Why Are My Dreams Realistic?

Chapter 5 : Falsum Domum : (part 4)

As I walked back to my room, I couldn’t help but get worried about something. I felt like I had forgotten something important. A thing in the corner that would make a fuss when I left for a long time. The chime of the clock echoes inside my head as I try to remember what I had forgotten.

“Ah!”  I slammed my head as hard as I could on the wall as I remembered what it was. I ran as fast as I could to return to my room. I’d forgotten that the voice in the corner was a feisty one. If I’ve never returned for a long time, it will start to harbor I’ll intentions.

Oh. How I remembered the first time I’d secluded myself inside the kitchen. That was such the best time of my life. I’ve stuffed all the food I can eat in the kitchen that I forgot to return. I remember exercising for about half a month after suddenly gaining weight for what I’ve done. It constantly mocked that I’m a pig with a big belly. Of course, it was such an excruciating day that I’ve experienced.

But right now, I don’t know what that voice would say. Will it mock me again? Will it get angry? I-I don’t know what reaction it would make if I ever returned now. I’m so scared to even continue that I’ve started trembling. 

******

Room *****

With one step, my feet trembled with fear as I returned to my room. The darkness residing in this house With two steps, forgetting something is a mistake one should never make. It could cost your life or your dignity. With the third step, I suck it up as I stand before my door. My hands were shaking as I slowly reached the door knob. Sweat started to form all over my body.  My hands were trembling as I reached the door knob.

“W-what should I do… I can’t.”  I continued to tremble with fear as I firmly grasped the doorknob. I slowly tried to rotate it, but my anxiety hindered me. 

“Ahhhh!”  I held my breath as I opened the door. “Oh?” As I opened it, no one greeted me. The voice in the corner of my room would always say something, even if I didn’t return for a long time. It would always say upsetting words, but it was complete silence. right now

“Haaa…” I took a deep sigh of relief as the voice hadn’t spoken.

A beeping sound reverberates in the room. It resonates every second from wall to wall. The way the sound travels is weirdly uncanny.

I stood still for a second before I walked beside my bed. The door in my room can close on its own. It has a different design than the rest of the standard-looking doors. Instead of having a doorknob, it retracts on its own after a long time when it is open. It also slides sideways. The handle was cold and had a one-way-looking glass in the center.

There’s also this continuous beeping sound on a machine beside the adjustable bed I’m sleeping in.  I remember a respirator tube inside my throat when I woke up in this place. It took me quite a while to adjust to the feeling because it was in the back of my throat. My room was the only one with an unnatural color of tinted green. It’s the only color that appeals to me; it is also the only one that mesmerizes me.

In this very room, I could feel everything. The calming soulless void that eats away the loneliness of being alone. To the music that plays on its own. It was the only source of hope for me than to saunter around the hallways without a definite answer for happiness.

The clock inside my room reverberates simultaneously with the beeping sound. My mind was drifting off as I lay in my comfy bed. 

“One. Two. Three. Four…-” I counted up to thirty, then repeated it. I counted, then repeat. Then I wonder, “What am I doing with my life?”

“Aaghh…” I grunted, unable to ask the voice in the corner of my room if it was still there. This will take a long time before my anxiety subsides.

I started to whistle as my panic attack arrived. I always used to whistle. It could be when I’m strolling this house, whenever I’m bored, or when I did something wrong. Whistling, for me, is like a way to subside my anxiety. I always whistle whenever I’m already feeling it. I don’t know when I even began to learn to whistle. I suddenly have this urge in my tongue to twist it around and blow out some air. 

“Haa…”

That book. It has such an excellent sense of freedom, yet it is full of sadness. Death was always inevitable in that book, yet the main character has the freedom to act against fate in some other ways. He has friends. He can play an instrument. He has a loving uncle and a sister he can call a friend. 

However, a missed sense of fleeting memory constantly appears inside my head whenever I fall asleep. A memory of someone who longed for eternal happiness yet could not do so. The fear of death for others is the one he was afraid of. That fear that always told him that death was already a part of human life.

“~sigh…”

But what can I do about it? Was it even my memory? It wasn’t even mine to begin with. It might have been just a passing alteration of cruelty. Or maybe I just don’t care if it was mine. I’m just happy to be alive.

“yawn~...”

This long train of thought might have passed a minute or half an hour. My throat was sore from the whistling. My anxiety had already subsided, and I think I can now talk to that voice. It took a long time for me to apologize.

I rest my body on the bed. Tired and full of hope. I took another deep breath before I decided to talk.

“Uhmm… Are you still there?” I softly asked the voice.

*There’s no response.*

“Hello? Can you talk to me now?”

*There’s no response.*

“I’m really sorry that I did it again. I’m sorry that had become a bad habit of me.”

*There’s no response.*

“Aah… oh…” I stopped.

Two or three words were enough to talk before I started saying unnecessary things that would infuriate the voice. Although this act might have already caught up to that voice. I cleared my throat before I started to talk again.

“Agh. Oh… I’ve found another room filled with knives and a rope. I might have to tie it into my neck and stab myself right after I suffer.” I yelled with an obnoxious tone. I continued to yell many things that would incinerate the anger of the voice until it started to talk angrily.

- You really have a way of making me angry, huh?

“Sorry,” I said. The corner of my room had become too dark as the voice appeared.

- If you have the time to say unnecessary things like killing yourself. I advise you not to continue anymore; you’ll face my wrath.

“You’ve already said this like many times right now.”

- Then you know that there will be times that I will do that.

“I already know. That’s why I’m saying sorry again.”

- As long as you know that I have the power to cut off all ties with you.

“You’ve already told me many times, yet you haven’t left me. I’m waiting for it, but don’t hope for it.”

- Heh.

This voice is really a simpleton. I didn’t expect much from this, but it's the only lifeline and my only friend that I have also, because it was funny. 

We continued to talk with each other until it reached the point where the voice asked me where I’d been. This means that the second phase of our conversation had started. Our discussion with each other ranges from one to three. One, we joke around; two, it asks me what I did.

- Can you tell me what you’ve found since I’m nice?

The voice said. I’ve decided to tell you I’ve found a new room with a smile. It listened as I talked by making a noise or asking some questions, but now, it just made a noise.

“Well. That’s all I found in that room—a library with a book of over a thousand volumes. I secluded myself inside that room and was dedicated to reading it all. The sparks of ambition that rise within me as I encounter such rooms is a must of exploration.” I said.

- That book that you’ve said. It feels nostalgic to hear it again for some reason.

“What do you mean, nostalgic?” I asked.

- It feels just like that. A sense of overwhelming desire to know that the scenario had already happened or heard. A powerful burst of emotions deep beneath our hidden feelings.

“You’re turning into a philosopher.”

- It’s just a hobby.

The voice laughed after finishing its sentence, and with each laughter, a new question always arose within me during the third part of our conversation. It was a question it consistently avoided answering — a question of great importance to me.

“Hey, can I ask you?”

- What is it?

“Who am I? What am I doing here?”

The voice had turned silent as I said that. This kind of scenario has already happened multiple times. I asked the voice the first time I woke up in this house. Then another. Then another more. It became a tradition to ask another question relating to me and then deny it.

- You’ve asked me again. I’ve turned down this question many times, but you continued to ask and strive for an answer. This time, then. This time, I’ll tell you something.

The voice told me something that it always hid from me. It told me there was a purpose for why I was inside, trapped in this very house. The voice told me we were bound by a special bond that had traversed countless timelines. A piece of information from another version told him this was his job. The job to become my guardian guides me as I look for my very self. My emotions.

He was stripped of his powers and stuck beside me, within the very corner of the room. There were lapses in his memory, but they continued to transfer as time passed. It also said that I was incomplete. That my soul was not complete but rather broken, shattered into many variations. 

My soul was in different places, spaces, themes, scenarios, and worlds. We all have the same face, yet other circumstances. The voice said we were all broken beyond repair but quickly apologized. As the voice had said that, it gave me a reason—a reason to become happy.

- Now that I told you some information that had appeared before me. Although I don’t trust this information, we’ll do this since I am your guide.

He said. I thought it over for a minute before I responded.

“Okay. What is it that you really wanted to say to me.” 

- It’s your first job, according to my memory. You’ll have to move out of this place, or rather leave this place already and look for your friends.

“Friends?”

- That’s what I understand from the memory that was given.

“I… I have a friend?”

- Are you happy?

“Overly,” I said with a big smile on my face. “Then how will I be able to do that?” I asked.

- With this.

Suddenly, a rift appeared in the hollowed space in the corner of my room. It emitted a soft humming sound flashing with a monochromatic color inside.  

- Your first adventure. An adventure that you'll love as long as you want it.

“T-then, what should I do when I enter?” I started to tremble as this would be my first adventure after a long isolation. What lies beyond this rift is unknown and unprecedented to me.

- First, I’ll need to enter inside you.

Then I stop. I processed what it just said to me. Inside? Enter me inside? That's quite bold.“That was quite erotic of you to say that.” with a smug on my face.

- W-what are you thinking! That’s not the time for that.

It was flustered just from the tone of its voice as it tried to act on defense. “But it was erotic when you said you wanted to be inside me. What inside was it then?” I continued to act in a playful tone. Although I don’t understand what this means, I think I can convey it properly as he became flustered.

- A-alright. I need to be inside of your soul so I can guide you and so that you can also enter since it only accepts a complete soul. Without a whole soul, you’d be rejected. That’s where I’ll come from.

“Really? I didn’t know that.” I stopped the act and started to get serious again.

- Yeah. I’m sorry you’d feel discomfort when I talked inside your head.

“No, no. It’s okay. If it's for adventure, then I’ll gladly do so.” I said with a smile on my face.

Without saying anything, the voice entered me within my soul. It used the tiny particles that floated around the house and quickly entered the inside of my soul. I felt a sudden cold inside of me as it happened. Then it became hot.

“Gah!” I took a deep breath after the voice had entered me.

- So, are you ready?

“I am ready,” I said.

- You can enter through the portal whenever you want to. I’ll always be with you.

As the voice said that. I stared for a moment inside the portal. I pondered that within this magical embarkment beyond comprehension, I wondered if I could affiliate my lack of understanding to a world beyond me.

As I took a step forward. I asked him his name as my body slowly disintegrated, shattering my body, piece by piece with the unexplainable thunder inside the portal.

- You’re asking for my name? I guess it was Atelier? Based on the information that was given to me.

“Atelier. What a good name for someone who will accompany me on my journey.” I said with a smile as I slowly faded from the room I once lived in.

- Good luck on your journey, Mori.

Atelier. A name of the voice that made my isolation quite fun. A thing that filled the gap in me as he encouraged me to evolve in this journey as a person who lacks an understanding of emotions. What a nice partner to have.

</>--000 Entering A New Stage..---0001 </>