Chapter 4

Hours passed in the pleasant company of Anna, who seemed to keep Amy’s mind off everything. “She is so nice, so kind to everyone…”, Amy thought. At the end of the school day, they handed in their essays, and hastily left the building, ignoring the shallow giggles of the popular group of puppets. Arriving at the crossroad that separated the roads to their homes, Anna stopped so suddenly, as if she had hit an invisible wall. With blood rushing to her cheeks, she said:

“Hey, do you even remember when we last went for a stroll? Just you and me.”

Looking confused, Amy replied “Uhm… not quite, to be honest. It’s been a lot of time I guess. Why?”

“Well, I think we should make an exception today from our routine.”, said Anna, while trying to remove her ginger strips of hair from her eyes. “Let’s visit some shops today, let’s have a coffee, or let’s just walk… I miss doing this with you! You seem so far away lately. I mean, you, physically, are here, but I can feel that your mind is way off. Come on, let’s spend some time together and maybe you’ll tell me what’s been bothering you lately.”

After some seconds of awkward silence, Amy nodded her head and agreed to break her routine. Who knows? Maybe she would take her mind off her dreams… and the foggy silhouette she had earlier seen before going to her classes. It seemed like she didn’t have many things to do home anyway.

They walked slowly, visiting all the narrow old streets they could find. While Anna was desperately trying to keep the spirits high, talking continuously about anything, Amy was actually trying to focus on the surroundings. Their color was long faded and those brick walls and stone pavement were hiding a magnificent untold history. How many people had walked that path before… How many had fallen in love there! How many must have died there… If only one could somehow extract the past stories from those walls! If only those bricks and stones could speak, books and movies would be inspired by them! As the lovely ginger was mumbling about the newest movies in the cinema and how they should go there sometime soon, Amy noticed something unusual about those streets. She had seen it so many times before and she knew them better than anything else in that city. Yet this time something was different about them. She silently whispered to Anna, with a noticeable confusion in her voice:

“Anna, would you think that I am crazy if I told you I know these streets?”

“Uhm.. Doh! Of course you know them! We’ve been here hundreds of times!”

“No, but this time it’s different. I… somehow see them and I’m getting weird feeling about them. Just like they are suddenly a part of a very important memory for me… a memory I don’t have… and which hurts. For a moment I saw this street from someone else’s point of view. It seemed to be long ago, when the brick walls were still red. And they even had ivy of them. This pavement, as grey and broken as it is now, it was yellowish, shiny and with no pieces missing. This place inspired hope and happiness. But… never mind me! It must be the effect of the dreams I’ve been having recently. Maybe I dreamed this, and that is why they look like a part of a memory for me. Oh, look there! There’s a nice café! Let’s go there for a bit!”. Still, in her soul, she was certain that the feeling of knowing that place for so long and having powerful memories about it, was not a consequence of her dreams. Yet, seeing Anna’s misunderstanding look, she decided to leave it like this, like a product of her imagination.

So, arriving at the café, Amy ordered another coffee, with a bit of milk and sugar free, while Anna spent quite a lot of time deciding between a Coke and a tea. Choosing the Coke, she looked at Amy and, raising her eyebrow, she said:

“You’re not telling me something. It is clear that you’re trying to look as if you were listening to me, but you’re not. Your lips are smiling, but your eyes are not. For God’s sake, they’re almost crying. Amy, you’re very dear to me! I want to be there for you when you need to talk about anything. So what is it?”

Amy stopped playing with the teaspoon, lighted a cigarette and exhaling the smoke she said:

“I’ll be fine. I’m sorry but I need to know myself what is going on with me. I can’t tell it, if I don’t understand it myself. It’s just that... things have become a little bit… let’s say different. But can we please skip this? I feel quite uncomfortable talking about this. Right now I’m actually rather concerned with our final project. What are you going to write about?”

“Don’t really know… Think I’m going to invent a silly story actually. I don’t remember my dreams”, she replied with a charming honesty.

Then they continued talking for a while about what tasks they had to accomplish till the end of the school year, their plans for the future, bringing back memories from their childhoods. But as Amy was listening to Anna’s story about how she got punished in the 3^rd grade for painting the flowers blue, she heard a low voice whispering by her ear: “the antique stop”. She startled as if she had been burnt with a hot stick, and seeing that there was nobody by her side, whispering such things, she also realized that she was the only one who heard that. There was no point in questioning Anna about the issue. But… that voice sounded so familiar. It was the exact feeling as the one she had regarding the street. It seemed to be again a part of a memory that did not have…

“Anna, could we please pay for our drinks and go?”, said Amy, looking a bit anxious and somehow in a disturbed voice.

“But… why? We haven’t been here too long”

“Uhm, honestly, I want to go to the antique store. I have just remembered that I forgot to buy a present to someone.”, replied Amy, standing up and getting ready to go.

Still a bit confused by the situation, Anna agreed to leave the café and go to the antique store, not being sure yet if to trust Amy’s reason to visit that. After 10 minutes of more like running, than walking, they arrived to their destination, the old, sinister antique shop.

Amy took a deep breath, while her heart started bumping for no reason. That feeling you get when you hear the music change in a movie and you know that something is about to happen…

Chapter 3

There she found herself in a crowded classroom. Spotting an empty seat in the back of the class, she stumbled her way there and finally managed to occupy the perfect seat: in the back of the class with a beautiful view of the outside landscape. The landscape could have been more colorful, but, even as dull as it was… it still kept its charm. It seemed like all her colleagues were a bit too enthusiastic for such a morning.

On her left there was the group of probably future boring teachers. They were always dressed formally, considering themselves so great. Yet, they were nothing more than little girls trying to seem much older than they actually were. This was a pity. They didn’t realize that people have too little time to enjoy youth and the life without many obligations. But Amy knew she would only try in vain to explain that to those early aged girls. 

In the first rows there was the group of fancy mannequins. If anyone wanted to be part of the group, they should necessarily be updated with the latest gossips, trends, not to add the fact that excessive skinniness was a must. Their image was actually sad. They seemed to Amy like some empty shells, that were painted beautifully. Their world was so shallow, that they could not see behind their mirror… or deeper in their mirror. Their judgment was dictated by the headlines in the newspapers, while their choices were not their own. So easily manipulated… so easy fooled by the false glitter of a fabulous world.

Being in that room felt more like being at the theatre. It was all a grotesque show with plastic dolls performing. And those masks were so cheap. Here and there the mascara and lipstick cracked, revealing a dark grey plastic basis, under which was nothing more than emptiness. It was actually funny how you could arrange the dolls, only by their aspect. Yet, they all had one thing in common: the empty inside.

Five minutes later, a childish girl, with a huge jacket and a lilac woolen scarf, joyfully entered the class. It was Anna, her friend. Her frozen rosy lips cracked in a large smile, when seeing Amy:

“Morning, sunshine! How you feelin’ today?”, she asked while unwrapping her scarf from around her neck.

“Mmm, well… Could’ve been better. This is actually making it pretty acceptable, to be honest”, replied Amy, while pointing at her coffee and then taking such a sip of it, as if it were the best taste in the world. “And you? Haven’t seen you so energetic in weeks…”.

“Let’s just say that I had a great time this weekend!”, she said with her brown eyes glowing with joy. “Oh, it seems that the teacher’s here… Couldn’t she possibly have waited just for a little longer?”. Then lowering her voice, she continued “I can’t believe that after such a weekend, I have to come to this class! Why is attendance so mandatory.. I mean.. (“indeed, a great weekend. So many things happened. In my mind only.”), how is this course going to even help us in the future (“if we have any…”). I think we are wasting time here, listening to all this nonsense… (“this is only a part of the price we have to pay for dreaming…”, Amy thought).

It was a free creation class. Indeed, as in any university, anything is served with tons of theory, and neglects your opinions and creativeness, yet this class was about to be the spark for Amy’s fire. Almost two hours passed without actually finding any useful sense in the lecture and yet, Mrs. Matthews, the teacher, decided that a project for the end of the semester would be much more appropriate than an actual exam. The project would be free writing a story, based on dreams.

Then, Amy finally felt like she didn’t dream that much for nothing. It could actually mean, that for once, her fantasy could materialize into something more touchable.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

How she got to school, she does not yet know… All the way traveled by bus went like speeding meaningless images. The only thing that mattered to her was the heavenly music that kept ringing loudly in her headphones. It sounded so perfect, like all the good energies were concentrated and mixed in those lyrics and notes. Listening to those songs made her feel like she had a part of him in her pocket the whole day. It felt so close…

Everything was so typical on the road from the bus station to school. People were mere marionettes of destiny, underpaid actors in a low quality movie. The decorum was heavily lacking originality… there was half molten snow everywhere that splashed disgustingly with every step one took, poorly drawn gray buildings and a cloned-like society. They were all similar, their foreheads wrinkling at any slight disturbance, all dressed in grey, all bearing a daily sorrow in their eyes. No one was rushing, no one was slowing down either. Their steps kept the same turbulent pace and with every splash the grey snow was slowly turning into dirty muddy water. It’s interesting how the only difference between aged and young people was only the tightness of their clothes and the price of their phones and accessories. The shinier the gadgets and purses were, the duller their spirit felt. Almost like a tired old man’s soul… Everything was so bleak, like in a world of inanimate robots functioning by some premade algorithms. So mechanical, that all sounded like a rusty iron cradle.

Amy was desperately searching for a fracture of life in that grey abyss, but she could only find that comfort in her music. After all, it was the only thing at that moment that could make her heart pump with a bit more energy. It triggered her memory and her dreams. Time froze for her just before entering the noisy cold building. It was the part of the song that meant so much for her… He once told her that what he felt was best expressed in those lyrics. With only her chest moving periodically, just for the sake of breathing, she just stood there with her brain almost exploding. It was overloaded with whispering memories. Where they even real? Didn’t really matter anyway… they seemed real enough to fill her body with drops of life.

The piercing wind was pulling her hair, rushing blood into her pale cheeks, drying her lips. Her hair looked like long tangled stripes of dark satin, so wild in that windy rage. That didn’t really mean anything to Amy. She was frozen in the warm spot of her imagination. It was like a spark of joy. Her big blue eyes smiled as if she saw him for real there. As if he would approach her and overcome the limits of her mind. His image was starting to develop steam edges, pale hints of his appearance.

Yet the wind blew his vapors away, together with her smiling eyes. It was time to come back to reality once again. Amy followed the example of all the other students, and obediently went to her class, still with her thoughts hanging to those vapors in the wind. And she was alone…

Golden Forest

So, obviously, during the exam session, when i should be studying, creativity strikes in... and i did this yesterday. I hope you like it.

still working at it...

Chapter 1

When have four years already passed? This is what Amy asks herself every day. So, the daily schedule would be: wake up early in the morning, attend courses, go home, work, sleep. 

It was a cold winter morning, the wind was fierce and she had to wake up early to deliver some an essay at college. Her dreams were fuzzy, something about being in a magical golden forest. The alarm went on, with the same hideous song, which almost tormented her every morning. At first, it seemed to her that the song was a part of the dream… yet the images were distorted by that awful screeching sound. All the golden beauty got dissolved in a terrible headache  caused by the early wake-up.  But she wanted to hard to sleep and return to her magical place…. But the alarm said no.

She heavily opened her  eyes, and saw that her room was still dark. She forced herself off the bed, dragging herself to the kitchen to start the coffee machine. Oh, that smell! The heavenly scent of steaming coffee is probably the best part of an early morning. The fractures of the dream were slowly passing into the land of oblivion. For the first time during that winter, the sky  bleached, foretelling the snow. Amy looked through the window. Ignoring her sleepy reflection she saw a perfect view. All was white with black stains, like a movie black and white. The only pixels of color belonged to the fragile red lights of the cars. A crow was crossing the sky. It was like an arrow hurting the perfection of the flawless sky. One minute later the sky was invaded with chaotic groups of crows. Their screams were disturbing the morning serenity, so the clouds started crying violently with angry huge snowflakes.  The blizzard was doing a dance of death, beautiful, tragic and dangerous at the same time. It wiped everything in its way, leaving behind virgin white surfaces… It almost washed away the shame of the night…

Her soul trembled in the rhythm of that terrible dance. How special it feels to understand when nature speaks the same language as you do, and no one else would understand it… Amy wished she could produce a blizzard of her own, one that could wash away her torment; one that could leave her pure and untouched on the inside. But those crows were so loud… their awful mourning distorted any trace of serenity. It sounded like they were hit by a sudden unexplainable madness, as if some wicked sound disturbed them deeply too. To Amy’s surprise, they were also packed in groups of thousands, which moved like a single individual. Funny how such small creatures act like the cells of an entire body, flying simultaneously, managing to express something big.

Watching them flying in a chaotic beautiful dance, Amy started thinking about her future. Oh! The uncertainty was killing her slowly! It almost felt surreal… how other living things could express so well what she felt: a terrible cry of despair and restlessness. Suddenly, one of the crows hit the window and fell dead. She was still trying to wake up from her thoughts and figure out what had just happened. The bird was as stiff as a piece of wood, as well as Amy. It died so quickly like most of her dreams. It is sad how fragile life is, and how easily we can be crushed by trivial things.

*Beep Beep Beep*! It was the familiar sound of the alarm clock again. Amy swore, turned it off and went back at the window, staring at the dead crow. It was a sort of fascination to her: its perfection, its frailty, its peacefulness. A tear was quickly shed from her left eye directly on the beak of the creature. It froze instantly, looking more like a diamond now. It decorated so well the inert black beak. Staring bleak at that still image, she startled when the alarm went off again. Apparently it was for real this time. She was actually a little bit late for school. Getting a quick dizziness from standing up so suddenly, she rushed to her closet, picking up the first clothes that came to hand, grabbed her backpack and rushed out. It was like in a frozen hell. It was snowing, but that snow did not shelter any tranquility; it was violently freezing and hurting anything it touched. Awkwardly enough, there were groups of crows flying randomly above the cold buildings. Their screams reminded her of the dreams she had just had and her heart started bumping like mad, when remembering the whole dream.  Yet, she tried to ignore the event, moving on through the terrible day that was to come.

And still… somewhere through the clouds, there was a ray of light, so frail and scared, that one could easily miss it.