Empty bed. Empty rooms. Empty apartment.
She’s gone.
I was sitting at the kitchen, thinking about everything I’ve seen.
This can’t be real. One can’t simply disappear without any trace. It’s just… I woke up, right? I bloody woke up alone in my bed! With a strong headache I’ve never experienced before, but anyway. There wasn’t anybody around.
This can’t be real. This can’t be real. Just can’t be.
This can’t be a dream. Sudden thought pulsed on the back of my head, almost as painful as the ache. The girl, her ideas and her eyes, that inimitable stare you can hardly forget even years after… And the lipstick on my mirror.
Oh gosh, I let her inside, I thought. I let the girl I’ve just met somewhere inside, despite the fact that she was acting crazy as hell.
I laughed, laughed hard, trying to get rid of the stress. But then I understood it won’t help at all.
“I guess, I owe you an apology.”
That voice! The old man’s voice!
I ran into the room… and I saw her.
She was sitting in the same armchair she used back then, faintly smiling and looking at me.
“How…”
“I guess, I owe you one too. And some explanations, probably. How about a walk?”
“You…”
“Just one walk, alright? I’ll explain, I promise.”
“Okey then.”
We went outside. Sunshine was dancing in her hair as she was looking around. It felt awkward.
“So how about now?”
“What?”
“Well, I guess, it’s quite a right time to tell me something, don’t you think?”
“Alright then. But please, listen – just listen, don’t say anything. It’s hard”, her voice trembled. “It’s hard to tell.”
“I’m all listening.”
“It started years ago, when I was a kid. I used to have a very colourful dreams. One day, I found them pretty close to the real world – and enjoyed the discovery I’ve made. It was amazing. I built cities in my dreams. I felt myself like a real creator. Not just a word, not just a somebody with a power to write a shitty poem or draw an average picture – no, I felt myself almost a Creator. A god. My abilities here were limitless…
So it’s no wonder I started to slip away. I didn’t want to go back here, to the real world. It was so imperfect, so dirt – not to mention people. We were rich, and I saw what the consequences are. People around me and my family were so miserable, so greedy. It scared me. They seemed almost soulless, ready to anything to climb one step further. Running away from the filth that gave them birth and filled their inner emptiness.
So I lost the sight of the reality. I ran too. At first I was just tiring myself during the day. Then I tried some meds, and found them as a pretty nice solution. It was almost a nightmare, if you ask me. But it didn’t seem the same way back in the days. I thought that the uncertain possibility to have a little health issues is a good price for world of mine. Who wouldn’t? Everyone would. So did I.
One day, I met the Old Man. He told me I had to stop. He said, I had to stop right now. I laughed. Oh god, what a stupid girl I was… Anyway, I was unable to do any harm to him. In my own dream! Imagine my amazement when he told me about himself. It’s not everyday when you’re given a whole world to change, but when someone comes and says “Hey there, you’re not the only one alive in this dream”…Well, it raises the bar of awkwardness twice as high as it was.
So, he led me to our old house. I recreated it very carefully, but he reminded me of something I’ve forgotten. He helped me remember one part I’ve missed. That was the moment when everything changed.
Back in the days, in the real part of my childhood, there was a strange room we always kept close. My mother forbade me even to think about the room, not to say enter it. But one day I saw a light under its door, and asked her about the room again. She started crying, talking about some old tunes she’s found, about some promises she made and ones she was given. It was creepy. She was up all night, staring somewhere in the garden. I’ve never seen her so sad.
However, several days after she came to my room and said that I must never ever speak, or thought, about this room. She made me promise, and I kept the promise for years, until the one she died.
A week after her death, I was sitting in my room, thinking about further actions. Though I wasn’t allowed to rule the company or something, I had some things to deal with. I decided to make a cup of tea and went to the kitchen, when I heard a voices.
It took me a good three minutes to realize that I clearly hear her voice. Just a week after the burial! And the sound came from that old forbidden room.
I got there, torn between desire to see her again and promise I’ve made. Maybe I should’ve kept the promise that day.
But I opened the door. And I’ve seen her and the old man I’d seen before. It was a strange moment indeed. They went silent for a second as they saw me. Then she started crying, and he smiled. He said that it takes more than just a one prohibition to erase something that flows in my blood, or something like that. He invited me to play with him. He said that it would be a real fun for someone who created a whole world in a dream.
And after his words I recognized an old piano, standing in the darkest corner of the room. Then he waved his hand…and it’s changed! Right before my eyes it changed its shape. It was more of a harp now. I can’t really tell. It was like something in a dream – you just know the shape, you know everything about it exactly until you have to describe it. It was even stranger than hearing my mother again and meeting the old man from a dreams altogether.
But I tried it. It had an unique sound, but I had no idea what to do with all these keys and strings. I tried, and something in the room changed. I stopped playing. This thing scared the hell out of me. He asked me, why did I stop playing. I eplained. Then he smiled, and told me the story he partly told you.
The story says,once there was a star. It shined for a people who worshiped it. They were smart, but they remained kind. Unlike us.
One day, the star told the people that it felt lonely. They asked why, and the star told them that it felt envy. The star wanted to be a universe. It wanted to create another stars and rule the space. It wanted to be something much greater than it was.
However, sooner or later, the star decided to try. It left the people for a day, and they all died. All at once. They died grateful. They wished the star to find its path.
When the star returned a few days later, the damage was done. The planet was dead, yet the return of the sun gave it a hope to become the same old planet one day, only if the light would do the right things in the right places. But the star couldn’t have stand it. It cried, days after days. The star heard all the voices of the people it unintentionally killed, and the sound of it made everything worse. The star was gone, refusing to fix anything. Too afraid to be responsible again. And no one seen that star since then.
The old man told me that, and I burst into tears as he was speaking. Once he finished, I asked him why did the tell me the story at all.
He said that I was the star. A star that was trying to fool itself, unable to use its gift properly. So he made me two offers – the first was to open the door, and the second was to play that strange thing. He suggested me to describe the thing I was playing. I said that I can’t. That’s alright, he said, as the thing doesn’t exist.
I asked him to repeat that. He smiled and said it once again. The piano wasn’t fake, it just didn’t exist in this reality.
I laughed and asked “the good ol’ magician to show me the hat once again, as I can probably see the hare from right here”. Then he came to the piano and his hand went right through its surface. He asked me to play it once again, and I felt the solid wood and bone under my fingers. He was standing near, smiling. He said, he didn’t want me to believe him. It wasn’t about belief at all. He said, I have to answer for my dreams now. And the next thing I know I just woke up.”
“So here I am”, she smiled slightly, looking far away. “Keep looking for something to prove whether I’m sleeping or not. Look, we’re back at the Koloss!”
She reached the same column she’d liked yesterday. I came closer.
“But who was the Old Man?”
“It was the Great Prometheus himself.”
“What?”
“That’s the funny thing. Especially after all the placebo thing, right? Prometheus isn’t a myth. Well, he’s not a fairytale, at least. I can’t say if he exists, but he isn’t something one made up hundreds of years ago.”
“And how about giving people a fire? And all the eagle stuff?”
“He gave us a fire. It’s our dreams. You see, he told us how to light up our own mind. How to enlighten it and see not just something we can touch, but something we can imagine. It changed everything. He gave us the most important fire – the one that led us to all the other lights we know now. And the ones we’ve already forgiven, as well.
As for the eagle… I don’t know. Maybe it’s some kind of punishment from forces we don’t know, maybe it’s just his conscience that tortured him as we wasted the light we were given. It’s probably wrong to judge him as a human being, but I’d be disappointed if I was him. Just imagine – you give away the light that can shine, and we’re using it to decieve each other, harm each other, kill each other. To get rid of people around us. And worst of all, we’re trying to reach the state of the universe, not even knowing how to be a stars. We’re too selfish. We’re seeking for too much. ”
“And you know”, she suddenly looked at me,”you know what? Even if all this world is fake, even if it’s just a made-up illusion, a placebo we’re taking daily – we still produce enough light to make it a real world. Something worth itself. How do we know if we didn’t pass the point when fake becomes a truth, just because it’s everything that matters?“
She went silent, still staring at me. It felt like she was about to start crying again.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, it’s fine”, she replied, coming a bit closer. “Look, there’s something with the Koloss, right behind you…”
“What?”, I asked as I turned.
“I’m so sorry“, she whispered.
When I turned back, there was nobody around.
I still remember her eyes. Her hair. Every single moment I’ve seen her is precious for me.
But most of all, I remember her eyes. The only real thing that happened to me ever since.
The only thing real enough.
root 
[…] The last part. […]