Sol

by Apolonia Ambrosius

  The strange thing was also that for some reason, she could not stop walking or slip her hand out of his tight grip.

  After the agonizing minutes, striding trough the shivering blackness of nature, they finally arrived at the place that was apparently very personal to the young boy. They were standing on top of the hill on a patch empty of any trees or bushes. And when they took a few deep breaths their hands mutually separated, gaze switching direction upwards to where the sky rested.

  ‘This is my home,’ said the boy, looking at the impressive starry sky, the limitless lights faintly blinking against the eternal black matter.

  Sol couldn't bring herself to form a single audible sound, as the scene above their heads moved her so deeply, she felt the tears would start pouring out of her eyes any second if she didn't look down.

  ‘This is beautiful. The most beautiful thing I ever saw.’

  The silence of the city life vanished into nothingness, making one feel utterly alone but nevertheless full of life and potential to transform into any form possible in the entire universe.

  It truly felt like home, even for Sol and it was only her first time visiting this special place. Like the sanctuary was build only for those who are brave enough to face all of their fears, that night, the boy told Sol something of his life, which in turn gave her a greater understanding of his true character.

  According to the boy’s words, both he and his sister moved to a roof apartment, a decent train ride from their neighborhood. Their new home was extremely cheap, especially in comparison to their otherwise grandiose house where they lived not until long ago. He vaguely explained about their mother’s death and how much it actually affected Min. The big sister had always been flirting with dangerous lifestyle, however as their already unmoving mother passed to the other side, Min apparently made some stupid decisions. What they were exactly, Sol didn't find out as he swiftly kept a certain distance between them. They were surely getting closer but no amount of information would bond them so tight, Sol could call this relationship a family. The sole exception was the week prior to their disappearance that now seemed like an event unlived.

  One thing however kept bothering her and as her mind grew impatient, the question slipped out.

  ‘What about your father?’

  ‘What about him?’ replied the boy, while switching to lying position.

  ‘Well, where is he? Why don't you live with him?’ the questions boiled to the surface, unable to lock them inside.

  However the boy’s nonchalant manner of simply lying on the cold grass, started to eat on her nerves. Somehow she knew, there were scars bigger than that on her palm, of which she would never learn about. But of course, that was to be expected and Sol surely held much respect for both him and Min to let them live in freedom however they’d possibly like.

  ‘You sure are curious,’ he said with a giggle, his big eyes following her still seated posture.

  What if they really did something bad, she silently doubted, as she gazed right into his eyes that changed from the normal golden hue to that of utter darkness.

  The boy kept his gaze steady, unwavering, as if he was deciphering her silent thoughts. ‘We didn't murder him, if that is what you’re trying to ask. He is too low for that. And besides, he will eventually do this to himself as time was always his biggest enemy.’

  The moment Sol’s heartbeat wanted to pace, she exhaled a deep breath out, as the truth suddenly lay so open before her. Keeping the boy’s harsh remarks of his father aside, he was telling nothing else than the truth.

  They didn't commit a crime, and frankly after he spoke about it so openly, she immediately saw that this was the only thing she wanted to know. Perhaps Min did some terrible things to other people, but they certainly didn't kill their own father.

  Night carried on and so did the boy’s monologues. It was rather strange hearing him speak so much, but it lighten up the previous grim mood, and it also gave Sol some time to observe, to contemplate the newly made facts.

  She learned that although both of the siblings share their home under one roof, Min always stayed somehow absent from her brother’s life. The daytime and nighttime activity reversed for her – becoming a fulltime nocturnal creature. The only personal detail he said of his sister was that on some mornings when the sun shined so bright, that even the curtain doesn't do its justice in hiding Min’s figure, he could catch a glimpse of tears running down her pale cheeks.

  ‘Maybe she had a sad dream, but even so she seems sadder than before. I feel like she will vanish one day,’ his arm moved to cover most of his face, following by a deep exhale. ‘And there is nothing I can do to bring her back.’

  A long silence passed before he settled his mind to his usual serene state, to proudly state that whichever decision his sister made or will do, will nevertheless ring correct according to her instinct.

  Sol found out he still sees the band members, their friendship never drifting away like his sister is. Caged Minds indeed stopped their activity for the time being, but their presence in the boy’s life transformed into a bond even more profound than before.

  He also expressed great dislike of going to high school because he doesn't like the thought of obeying centuries old rules, and not because he is somehow too above it.

  ‘If we are so free in choosing different decisions, then why do we keep locking ourselves into smaller boxes.’

  It occurred to Sol, that this young boy was not an average teenager or even youth, trying to find his true self trough philosophical discussions. He didn't need to discover his passions, desires, or inner knowledge. He simply never lost them – they were always there, since birth, and because of his strong faith he had in his actions, thoughts, and words, he never bent elsewhere. He stayed the same. He stayed himself.

  It was deep in the night, when they reached the main street again. And right where Sol’s house stood, their unexpected meeting would once more separate them. Disconnecting the sheer possibility of their paths crossing in the near future.

  Sol invited him to stay the night and to her surprise, considering his strong personality, he accepted the invitation. This time as well, the boy slept in the room he last shared with his sister. As Sol opened the door to the guest room, a few steps ahead of him, the young boy immediately caught sight of Min’s butterfly knife resting silently on the nightstand.

  His eyebrows furrowed, however his lips stayed sealed. He didn't want to comment on the apparently unaccepted shape of steel, he liked the least.

  ‘Well, have a good sleep,’ said Sol in a warm tone, concealing the obvious aversion he had behind the Min’s gift to her. She passed his standing figure and once she stood in the doorframe, holding a knob with right hand, she added a friendly sounding, ‘see you in the morning.’

  ‘There is one thing I’d like to know,’ he quickly blurred out, before he lost the sight of her. ‘When I grow up, will you marry me?’

  The door stayed opened, frozen on spot, as Sol’s mind processed the heard information. The boy watched her intently, clearly stating his sincere wish and not a sarcastic joke.

  For a brief moment she was unsure of the kind of response she wanted to give, however as she saw no sight of his underlying intention, a warm smile spread on her face, saying, ‘of course I will.’

  The next day Sol faced the outcome, which she already experienced. The boy left without a sign, leaving the guest room’s bed perfectly made, as if no soul laid trough the night in it. Her mind predicted this kind of result and in all honestly, wasn't shaken by it, even though a slight discomfort in her chest resurfaced.

  The early morning evolved in the flower shop, waking her up to the life she was supposed to lead. She still stayed in her undecided disposition as to where exactly her own original path resided. But she nevertheless followed the task at hand efficiently, devoid of complaining or by distracting daydreaming.

  Once at home, she went straight ahead toward the garage, where the two statues patiently w
aited for her.

  Maybe these are the only people that will never leave me, she thought then at once stopped to see a shift in her reality.

  The statue of her dream boy was bearing a deep scar across his cheek down to his sleek jawline. This made his beauty to take a turn to a more twisted, unconventional side.

  Sol instinctively glanced around the cramped space, filled with clay material stacked in white plastic containers, and various tools that helped her statues come to life. Her gaze followed the burning girl on the floor, and then again stopped by the dream guy, with a certain object being nicely put by his feet. She hunched to grab the object, which turned out to be her very own butterfly knife.

  After a few moments of fumbling the cold metal interchangeably between her palms, she saw another piece of information that could potentially explain the ugly scar on her still drying statue. Sol picked up a small piece of ripped paper and as she flipped it around, the words burned into her eyes.

  That’s what he was missing.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HAVEN’S HEAVEN

  Each passing day, the colors on the sky promised the eternal transformation. And like the petals on flowers or trees, months passed, until it was winter again. All the while Sol stayed faithful to her current path of sculpting, completely absorbing her entire self into the craft, creating one masterpiece after the other.

  The only real connection with the outside world was loosely taking care of the Smiling Gerbera, which she slowly lost the ability to see the purpose in it. It seemed that the flowers did its job in teaching her to outgrew her past. Leaving each developing stage behind while facing another by a clear head and an open heart.

  Sol could no longer feel trapped in a victim’s mentality and this realization came after long tedious hours of working on her sculptures. Inside her head the battle constantly persisted against the world and her. And no matter how hard she swung her arms in order to cast bad thoughts out, she was always the defeated one. That was the moment she realized how much blame and hate she spared solely for the poor world, which already appeared to be on the verge of dying out.

  For allowing to label outside world as a reality I decided it to be, for this, there is no one else to blame but myself.

  And it didn't matter if she really knew how to read people’s intentions accurately, because most of the time her own agenda stayed pretentious. But with sculpting her reoccurring nightmares into fresh blocks of clay, Sol’s subconscious mind became freer than ever before. One by one, the people of the past that kept pestering her nerves went on a road of no return. They left her only memories of neutral emotional charge, and deep forgiveness that was hard to describe in rational language.

  ***

  The working space expanded to a medium sized room right by garage, where by now looked completely devoid of even an inch of extra storage.

  In this new room, floor covered in thick plastic foil, stood her mother and father, and right by their side was her dead brother, on whom she spent extra time on, carefully crafting his figure out. There was also an impressive statue of Lion that somehow managed to leave an everlasting imprint on her, despite their short interaction.

  And while working on his sculpture, a strong desire of hearing their music pulsated inside of her, even when she knew the chance of hearing the melodies of their meaningful craft where more than farfetched to experience.

  Inside the new room, three high school friends stood. They held hands amongst each other, like on that fine day when Sol ditched her bitter outlook for a more spontaneous, positive view.

  She sometimes ran on her three lost friends, who gave her only a nod and a slight smile, clearly insincere in its nature. But she nevertheless faced them properly and greeted them aloud – this being a change in her, because otherwise she would fluidly cross to another street, only to avoid any chance of contact. But after their statues finished she felt a certain strength that said, don't be ashamed of who you are and don't make excuses for the things you like doing.

  And as always, each time she completed another sculpture, the figure she dreamed, taking out of her real life, disappeared. The dream world started to feel rather empty with the only remaining wanderers being Haven, who slowly turned into finished version, and the occasional appearance of the dream guy, who made Sol’s heart beat stronger each time she woke up.

  By the end of the year, Sol became so stronger she appeared to become a completely different person. And this change didn't pass by unnoticed, as when her parents finally decided to visit, in order to celebrate her avoiding birthday, her mother’s first words were precisely that, ‘you seem like a completely different person.’

  Perhaps this remark came from a place of concern, rather than compliment, but to Sol however, it felt as an accomplishment in itself. It was a proof she was doing something right with her life.

  It was Christmas Eve when her family gathered in a living space. They shared a sincere laugh in a long time all the while Sol opened a small line of presents. There were even some gifts she also prepared for both her mother and father. And as much as she still rebelled against these types of events, her heart warmed by the sight of two pairs of eyes who breathed life into her body.

  The tartan cashmere scarf, pocket money, sweets – which were impossible to buy in this new country – and small handy Canon camera, where all for Sol to enjoy and explore. Voicing the gratitude was hard to form, as she would honestly be the happiest if she received no material gift. Their visit was more than enough, even though sometimes they didn't understand how such an attitude came about from a young girl like her. In parent’s eyes she seem to behave like an old woman, and maybe she indeed was, considering the years living under the unaware influence casted by her grandmother.

  ‘You really didn't have to buy me anything,’ Sol persisted.

  ‘Everyone says that,’ her mother retort like a teenager, then quickly changed her voice to her usual understanding self, bringing a smile out of her daughter. ‘But I’m sure when we leave you will enjoy everything. Especially the chocolate.’

  While the father went to the kitchen area for another refill of the red wine, the mother swiftly slipped out a folded letter from her back pocket. She was extremely cautious that the father wouldn't notice her apparently not approved act.

  It was the first time that her mother wanted to share a secret with her, so this unexpected mannerism made Sol’s face look quite dumbfounded.

  ‘This is something for you, but I think it’s best if you open it later on. Perhaps once we leave,’ said the mother discretely, quieting her voice at best of her abilities.

  Sol grabbed the sad looking letter to camouflage it with her opened gifts. The family meeting lasted another half an hour or so before she announced a warm sounding goodnight, followed by a hug from each parent.

  Once she vanished into her own room, an unusual tiredness expanded trough her body. It was the same type of exhaustion that used to come at the most inconvenient times while attending high school. Like an uninvited guest it creep first on her shoulders, down her spine, and all the way to the toe fingers. And only after her body experienced the strange sensation of energy draw out, did the pulse travel to the very center of the brain telling her that sleep was needed.

  Sol put all presents on the desk by the large window, changing the daily outfit into a comfortable long flannel shirt, then dragged her tired limbs into the still cold bed. She didn't bother with turning the nightstand light off, as the sleep already came too forcefully onto her, hitting her eyes in possibly the same way as death will one day.

  After her grandmother passed away there were many times when she left the light beside her face on all trough out the night. It made the house a little warmer, a little less unfamiliar. And even though her parents were on their ten-day stay, and still very much awake on the first floor, an unwelcoming feeling hanged in the air. Like she was the intruder, the uninvited one.

  At around 5AM, when the dawn started to peak into Sol�
��s room, did she suddenly woken up. The routine of early mornings still persisted in her body rhythm – all thanks to the flower shop. With not much choice left, she sat up, turning the nightstand light off and letting her eyes rest on the gentle nature that was shaping out of the pitch black outside her window. A few minutes of serene stillness passed before she stood up, stretching her arms across her head like a cat would.

  In a faint morning light she gazed over the presents, when she remembered about a peculiar gift: a letter.

  Sol searched trough-out her new belongings, to finally detect the shape of a folded paper. For a moment she stood with the supposed secret in her hands, hesitating to open it, as the mother indeed gave a slight warning of potential disturbing nature she might face while getting exposed to it.

  However, as it is with all forbidden things, one simply cannot stay put and wait the time out, especially if it’s so close to the revelation. In this department Sol was no different. She may be extremely patient but only for the things to come, the things that were still out of reach. This however, was so very close and tempting she felt like the only choice was to actually open it and see if it’s really disturbing in nature.

  Sol unfolded the letter then pulled the content of two separate pages out.

  You should sit down for this, said the voice in her head. And even before she run her eyes across the writing, Sol really sat down on her bed. In a comfortable position, of tucking her legs under the soft sheets, she started to read the content dedicated to her.

  The morning light brightened the room for only a few shades, but she surprisingly saw each and every letter with clarity. It’s quite amazing how little artificial light human eyes actually need.

  ‘Everyone says one should start at the beginning, but I will start at the end. I would first like to say I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, but especially for that time when I almost let you die.’

  A wave of anxiety rushed trough her body, molding her face into a strange reaction between anger and embarrassment.