, then a crazy idea crept into her mind: why not check directly on the spot? However, it was necessary to plan a trip from San Francisco to Gotham, a city where she had never set foot. That was good, because it was Friday and she wasn't working the next day. So she mentally set out an organization that consisted of leaving the same evening and returning on Sunday, preferably very early in the morning or at the beginning of the afternoon.

Madeleine got ready, then, and went to work, as she does every morning. Worked as usual, exchanged a few jokes and topical issues, but told no one about her project except Samantha whom she trusted. The redhead, who suddenly showed a little mistrust, offered Madeleind to accompany her. But the dark haired girl assured that it was not necessary.

"And your friend is getting married this weekend" did not fail to recall Madeleine.

Samantha conceded but still urged her friend to be very careful. She suggested that this billionaire Mr. Wayne was a dangerous sociopath, wherever his mansion might be haunted by dark forces. Madeleine merely laughed at the assumptions more than her Samantha's wacky ones, even going so far as to promise to bring her back a keepsake, namely, a selfie with Mr. Wayne nobody. Joking in turn, Samantha made him promise to do so, otherwise there was no point in coming back.

In the evening, the two friends went to the airport. They were just chatting, until the time came for Madeleine to complete the formalities before boarding. So they said goodbye with a lot of hugs, then the dark-haired girl took the same path as the other passengers.

Once on the plane, she felt a little more relaxed. She was going to do it and then go home. It wasn't a big deal. And although a little agitated by a thousand and one thoughts that crossed her mind, she dozed off. It didn't take long before he fell into a deep sleep filled with dreams.

She saw herself in a frilly ball gown, lace and corset, except that everything was black and purple. There were also a few beads in the shape of raindrops. She turned on her, slowly, to observe her surroundings. A corridor as wide as an alley. Everything exuded richness and refinement. She began to walk around the place. She had to hold on to parts of her dress in order to walk properly, but it still made a strange impression on her. She continued to walk, though, even though she wasn't sure where that hallway would lead her.

"Miss ?"

Madeleine barely opened her eyes. Then she realized that a flight attendant had touched her arm, to wake her up. Half of the passengers had already left the plane, so the young woman was one of the latecomers. She excused herself with an embarrassed smile, then retrieved her suitcase from the storage above her seat. Finally, she found herself at the main airport in New Jersey to confront new formalities. Then she would still have to get on a bus bound for Gotham. Her journey was not over yet.