It was no longer clear what was a dream and what was reality. A planet — densely populated by beings like yourself, or this endlessly empty darkness.
Those few lights, like the flickering of fireflies, left wounds on the black canvas, then dissolved into it without a trace. I, like a ship on the open sea, followed each new beacon as it appeared, until finally, I ended up here. Here...
"And where exactly is 'here'?"
Collapsing to the floor from exhaustion, I no longer felt solid ground beneath me. It seemed as though my body was gradually sinking deeper into this bottomless dark ocean. My mind felt entirely out of sorts, as though darkness was seeping into it through cracks. And here, in the silence, embraced by a materialized shadow, time itself seemed to slow.
How many years had passed since I came to this place? At some point, I simply stopped counting the days, drifting along with the current that carried me. If this was reality, I wanted to fall asleep and become one of the wandering fireflies of the night. And if this was just a dream — would I eventually wake up? Did I want that? Definitely not.
"Will you simply resign yourself to what's happening?"
"Yes, why not?"
"And you don't want to change anything?"
"No, I'm perfectly fine with it."
Wait a minute — a voice. Whose voice was that?
"Who are you?"
The image of a girl, like moonlight, leaned over me, her hands gently touching my face. So cold and at the same time so tender — like an autumn breeze. As if on the other side of a glassy surface of water, she touched her forehead to mine, creating ripples that illuminated the surrounding space. The gloomy void began filling with colors, as if painted by an artist's brush. The world seemed to break into fragments, but instead of chaos came something familiar. After a few moments, I felt the cold of tiled floor beneath my feet, and the familiar outlines of a one-room studio took shape around me.
The main room combined a lounge area, a bedroom and a kitchen. The first thing that caught the eye was the light-colored sofa by the window. In front of it stood a small glass coffee table on metal legs. Above the sofa, a narrow wall shelf hung on the wall with a few thick books and decorative figurines. Instead of a bed, a tucked-in futon was spread out on the floor along the wall. A lamp stood on a nightstand nearby, emitting a soft blue light, merging the room with the hues of the city.
Like a moth flying into the light of the lamp, I took one step at a time toward the window. It served as a sort of monitor with a live wallpaper, offering a view of a city unknown to me, bathed in an ocean of countless stars. The glow of the moon colored the sky and the cityscape in the same blue tones. With my hand pressed against the glass, I watched the peaceful picture of a sleeping world-a world in which I was not.
For some reason, at that moment, I wished it would start to rain. Not that I loved it, I guess I just wanted someone to be sad for me. But apparently there was no one.
The universe had made it clear that all these things - all of them - would one day disappear. So there's no reason to grieve for just one grain of sand leaving the vast desert, right?
— Nothing disappears without a trace.
Although my voice sounded calm, I felt as if I had plunged into an ice hole. Frozen in place, my eyes slowly traveled to the hand resting on my shoulder. So small and so delicate, like a sakura petal barely touching the ground. Swallowing hard, I turned around to its owner.
I was greeted by a girl with long hair the color of the first snow. Because of her pale white skin and indifferent expression, it seemed as if her face was hollowed out of ice. Thin, bluish lips and eyes as gray and cold as the moon.
Her words hung in the air but didn't reach me. "Nothing disappears without a trace." Perhaps she was trying to say something philosophical, something encouraging, but it sounded like a distant echo, barely touching my thoughts.
Thinking about it some more, I came to the conclusion that perhaps she was talking about ghosts. About those ephemeral creatures that remain in the memories of the living when they are no more. The memories we hold of those who have left us turn them into ghosts, bring them to life in our imagination, bring them back into our dreams. But, strange as it may sound, I disappeared the moment I died. Leaving behind no trace, no whisper in the hearts of others. I was never even meant to be a ghost.
— Who are you?
Ignoring my question, she removed her hand and turned to walk toward the kitchen bar. She was wearing a black qipao with snow-white patterns, as if embroidered with diamond threads, and a long vertical neckline that exposed one leg. With every step she took, white sequins spread out in all directions, making it seem as if she were floating above the ground.
Her image was so mesmerizing that it was easier to mistake it for fiction. It was like a fairy who scattered confetti on the ground with a wave of her magic wand. It seemed that if he touched her, she would burst into spangles, leaving behind a handful of magical dust. To be fair, the habitat didn't match its inhabitant at all.
— Glad to hear I look so magical to you, — she commented.
And that means you didn't let it go unnoticed, huh? Wait, what?
— But I didn't say anything, — I wondered.
— You don't need to.
What would that mean? Was my admiration involuntarily reflected on her face? Or did everyone she'd ever met before think the same of her?
— Wipe your drool, you'll stain the carpet, — she said, turning around and moving her index finger up and down.
I wiped my lips, but they were dry and cracked. Examining the floor, I also found no sign of any liquids, nor, for that matter, of the carpet.
It might have looked like a joke if there had been any reaction coming from the trail. But the girl's face remained unfazed, as if she was speaking in all seriousness. I ran my finger over my lips once more, but the result remained the same. I looked at the girl in disbelief.
— A joke, — she said shortly.
It was obvious. Though not from the start. Should I have laughed? I'm not sure.
Getting no reaction, the girl sat down at the bar stool at the counter, and with a light tap on the seat next to her, invited me to join her.
From the window to the kitchen was not much more than a distance, and quickly crossing it, I sat down across from her. Looking at her face, carved as if from polished ice, I could feel the icy coldness radiating from her, tingling my skin. She was also incredibly beautiful. Her nearly transparent skin seemed as fragile as the finest ice, fracturing the light in a myriad of shimmering shards.
Yet, as beautiful as this girl was, I couldn't admire her forever. Continuing in silence, we sat there in the chairs behind the counter. Where a strange hunger-like feeling, after a fierce battle with shyness, gently nudged me to break the silence. But before I did...
— I... Hmmm... — Murmured the girl. Though I wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean.
— Hmm?
Her vague comment, like a sword swing, cut through all my attempts to say something. Because the initiative had been shamelessly stolen, all I could do was sit there at a loss to know what would happen next. No matter how unsure she sounded, the girl's face remained unwavering. It was so unnatural, but at the same time, mysterious.
— You'll have to travel to a new world, the one behind the glass, — she finally said, pointing her finger at the window.
I continued to silently observe the girl's behavior. A few moments passed and she still didn't move, as if completely turned into a statue. Maybe she was waiting for some kind of reaction from me? Perhaps.
I had often pondered death before. Like everyone else on Earth. For some it was salvation, for others, the worst nightmare. But for me, death always remained an inevitable end, devoid of poetry and drama. And I didn't want it to be otherwise.
"I want every man to be able to be reborn. Then he could easily realize all his dreams. And even if things went wrong in this life, he would not be discouraged, but, considering his mistakes, he would correct them in the new one." - I've often heard these words from someone I've talked to a lot in the past.
I once shared his aspirations. The idea of a new life was tempting. I thought it would be as simple as the anime stories - to be reborn in a magical world, go on a fairy-tale journey, and survive epic battles. But reality trampled on my childish reverie. Instead of the dream of rebirth there was only the emptiness of office everyday life, where even death seemed something mundane and gray.
And why, pray tell, did this opportunity come to me? A man who had lost his passion and his sense of adventure.
Sighing heavily, I looked away from the window, watching the city bathed in the soft light of the streetlamps. Their bright bluish glow enveloped the sidewalk, the thin streets, and the spires of the houses, giving everything around me an ephemeral, almost fairy-tale appearance. Time seemed to stand still, and the whole world was drowned in a bizarre interweaving of light and shadows.
But no matter how alien and mysterious this world was, I felt that in its essence it was not much different from mine. The gray everyday life was replaced by new scenery, but the eternal cycle remained the same. Laws, resources, struggles - everything repeated itself, as if according to a pre-written script.
The freedom I so desperately craved was slipping away again, like leaves carried away by the wind. It beckoned with its illusion, but left only a feeling of emptiness and an endless chase for the unattainable.
— Don't you want to? — she asked confusedly.
— Do I have a choice?
— Of course... I think... — uncertainly, the girl said.
It wasn't clear what choice she was offering, but at first glance, any other option seemed more attractive to me than starting all over again.
I returned my gaze to the girl, scrutinizing her face. But, as before, nothing could be discerned from her simple expression.
— And what do you have to offer me? Death?
There was a challenge in that word, but also curiosity. What was it like? An eternal journey through darkness was the first thing that came to mind. It seemed as grueling as life itself. So it's the same thing? Is this the only thing I have left?
The girl shook her head, — No, it isn't. You can stay with me.
— With you? Just like that?
— What's so hard about it? — the girl wondered.
— But we don't know each other at all. What if I'm dangerous?
Her suggestion raised a lot of questions. It's not that I'm dangerous... No, I'm not. I was probably nothing at all right now. But her motives were as unclear to me as my own.
— Are you dangerous? — she tilted her head slightly, looking at me intently.
I was confused by her simplicity and nonchalance. Even if we both knew the answer to that question, I was still a guy, right? Well, I guess.
— Well... no. I don't think so. But what are we gonna do?
Her gaze seemed completely blank, like two mirrors that reflected only what was in front of their eyes. No matter how hard I tried to look deeper, all I could see was my own reflection. This feeling of alienation permeated every cell of my being, making me wonder if I could ever break through this ice if I stayed? Or would I just slip and fall?
— I don't know, — she shook her head.
— You don't know? — I repeated.
— Does it matter? We'll just be... together.
"Together?" The word echoed in my head, making my body freeze for a moment. Could it be that this girl was just feeling lonely? There was a chance that she just wanted someone to talk to, rather than being busy recruiting candidates for heroes of the new world.
Was I comfortable with that explanation? Maybe. At least, I'd like it to be true.
— Tell me, — she began, breaking the silence, — you humans have always been considered among the most ambitious of creatures. Why don't you want to go to the new world? What about your dreams, your aspirations, your unfinished business?
— Hmm. it's hard to explain.
— Try, — she nudged gently.
— I just… don't have any.
— You don't? — her voice sounded calm, but with a hint of bewilderment.
— Work to live and live to work, — I grinned, baring my teeth in a crooked smile, — That's all. No great goals or dreams. I just wanted to be free of it all... to be free.
— Free? What does free mean to you?
Her question came over me like a landslide. My shoulders slumped involuntarily and my lips fell open, but the words lodged somewhere in my throat. What was it I was looking for?
It would be a lie to say I hadn't thought about it. But no matter how many times I asked myself that question, the answer never came. Freedom from what? From obligations? From people? Or from myself?
I wanted freedom more than anything. For it, I was willing to give up everything I held dear, but now... now I felt like I didn't know what it was at all. What did I want? Complete independence? Peace of mind? Or just an escape from what had bound me before?
— When you dream about something, you think it can change your life. But then you realize that even the fulfillment of the dream does not bring peace. You are pushed to keep going and strive higher. They drive you forward like a horse under spurs, not letting you stop.... You know, it would be easier for me if I didn't know that dreams can come true..... Perhaps, for me, freedom is about getting rid of this light that deceptively lures me into its chains, but, I'm not sure what it really looks like for me anymore.
— I see.
.
And so we began to coexist in this modest space. Her constant silent presence, with occasional statements, gradually became an integral part of my daily routine. Gradually I realized that she had become an important part of my existence. How long had it been since then for this to happen? Honestly, I can't remember now.
Outwardly, she looked like a girl, but who was she really? That question didn't bother me too much in the beginning. My attention was focused on my own torment, and as long as my path was covered with thorns, I didn't notice anyone around me. Now back to the beginning, however, perhaps I should start with her appearance. It was the few things I could be sure of. Or at least I thought so.
— I'm a girl, — she said suddenly, continuing to stare into nothing.
— Huh? — her statement prompted me to turn to her, — Yeah, I see. Sure, — I mumbled.
My brain had already stopped responding to her unexpectedly accurate comments. It would be more accurate to say that it was beginning to take them for granted. It was as if no matter what I was distracted by or wherever I was, my voice was always able to reach her. It was convenient and inconvenient at the same time.
.
The days flew by in the blink of an eye. Even though the picture outside the window didn't change, my biological clock assured me that time kept passing. I never learned the girl's name, and even though she knew mine, I never introduced myself to her. But is it really that important to know someone's name? Depends on the situation, I guess.
Being alone, as if on a deserted island, not taking into account conversations with myself, it became obvious who was addressing whom. Since then, though, we haven't been able to have a long conversation. That's normal, right? I'd like to believe so.
Sprawled out on the couch, legs and arms spread apart like a starfish, I wondered. Who are we to each other? Nobody - the most logical conclusion, it seemed to me. Two extraneous characters who coincidentally find themselves locked in the same room.
Maybe she's uncomfortable with my presence. What am I talking about? Of course she's uncomfortable. As I moved into the living room, she still hadn't moved, frozen in her chair. I would have mistaken her for an android with a dead battery, but where would a synthetic organism come from in a place like this.... wherever I am.
— Look, uh. well, ahem, — I'm having a harder time starting a conversation than I thought.
— Yeah? She turned to me.
— Is it okay that I'm crashing on the couch while the missus is in the chair? - I asked awkwardly, scratching my cheek.
— No, it's fine, — she assured me.
— I see.
— Yes, — she confirmed.
Keeping the conversation going was no easier than putting together a monochrome puzzle. Obviously, I knew that. And at the best of times, I'd struggled to keep a conversation going. But what about her? Could it be that she and I are alike and that's why we have a hard time holding conversations?
Could it be that we were the reason?
I turned my face toward the window, where I was greeted by the unchanging landscape. The soft light from the lamp caressed my eyes, making me drowsy, but no matter how many times I tried to fall asleep, I failed.
Stripped of my daily routine, the passage of time seemed more monotonous than before. I felt I had to dispel the awkward silence that had arisen between us, but a sense of constraint limited my ability to do so. I had never felt so helpless in my life.
— You don't have to say anything.
— Ah... I... Huh. 'Right, unlike me, you can read minds,' — I thought.
— That's right, — she nodded.
Did she actually confirm it? Just like that?
— Not that being your guest I'm at liberty to say that, but it's not very polite.
— It makes it easier for me to understand you. Do you mind?
— I don't mind, but what if I start thinking indecent things?
— Like what? — She was surprised, or so I thought.
— Imagining you without a dress, for example, — I replied, throwing up my hand nonchalantly.
— I doubt you'll be able to see anything new there.
Her voice sounded as calm as ever. Not a muscle in her face trembled. Was she not at all embarrassed to be in the same room with such a pervert? Oh, stop. That's not what I meant.
Not that I want to see her without clothes, but I definitely don't agree that she doesn't have anything to look at. Her figure was slender and graceful, with slight hips that gave a certain grace. Her breasts were of modest size, but that was more than enough for me. It only added to her sophistication.
No, I definitely don't want to see her naked. How could I look her in the eye afterward? But my thoughts, as if succumbing to a forbidden desire, traitorously painted her image as if her dress had become almost transparent, revealing more than I was allowed to see.
I felt the heat sweep over my cheeks, as if a fire had erupted inside me. Burning with embarrassment, I hastily buried my face in my palms. "It's not like I'm a pervert," I convinced myself. — How can I think of her like that? I mean, it's wild, it's wrong..."
As I glanced again at the girl who was sitting calmly in her seat, I felt the shame overwhelm me with a new force, burning me to my ears. Common sense seemed to slowly slip away, leaving inappropriate images and fantasies in its place. My inner voice seemed to accept my fate as a pervert, despite my best efforts to control myself.
— I see, — she nodded, her tone flat, almost indifferent.
— No, no, that's not it... — my eyes widened with horror, my voice trembling.
She turned away, her gaze sliding to the side as if it were an insignificant moment, not worth noting.
— Don't think about it too hard, — she said calmly.
Her words hit me harder than I'd expected. Like a knife to the stomach, they dissected my self-esteem, leaving me defenseless in the face of my own humiliation. I was pathetic. The urge to curl up and disappear became almost unbearable, but there was no escape.
It was a long time before I could curb my shame. I sat with my knees drawn up to my chest, like a frightened animal hiding in its hole. It was the only time we had anything in common-an outward resemblance to a silent statue. Only in silence and stillness did I find any semblance of peace.
— Let me show you something.
I raised my head, looking at her with a puzzled expression. Her words sounded unexpected, almost unreal. Did she want to show me something? But what could it be? I blinked a few times, trying to make sure I hadn't misheard.
— Show you something? — I asked cautiously.
She nodded, adding calmly, — The place.
Her ability to shatter my fragile equilibrium so easily and effortlessly was almost surprising. Obviously, the first thought that flashed through my mind had nothing to do with reality, and I quickly dismissed it. But I felt as if she were playing with me on purpose.
— Sure, s-sounds great, — I said, my voice trembling.
She rose from her seat, her movements graceful, almost dance-like, leaving the impression that she was floating above the ground. The hem of her dress, the slight rustle of the fabric-all of it giving her steps an elusive magic-she approached me, holding out her hand. Her fingers were thin, delicate, like the petals of a flower about to open to the sun.
I froze for a moment, mesmerized by her calm confidence and the softness of her movements. Slowly, as if afraid of ruining this fragile moment, I reached out to her in return. Her palm was warm and soft, like silk sliding over my skin. There was something soothing about that touch, something light and cold at the same time.
In an instant, as our hands entwined with each other, the world around us spun, as if we were in the center of a vortex. Colors that had previously been distinct and different began to blur, merging into a deep, velvet indigo, as if a celestial veil was descending over us. The night sky unfolded before us, dotted with countless stars, twinkling like a scattering of jewels. Strong gusts of wind came out of nowhere and rushed past, caressing our skin and rippling through our clothes as if trying to catch up with us.
I froze, trying to breathe in the suddenly fresh air, but my lungs were empty. Everything around me seemed like a mirage, deceptively beautiful and frightening at the same time. Every breath was a futile attempt to grasp the elusive, and I can't understand why this is happening.
We were standing in the middle of a crystal clear body of water, its surface shimmering, reflecting the starry sky like a vast mirror. The bottom was visible even in the dim night light - small rocks and seaweed swayed in the water, creating a sense of tranquility. Mountain ranges towered around us, their silhouettes gently merging with the horizon, and the forests on the slopes whispered in the wind, completing the picture of mysterious harmony. The shores alternated between rocky cliffs and gentle slopes leading to sandy beaches.
The wind fluttered my T-shirt, its fabric rising and fluttering like a sail, ready to catch a tailwind and carry me into the unknown. Every gust of air enveloped me, making me feel lighter, as if I could float above this serene water surface. The illusion of a huge aquarium stretched out beneath my feet, and as I stepped from foot to foot, I could feel my movements merging with the rhythm of this magical place.
The moment was captivating in its beauty and tranquility. Everything around me seemed plucked from the heart of dreams - so unreal, yet so alive and real.
— What is this place? — I asked with admiration.
— Some call it the Moon Lake, others call it the Cursed Lake. It depends on who is looking at it. For some it is a place of power and wonder, for others a reminder of loss and pain.
Her voice grew quieter, with a tinge of bitterness that slipped in unbidden shadows:
— But for me... this is the birthplace of the moon. This is where she first appeared, illuminating the world with her light. This is also where it disappeared.
Our gazes met again, but in the depths of her eyes there was a sky full of stars, and something else, a sadness hidden beneath a layer of calm.
— You can give it your name, your meaning. Because it will be different for everyone.
I don't know why, but I thought she looked worried. Her eyes were slightly dilated, her lips ajar, as if she feared the conclusion I might have reached. It was obvious that this place was dear to her. Her gaze spoke that louder than any words.
Looking at this mysterious landscape, I couldn't help but recognize its power. Here, surrounded by starlight and under the silent watch of the moon, I felt a strange peace. It was as if invisible currents of air could lift me into the heavens, freeing me from the bonds of earth.
— I don't know what happened here, but..... I think the name Moon Lake is perfect for this place, — I said, staring at nothing in general, — Regardless of what anyone who looks at it feels, this water surface, reflecting the myriad stars and the gentle light of the moon, is mesmerizing, — I smiled softly and returned my gaze to the girl.
— Really? — Her voice sounded relieved, but there was something else in it....
The moment she smiled at me for the first time, my breath caught. Not that I could breathe at all, but it felt as if the air had suddenly disappeared. Her former icy appearance seemed to crumble away like sand, and a beautiful flower began to bloom in its place. It took root deep in my heart, filling it with warmth and light.
— I really love this place, — she said with her hands behind her back.
— Ah, yes, I understand, — I said, scratching the back of my head.
This magical landscape reawakened a long-forgotten childhood dream of traveling. When I was young, it was easy: I just had to follow my parents to discover new horizons. But as I got older, things changed. I locked myself inside the four walls of my apartment, content with only brief respites from the hustle and bustle and routine.
There was so much I couldn't do while I was living. Work absorbed all the energy and time, and the rare free minutes lost their value, turning into something gray and meaningless. As is most often the case, the traveler was replaced by an ordinary office clerk.
— Come on, this isn't all I wanted to show you, — the girl said, holding out her hand to me.
I looked down at her hand, then at mine. Absorbed in the beauty of the world around me, I didn't even notice when our hands separated. Clenching and unclenching my fingers, I realized I'd lost the feeling of her warmth. Maybe it was just a play of imagination.
Under the evening sky, we moved west, or maybe east. Admittedly, I'd never been very good at identifying the sides of the world. It used to be enough for me to look at my smartphone screen and follow its directions. But now, without any devices, I was following my guiding star - her palm clutching mine tightly, leading me through the unknown.
I looked down at my feet, leaving barely visible footprints on the water surface that were quickly disappearing as if they had never existed. The water beneath our feet seemed inexplicably hard, as if we were walking on a glass bridge. There was silence all around, broken only by the slight splash of waves somewhere in the distance.
Ahead, at the foot of one of the mountains, we could see a dark hole surrounded by scorched terrain. Puffs of smoke rose from the coal-black earth, curling in the air like ghostly snakes. I squinted, trying to figure out how I'd missed it before.
How, and more importantly, when had it formed there?
We stopped at its edge, and I felt the girl's hand tremble slightly. By the mere sight of it, it was clear that this place was not a pleasant experience for either of us. She looked up at me, her eyes glistening in the light of the moon. But even it couldn't completely block out the sense of longing that lurked in her gaze.
I think I was beginning to understand her a little better, wasn't I?
— And this. Where did this come from? — I asked, pointing my finger at the hole.
The corners of her mouth twitched faintly as she put a finger to her lips. I nodded and stepped carefully, following the girl. The narrow cleft greeted us with silence, deafening and pressing, as if the space around us had ceased to exist. I held her hand tightly as my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness.
The walls, damp to the touch but lacking their usual coolness, glistened in the flickering light reflected off something invisible. Protruding stones, like chaotically scattered steps, served as our only supports. Only the sound of pebbles that had accidentally fallen off and echoed around us broke this strange silence.
After a long descent into the depths, we finally came to the edge of the cliff. It opened before us like a huge maw, swallowing everything around it. The loud roar of the water crashing against the rocks was ear-splitting, making us slightly dizzy. The waterfalls that a moment ago had merged into the mirror-like surface of the lake, now disappeared into the darkness, devoid of bottom and end.
Everything looked unnatural here. The bottomless pit, like the mark of the sword of an ancient God's wrath, gaped with black emptiness, like an unhealed scar. And looking into it, as if into the eyes of the abyss itself, my knees shook with terror.
— That's why they call it the Cursed Lake, — her lips seemed to move silently, but the sound of her voice reached me unhindered.
— But how? Why? — I shouted my voice so that she could hear me.
— Don't scream, I can hear you perfectly well, — she grinned, tilting her head slightly, — Sin is not only inherent in humans.... After all, they are only the likeness of Gods, — her eyes lingered on the void in front of us, — What you see is the result of betrayal and deception. These feelings have left the same mark, both in the earth and in your heart.
In your heart? Whose heart? Was this the right moment to ask that? It made me wonder, but in the end, I decided not to think about it too hard.
— I'm sorry.
By this point, I was no longer cracking my voice. Though I could barely make out my own words, the girl seemed to hear me well.
— It's not your fault. Regardless of our desires, things change around us.
— I understand.
Now, to be clear, her voice didn't reach my ears. Rather, it came from my head, like a quiet whisper generated by my own imagination. So close and distant at the same time.
— What about you? What place would you call special?
— Hmm?
I ran my hand over the back of my head, trying to remember anything that could be called special. But no matter how hard I tried, only the monotonous scenes from the office and the apartment came to mind. The clatter of keyboard keys monotonously beating out the rhythm of the workday. The sound of energy cans opening, reminding me of unpaid overtime. The rustling of papers that seemed endless, like a horizon whose end could never be reached
Every morning began the same way. I would get up, make coffee, drive to the office, sit down at my desk and immerse myself in work. Calls, meetings, documentation, reports. Evenings were no different - the same couch, the same TV screen, the same subtle noise from the open window.
It seemed that even now I could reconstruct in detail in my memory the admonitions from my superiors, every criticism and reminder of deadlines that had long ago become part of the background, like an old radio tuned to the same wave.
Nothing in particular. Nothing that made my heart beat faster or my head lift from my desk. Everything blended into one gray mass that stretched on day after day, year after year.
Can I call it "special"? No. Definitely not.
— I don't think I have anything like it.
— No? — the girl was surprised.
— Once upon a time, I've been to a lot of beautiful places, but..... They're hardly special to me if I can't even remember any of them.
— Really?
— Why do you ask?
— Really, why?
She put a finger to the corner of her mouth, looking up enigmatically. Her gaze looked playful, but there was something else in it. Even though she spoke confidently, I still couldn't understand anything, as if we were speaking different languages.
I involuntarily bowed my head trying to solve this mystery. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see the forest for the trees. Instead, I noticed how much her behavior had changed since we'd first met. The way she talked so much, the way her lips moved to portray a smile or longing, and how relaxed she moved. Yes, she had definitely changed.
I could call her more open, but that wasn't entirely true. She seemed to be hiding just as much as she was revealing.
— Oh, you've noticed that, haven't you? — She grinned, — Then why don't you notice it about yourself?
— What do you mean? I don't understand, — her words made me more and more confused.
— You've made yourself believe that you're an open, honest person, — she said calmly, but I felt something tense inside, — But are you? Do you really believe that people lost interest in you because you were boring?
It wasn't about what exactly the girl was saying, but rather why? I didn't know what to say, or maybe I just didn't want to. Her voice sounded calm, but there was an undercurrent of reproach in it that made me uncomfortable. Why is she talking about this? What did it have to do with the case? I didn't understand it.
— Maybe your "honesty" - was just a mask. An invisible wall you'd built to keep anyone from digging deeper.
She closed her eyes quietly, as if remembering something. Even in the darkness of the night, I could see her shoulders slump irritably. As she softly opened her eyes, my tongue drew circles in my mouth, desperately searching for the right words. It was hard to explain, but with every movement of her eyelids, I felt like my stomach was twisting into a knot.
— The wider your embrace, the easier it is to crucify you, and so you chose to wrap your arms around yourself, — she finally continued, staring blankly as if through me, — Hiding in the corner of your apartment, trembling in fear that the whole world is against you. Is this the freedom you dreamed of?
Her words, one after another, came at me like a snow avalanche: as cold, heavy, and merciless. She looked away, turned toward the abyss, and her long snow-white hair fluttered in the wind like cracks in ice. The air around us became as icy as her voice.
We'd never been particularly close, but now the distance between us seemed insurmountable. Everything I'd thought, understood, or maybe wanted to understand about her crumbled to dust.
Mind-reading was intimidating in itself, but now I felt like she was seeing much deeper, reaching into my very soul. I was like a piece of paper in her fingers that was about to be torn.
— Why... Why are you telling me all this?
She looked at me over her shoulder again, squinting her eyes slightly with a mixture of cold and warmth. It seemed that summer and winter were coming closer together at the same time.
— What do you think? - Her voice sounded almost soft, but that didn't make it any easier, — There are only the two of us here, the two of us in this illusory world. If you want to keep hiding in your corner, I won't stop you. But if you want more, you're going to have to change a lot of things. About yourself. The way you look at me. The world. Otherwise we'll remain like two frozen stone statues, near and far at the same time.
She continued to stare at me, which sent a chill through my body. I could feel ghostly droplets of sweat running down my back. Subconsciously, I shared her opinion, but it obviously wasn't enough. I always thought time was on my side. But her patience didn't seem to extend into eternity.
— Change doesn't happen at the snap of fingers, you know, — I murmured.
She tilted her head slightly to the side, her smile thin, almost mocking.
— Don't worry, I'm willing to wait for you to change, but not while you're thinking.
For the next few moments, I pondered this, but nothing like confidence ever dawned on me. However, driven by fear or something else, I had no choice but to agree.
— Then, take the first step. Show me a place you care about.
She held out her hand to me before I could respond. I stared at her palm as if she had stretched a bridge over the abyss.
"Tell me who your friend is and I'll tell you who you are." She seemed to be guided by something similar. By asking me to show her a dear place, it was as if she was demanding proof that I was really going to change. Except...
— I'm... I'm really not sure...
She lowered her head, shaking it to the side, — Until you kick a rock, it won't move, right?
— Hmm?
She grabbed my wrist and, without giving me a second to protest, leaned back, pulling me into the abyss.
A semblance of air escaped my lungs with a short shriek, and then silence swallowed everything. The sound of the water roaring around us was suddenly cut short, as if the world had frozen, holding its breath. We were falling, and I could feel my dead heart convulsing somewhere from the depths, coming up to my throat.
The darkness beneath us was gaping, cold, thick, like ink that had dissolved into the air. I tried to make out something-the bottom, the outline of the walls, the slightest glimmer of light. But all I could see was the soft trail of luminous dust left by the girl's hair.
The cold cut into my skin. Every second was drenched in sticky fear: what if there was no bottom at all? What if we fall forever, slowly disappearing until there's nothing left?
Her hand holding my wrist was the only reality I could cling to. She didn't seem afraid at all. It was as if this abyss was just home to her, and the fall was a return.
"What if we do reach the bottom?"
I imagined the impact that would tear my body apart. Imagined the dark water swallowing us up, dragging us to its bottom. But what if it's just me? What if death, once again, threatened only me? Searing, painful and not at all like a dream.
— What are you are you doing? — My voice sounded muffled, as if it was swallowed up by my surroundings.
There was a lot left unsaid, a lot left unanswered. And, as expected, she didn't answer. She turned her head for a moment, and there was nothing in her eyes-no fear, no doubt. Just a cold, frightening peace.
I tried not to think. Tried not to feel. But the more I tried, the more I felt the terror creeping in, traveling through my veins to my fingertips.
And then, somewhere on the edge of consciousness, a humility began to dawn: what if this is the bottom? What if I've already crashed, and now I'm only falling deeper, leaving behind what was once me?
Taking one last look at the girl's back, I smiled weakly, slowly closing my eyes. Not that it made any difference, but it made me feel calmer for some reason.
And suddenly... birdsong?