Keep it Safe

“It is important that you keep it safe. Everybody has to wear it!” The woman’s face faded into the background. It could have been my mother, but at the same time, I am not sure if the memory itself was mine at all. My eyes refocus on the concrete in front of me while the world around gains access to my ears. The contours of the oddly familiar expression vanished in the whirl of thoughts that again begin to move within me. Unsure what to do next I stay still listening to the uncomfortable noise and avoiding the direction where the man is laying. It does not get easier with time, and I gradually realised that certain scenes are not meant to be spectated by humans. Finally, I find the courage to leave the cover of the small building and head out of the area. It was one of the more unconventional parts of my training. The location does not add up with the stone I am holding. But it is all part of a plan. I believe I am ready.

It has been a while since I had spoken to anybody. A loner not by a choice, but devoted to the silence of an empty apartment, often remembering how things used to be. My mother is long gone. I still hear her voice sometimes, but the words of hatred have no face. She left me years ago and after all that I still blame her as much as I blame my brother who had chosen her over me. Fast forward several attempts and months filled with awful sentences I wanted to scream into their faces, I gave up. They made it clear that our joint path in this life came to its end. Many strangers crossed my way since then but clueless about what to ask from them, none left a lasting impression. I know they were scared. I have been frightened ever since my mind was capable of the emotion. However, I still decided to pursue the dream that looks at me from above. Every evening I connect with the vision that has gotten me where I am, be it good or bad.

The sun marked the conclusion of its journey alongside my walk back home. The elevator screams in a never-ending agony of a working man and stumbles several times before it releases me to the dark hall that contains many doors one of which is mine. With my palm still firmly clenched I quickly enter and lock the doors immediately. The flat is quiet as well as is its surroundings. Silence stressed by the noise of the city I still see in the distance. The room is illuminated by a billboard that just came to life. A source of cold light I find comfort in, and a pair of understanding eyes that stare nowhere. She is the only one supporting my journey and accepting me the way I am while excited to greet the person I will become. Once we meet.

With only my trousers on I stand in front of a tall mirror which became a version of a friend that rarely talks. Fully immersed in my own stare I touch the finely moulded piece of metal in the middle of my chest. A mild red shine from its centre fills the flat surface. “It is important that you keep it safe. Everybody has to wear it!” A pointless sentence that determined my whole life before it started. Firmly holding the small object, I pull. Pain explodes in my body, paralysing my limbs and throwing me on the floor. Prior to having a chance to figure out what the world has to offer, I was told what my role was. From the beginning to the end. Stuck in a grey apartment like this forever without any purpose. Because we are in the waiting stage, there is nothing to strive for. We are the filling of a dying civilization. However, I always feared the dull empty life and refused to give in for such an empty future. The excruciating pain is gone as soon as the new nail enters the small crevice between my ribs. Since I remember I have been trying to avoid the inevitable and change the track of things around. It worked. For me and against. It got me where I am now. On the bathroom floor, breathless and sore. Infected by foreign thoughts. Alone but another step closer.

The tiles underneath are cold to touch and my back starts to feel uncomfortable. I have lost track of time, but the liquid on my chest has dried enough to crack and peel with my movements. Now I feel I have enough strength to pull myself up and carefully walk to my room. The bed is dirty and I lack to care. With an exhausted sigh, my body gets surrendered by cushions and duvets collected through the years and from the apartments around. I feel light-headed and my stomach seems to disagree with my decisions. Still, despite the loud noises coming from within my body I try to fall asleep. All the pictures that are newly finding destinations in my brain. A timeline that doesn’t match with mine, so it coils around the shorter line, choking what sticks out. Voices I have never encountered and faces that mix with the other into a shapeless existence talking endlessly.

Green light is projecting vaguely at the ceiling above me. Fascinated by the colour I finally get to enjoy, I continue to prepare and admire. Carefully testing every part of my body while waking up and leaving the bed the same way I found it earlier and days before then. I do not talk to my two-dimensional friend in the bathroom for long. My apartment is vacant shortly after I say goodbye and the complaining metal box cries about the empty flats while closing its door. It occasionally seems to blame me for all the wasted space and the lives that ended prematurely. Perhaps it is not wrong but I refuse the accusation regardless. People come and go. Certain places become dead merely so others can live. The same goes for people. And it is our own responsibility to avoid the unfavourable side of the cycle.

The elevator stops several floors beneath mine, and an elderly man joins me in the cabin. With no shame, my eyes proudly compare our reflections in the dirty mirror. My long hair is touching my shoulders and cover stains on the blouse that used to be bright and one of the best pieces of my wardrobe had to offer. The focus, however, is on the faded yellow dot in the middle of my neighbour’s chest. Everything about me is brighter and fresher, as I realise with a petty pleasure. He notices the difference too and seems surprised. As if he had seen me before and now was trying to figure out if questioning his memory is the correct choice. Fortunately for me, before he manages to decide we reach the ground floor and I run into the late afternoon leaving him behind.

Walking, driving and swimming in the numbing sounds of a collapsing society I head to the centre of it all. It is no secret that the current system is not sustainable. Easy to deny but difficult to ignore. The poison that we create by being as selfish as we always wanted to be is killing what we strive for. Still, we maintain our ways and obsolete values until there is nothing left for anyone. Despite seeing all that I happily contribute to the decomposition and would sacrifice much to be a part of the old glamorous days. That is why I am where I am right now, admiring the buildings and beautiful people that share the denial I want the taste of. I envy the colours they carry on their chests. And her.

She is much older than the billboard would suggest, yet it is undeniably the same person. Her eyes and adorable round face. The lips that tried what I don’t dare to imagine. And the bright white shine enlightening the sidewalk in front of her. I am too stunned to approach her directly but manage to stay in visual contact, following her through the streets. How is not everybody trying to move out of her way? Why am I the only one noticing how unattainable everything about her is? Between the tall and shiny buildings with glass surfaces that had been broken ages ago in the suburbs, I hypnotise her reflection and keep up with the fast-paced walk. Around the stationary cars and to the park where is too late to change anything about my intentions.

Before I realise it myself I am overwhelmed with courage and run to catch up, stopping her before she leaves the deserted path. I lost interest in her eyes. All I can focus on is the heart-shaped locket that peeked from a gap in her outfit. The tension is increasing with her examining me, slowly realising what I am about to do. But before she can move, I wrestle her on the ground. After a short struggle, I pin her on her back and with a swift movement, buttons from her shirt take off revealing the treasure. As somebody who has done it before and an experienced thief, I unlock the tiny contraption and pull out the stone from the locket in a single smooth movement. The light dies out with the nail leaving the flash as well as her screams for help fade.

From there, everything turned into a blur fueled by adrenaline. Hiding my loot and bloody hands from strangers, constantly looking for somebody following me. Now I am in the apartment. Alone. Staring at the billboard that gave me all the promises. Everything that I am about to discover. The same procedure. A few breaths and a pull. A wave of explosive pain and empty space. On the same tiles as every time, in a pattern painted by my old experiments, I wait for a moment with the nail pointing at me. An unknown feeling slowly spreads through my body. It is strange achieving the goal I have dedicated my life to. The green stone that meant everything this morning now drops on the floor next to the red one and not far from the yellow pebble that belonged to my little sister. A moan that surprises me by its intensity leaves my mouth when the metal tip touches my skin. Some aspects of me explode into an illegible mess, some seem to get reorganised. But one thing stands out. It is a picture I have never seen before, a picture of a bathroom similar to this one. There are four people in it. My brother holds hands with my little sister – faces I tried to forget unsuccessfully. Then there is me standing a bit aside from the person who has to be my mother. The same person who has been staring at me from the billboard and the same person I just took the stone from.