The day passed in a blur.
Yunar barely remembered the classes. History, math, literature — everything slid through his mind without leaving a mark. He copied notes into his notebook, answered when called on, but it was like watching his own life through a fogged-up window.
Eren had tried to start a conversation during the break, something about a new game and plans for the weekend. Yunar nodded at the right moments, muttered vague replies. He didn't notice when his friend stopped talking and simply stood there, watching him with that worried expression he had seen so many times before.
"You okay?" Eren asked finally.
"Yeah."
Lie number two of the day.
The tears kept falling. The classmates kept staring. Yunar kept wiping them away.
When the last bell rang, he was one of the first out the door.
---
The house was empty when he got home.
No smell of food from the kitchen. No sound of television or radio. Just the heavy silence of a space waiting to be filled.
A note was stuck to the fridge with a cat magnet:
*"Went to the market. Back in an hour. Rice and chicken in the pot. — Mom"*
Yunar crumpled the note and tossed it in the bin. He wasn't hungry.
He went straight upstairs, dropped his backpack on the floor, and let himself fall onto the bed. The white ceiling had a thin crack in the upper right corner that he knew by heart. He had spent hours staring at it, trying not to think.
Trying not to feel.
It never worked.
He pulled the notebook from his backpack and opened it to the marked pages.
*"You cannot escape love. You are living an illusion. Wake up."*
*"Find me. It's the only way."*
The handwriting was clean, steady. Nothing shaky or rushed. Whoever had written it was certain of what they were saying.
Yunar turned more pages. Some were blank. Others had old sketches — meaningless doodles he had made years ago, back when he still believed that drawing might help organize his thoughts.
Then he stopped.
A new page had something written on it.
His heart lurched.
*"You are closer than you think."*
The handwriting was the same.
Yunar swallowed hard. His hands trembled slightly as he held the notebook. When had this appeared? It hadn't been there this morning. He was certain. Almost certain.
He dropped the notebook onto the bed as though it had burned him.
More tears fell, but this time they weren't only tears. There was something else — a weight in his chest, a familiar pressure rising in his throat.
Fear.
---
Night came slowly.
Yunar ate dinner in silence with his mother. She asked about school. He said everything was fine. She didn't push.
By nine o'clock he was back in his room. Lying down. Staring at the ceiling.
Sleep came faster than he expected.
And with it, the dream.
---
This time, it wasn't the beach.
Yunar blinked and found himself sitting in a wooden chair. The surroundings took shape gradually — tables with white cloths, low-hanging lights casting a golden glow, the soft murmur of conversation and cutlery against plates.
A restaurant.
It wasn't luxurious, but it was warm. The kind of place families went to celebrate something special. Yunar looked down. He was wearing a grey dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
Across from him, she was sitting.
The woman with white hair.
Today she wore a light blue dress, simple but elegant. Her eyes — Yunar had never quite noticed before — were a soft grey, almost silver. Like his.
She wasn't smiling.
"Love." Her voice was controlled, but there was tension underneath it. "You've been acting very strangely."
Yunar opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"Why did you leave us on the beach?" She continued, fingers interlaced on the table. "You didn't say anything. You just... disappeared."
Beside her, in a high chair, the little girl was swinging her legs. She wore a small yellow dress with embroidered flowers. Her eyes were silver too.
"I really wanted to play in the sea with you, Daddy." Her voice was quieter now, almost sad.
Yunar felt something tighten in his chest. He wanted to answer. He wanted to explain. But how? How could he explain that he didn't know why he disappeared? That he had no control over any of it?
That maybe he didn't even belong there?
"I..." He forced the words out. "I'm sorry."
The woman blinked. For a moment, her expression softened. Almost relieved. As though simply hearing his voice was enough.
But then she shook her head slightly. "Sorry doesn't change what happened. She waited all day."
Yunar looked at the little girl, who was now staring at the empty plate in front of her, small fingers playing with her fork.
"I didn't mean to—"
"Didn't mean to what?" Her voice grew firmer. Not anger. Exhaustion. "Didn't mean to hurt us? Didn't mean to disappear without explanation?" She took a slow breath, steadying herself. "It was her birthday, Yunar."
The words hit him like a physical blow.
Her birthday.
He looked at Mia again. Six years old. She had just turned six.
And he had disappeared.
"I—" His voice failed.
The woman stood, picking up her bag. "Don't worry. I paid the bill at the restaurant."
She held his face in both hands. Her fingers were warm, real. Yunar could feel every point of contact, the soft texture of her skin, the faint tremor in her fingertips.
"I... I can't take this anymore." Her voice cracked. "You need to stop."
Tears began to fall from her eyes. Small, silent ones.
She rested her forehead against his chest, her shoulders trembling slightly with stifled sobs.
Yunar didn't know what to do. His hand moved on instinct, running through her white hair in a gesture that felt both entirely new and terribly familiar.
As though he had done it a thousand times before.
She pulled away after a moment, wiping her eyes. "I'm... going to bed."
And then she leaned in and kissed him.
It was brief. Soft. But it carried so much emotional weight that Yunar felt the entire world collapse around him.
When she pulled away, Yunar was frozen. His lips still tingled from the contact.
A single tear rolled down his cheek.
*"See reality."*
The voice came like thunder.
Louder. Angrier.
The restaurant shook. The lights flickered. The woman and Mia began to fade, their bodies dissolving into particles of light.
"No—" Yunar reached out, but it was too late.
Everything disappeared.
---
He woke up with a scream lodged in his throat.
He sat up in bed, breathing out of control, heart hammering like a war drum. Cold sweat covered his forehead. And the tears — God, the tears wouldn't stop.
They streamed like rivers, warm and endless, soaking the pillow, dripping onto the sheets.
Yunar raised his hand to his lips.
He could still feel the kiss.
Real. It had been so real.
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 3:47 a.m.
The house was completely silent.
Yunar got up on unsteady legs and walked to the window. He opened the curtains. Outside, the street was empty, lit only by the amber glow of lampposts. A few neighbours' windows still had lights on, but most were dark.
He pressed his forehead against the cold glass.
*"You cannot escape love."*
*"You are living an illusion."*
Which one was real? That? Or this?
Yunar looked down at his own hands, trembling faintly in the moonlight. He could still feel the texture of her hair. The warmth of the kiss. The weight of guilt in Mia's eyes.
How could something be so vivid and yet not exist?
He went back to bed, but didn't lie down. He just sat there, staring into the dark.
He knew he wouldn't sleep again.
---
*END OF CHAPTER 2*