‘Min,’ she said.
‘I’m glad you still remember my name,’ replied the girl forming her distinct lop sided smile, which Sol almost forgotten by now. And yet here she was, appearing in flesh and bones, right in front her. ‘What’s with leaving though? Aren’t you star of the night?’
Sol wanted to speak about so many things, however the only thing that came out of her, was a shallow breathing. It was as if they were sent back in time to reenact the exact same reactions, the mere difference being questions.
‘Lion also wanted to come, but he had an extra shift tonight, so here I am. By myself,’ Min further dictated the conversation, to avoid the still persistent look of shock on Sol’s face.
After a few moments of nothing but background noise, Sol said a sincere, ‘I missed you.’
‘Me too,’ added Min without hesitation, refreshing Sol’s memory by giving her a piercing gaze.
‘So, these are the seeds you planted,’ the girl colored her witty comment in a serious tone. ‘I must say I am impressed. Even though I don't know much about art, but that one, under the red light,’ her head showing the direction, ‘that one, is a masterpiece.’
For the next minute or so, the girls mutually shared one view, directed at her final statue. It was of a sleeping young woman, and even though the position was a natural lying one, it was stationed vertically. The young woman was taking a deep motionless sleep, the only hint of life twitching underneath being the faint smile. From a different perspective she might as well be lying on deathbed, as even her hands were crossed in a peculiar way on top of her chest. The long hair framed the bare shoulders, whereas under her stomach, scars started to form in the shape of flowers.
‘This is exactly how I see you,’ commented Min, her eyes locked with that of the sculpture.
Sol interchangeably switched her view in between the sleeping woman and Min, then reply with a simple ‘thank you,’ but to her the words of the girl held much more weight. They were the words she wanted to hear the most. And at the same time, it was also remembrance of a comment, which she heard once before, many years ago, in the cramped garage where she started this journey. Only then, it was the boy talking about his own sister.
The young woman taking a deep sleep, or perhaps a short wait, before being transferred to coffin, was in fact Sol’s self portrait – the first and the last. And there was no other person, who connected the dots of sculpture being a representation of her, better than Min did. Because after all, the only one capable of grasping the meaning – who understood what Sol, tried to convey – was in fact the girl from the past.
The great plan of escape was supposed to happen with Sol ending her night, hiding in apartment, caressed by the familiar solitude. However, no plan goes according to one’s imagination.
This time another scent filled her bedroom, the scent never before experienced in such close proximity. It was Min’s charm to get her way trough, and no one could possibly argue to which extent the strength of her will cease to exist. In many instances, it seemed, she beat the opponent – in this case Sol – to do something other than what their own will insisted on. And even though Sol heard a few uncomfortable facts about the girl’s new life, she couldn't help but see the same beautiful face, having the same force running down her veins, enabling her to age even a day. She was still the same mysterious girl who used to posses her mind.
Moonlight shined into the bedroom, lining each of the two girls bodies in a magical silver color. Both of them laid down on the double bed, the exhibition wardrobe still attached on. Trough an open glass door cicadas showcased their repetitive sound to all the people, reminding them that nature regenerates itself from any condition or any situation. Her resilience stood undefeated against humanity and no man made machine could ever silence the engine of nature.
‘I’ve been thinking a lot about it and I’m glad we met only now,’ said Min after a good half an hour of insect orchestra. ‘Anytime before would lead to a bad outcome.’
Sol mulled over this and as much as she wanted to agree – perhaps under some unseen layer she already did – she yearned for explanation. Sol propped her head with her left palm, turned towards the girl and asked, ‘What if this is the bad outcome?’
The girl rolled to her side, turning her back on Sol and looked across the glass door, gaze lost to the moonlight. ‘My outcome would always turn bad anyway. What matters is you, and you’re finally doing something good.’
Sol furrowed her eyebrows, not knowing how to respond without shouting. The anger slowly built inside of her chest, and no amount of breathing helped her to calm down. ‘I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. I don't understand why you always encourage me and believe in me, but when it comes to your life, you completely give in. It’s like you have no hope left and that scares me.’
The face Min made was thrown into the dark, but judging by the sound Sol was certain she released a small laugh. ‘I never had any hope to begin with but that doesn't bother me. All I wanted I achieved, and the only other person beside my brother is seeing you happy. So there is no reason for you to worry over me, and there is certainly no need to be scared. Because I never am.’ After a deep exhale she turned over, her hand stretching under the pillow. A brief paused passed, giving Sol a time to think this over, before the girl reopened her intense gaze and said firmly, ‘I don't know if you learned it already, but the only reason you have worries in the first place is because you are consumed by fear. When I first saw you, you were filled with it. You had a disease, which thank god, started to get cured.’
Sol released her hand down, her face hitting the edge of the pillow. She listened very carefully to what the girl, a couple of inches away, had to say but there was no connection from the answer before and now. And even when she looked for underlying intention there were still none.
‘But you said that the first time you saw me there was fire inside, how come there was also fear?’
‘Of course there was fire, and there still is only now it’s more visible. What was visible back then was only fear, lots of it. But you didn't seem to notice it because you were so concerned with what the world had to say, so you stopped listening to yourself altogether.’ Min pressed her other hand on Sol’s cheek, gently touching it like the mother would. ‘And now, now you’ve gotten much better. You finally listened to that little flame and look what it did. Imagine what else will it do when you’ll release all of it. I can’t wait for that day to come.’
Sol felt the tears build inside of her eyes, but she didn't tried to cover her sensitive nature or perhaps even her weak character. She let the tears mark her cheeks freely, saying a soft ‘I just hope you will still be here if that day comes.’
Min released her warm palm away from Sol’s face and brought her other arm out from underneath the pillow, holding something from past in her hand. The metal object lay heavily inside of her pale hand, and for some reason this made her smile. ‘After I’m gone, this will probably be the only reminder I was here once. So don't you dare lose it.’
That night a mysterious young man made appearance in Sol’s dream after a year, and for a reason unknown to her, it took her a while to wake up. The dream in itself wasn't sad, special or joyful – what it gave to her was a rather unexplained longing for something never to come. It was a goal unobtainable, yet at the same time she almost held it in her palm.
The unnerving feeling painfully dragged her feet across the apartment to get ready for an interview that would take place just a few hours away.
Before she left the spacious apartment, she silently peeked inside of the bedroom. There, for once, Min didn't left before she had woken up, but rather slept soundly, palms resting under her face. Sol left her home keys on the nightstand, and once she stood close enough she could see that on Min’s beautiful face, a handful of dried tears left their marks.
Perhaps the girl really wasn't plagued with fear like Sol was, but there was still a war raging inside of her. And
it was of that kind, which never get healed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHEN SKY GREW OLDER
The interview successfully finished and with that came a closure, which would in turn shock any reader of this monthly art magazine. There were in total fifteen questions, all asking the same while expecting a different answer. Sol has by now more or less mastered these types of unnatural conversations, twitching her answers a tad bit every few months, just to satisfy the consumers. And just like anytime before another set of already decided words popped up, waiting for her reply.
At the very end portion of this interview, she was once more asked, ‘Can you tell us something about your next project?’ to which anytime before she answered a generic, ‘that is a secret. But I can say it’s going to be big and shocking.’ This time however, Sol couldn't tell something of which she didn't believe in. So there was no other answer more fitting than the bare truth, even if it made the interviewer quite speechless afterwards.
Sol already decided where her future is heading and it was then, at that small coffee shop – where she used to ponder about her art or life – that the reply smoothly rolled out of her tongue.
‘That was my final piece. After yesterday’s exhibition I decided that I’ll step out of the art scene.’
And even thought the interviewer got their answer, for some reason the meaning didn't sink in.
‘I am certain many of our readers and your fans will be devastated to hear the news, but we must all understand how much artists also need their vacation, their time off. So tell us, do you have any set date on when you are returning back?’
Sol was composed, her posture straight as an arrow. She crossed her hands over her knee and looked deep into the interviewer’s eyes. ‘The Revival series have ended with much success and for that I am extremely grateful. However now, came the time to end my work. Even if I wanted to sculpt further, it would come from a place of insincerity and that is something I would never be able to do. I could never deceive others by creating false images.’ Sol took a brief pause, making sure that the woman in front of her really understood what’s been said. ‘As for my fans, I want you all to know that what you’ve seen was the truth. It was something in which I deeply believe in and stand proud of. And from here on it’s your turn to continue the series. Let everyday of your life be a revival and don't ever look back on your past with sadness. What matter’s is the truth and that can always come only from your heart. So don't be afraid to look inside.’
After Sol walked out the coffee shop into the summer sun, she released a deep exhale. A moment of stillness passed before a smile formed on her face, lighting her whole being with confidence. With her long strides she almost glazed trough the busy city, never once stopping or changing her direction. It was more than clear where her next stop would be.
As she entered the desired destination, Lion greeted her with a waving hand. And even when the bar has been completely empty, Sol still choose the same seat she reached for the last time. It took a good ten minutes of nicely cooled air and a tall glass of water, before Lion took his seat at her table. His outfit was the same as the week before. White shirt with sleeves rolled up, black fitted trousers and leather Chelsea boots. Not too polished or too abandoned looking. The bar was after all leaning heavily on the more casual side, so there really was no need to be extra formal about ones wardrobe etiquette. Lion however, could make even the shabbiest outfit into that of a decent type, and that was something Sol realized only then, as she stared at him, waiting for the conversation to start.
‘I’m sorry I couldn't make it the other night, but you know how it is. With money and everything,’
‘Don't worry about it. You can still go to the gallery until the start of September if you want.’
‘You know, I’ve been to Seeds about a week ago, but you weren’t there. There were only a few of your statues, and man, you really do have talent. I didn't know you were this good,’ he said with a genuine impressed tone, then quickly switched it to a joke, ‘Now I can brag to others I know a famous person,’ his laughter made Sol laugh as well.
‘Thanks. I really appreciate it,’ she replied in sarcastic undertone.
Lion run his fingers trough his curly hair, before starting a delicate question of much interest. ‘So how’s it been, with Min?’
Sol mimicked his gesture and answered in a careful way, saying, ‘I’m really glad she came by.’ By the look of his face, however, she was certain he sensed a reply without much depth or sincerity. So this time around, inside of her mind, she decided it’s best to be honest. ‘Actually, I was so scared when I saw her, but now I know she’ll be fine. I hope so.’
‘I know exactly what you mean,’ he immediately added, not taking a time to catch a breath. ‘But with my case, whenever I see her or the kid, I can’t help but expect something bad to happen. I mean, just thinking about what both of them went trough...’ Lion bluntly stopped, looked down at his palms then gazed over the empty bar. His mouth corners wanted to say something, but then he stopped again. Only after a minute or so did he proceed, carefully picking each letter.
‘The world is just never fair. Even to kids who are supposed to be born innocent. At times I feel like something other than our own actions and efforts control our faith. I feel like no matter how hard you try, or be good, this faith is already decided and there is nothing you can do to reverse its effect. Like-’
‘Like we’re thrown into hell at the mercy of god and it is his will if he decides and drags us out.’ Sol finished, as if she morphed into another being. The silence fell heavy over them, however they stayed on the same page. Lion’s vigorous nodding agreed to her abrupt interruption.
‘Exactly,’ he said firmly, slightly smiled but in the next second formed a different face. There was turmoil sensed in the back of his otherwise friendly mask and Sol knew a heavy subject was about to be known to her. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking and I think now it's the right time to tell you something about Min and Hell. But only if you have time, because it’s going to take a while.’
There was nothing to think trough as far as Sol was concerned. She wanted to taste at least a fraction of the story of these strange siblings. She wanted to relate, to belong to their world for so long, that now, after finally being given a chance to discover their past, their essence, her feet became restless and her heart started to beat with an anxious undertone.
It was as if she was about to fall in love or die in the next second. Which of the two was the correct answer, was made clear only after she heard the details out.
Around the time Min started visiting the kindergarten, her parents already announced war between each other. The mother was that rare striking beauty one encounters every few decades that last for another few. It was irrelevant to point out the amount of attention she got from an early childhood. However, there was also something more to her than the perfectly designed shell. Their mother had a brilliant mind, intelligence incomparable to her peers, promising her that a great future laid ahead. Then their father came into play, ten years her senior, a newly made behavioral psychologist. It was an instant love, a spark so bright that could never separated them.
By the time Min was born, their mother significantly prolonged hours spent in the house. She was becoming more and more asocial, unhappy and confused. The father however, saw her only as a subject to his study, protecting her from any influence made by the outside world to watch her react to this virtually spotless space. Her isolation, fueled by his form of obsession, made it seem like she was a princess in a castle, but instead him being the hero to save her, he was the guarding dragon.
In the meantime the boy was born, steadily growing up and for a while it appeared mother’s racing mind calmed down and accepted her future being that of a simple housewife. Min on the other hand fought her own demons in her head, as well as those on the street while facing constant questioning about her mother’s absence. The neighbors were persistent in finding the truth
out, but so was the little girl. She would always repeat the same excuse of saying ‘she’s just not feeling well today’, the truth in fact not being farfetched.
There were many attempts of mother taking her two kids and trying to escape the house, but would always result in returning back and upon arriving into their skillfully designed place called home, the father explained them in his obnoxiously caring tone, that there is no need to runaway, and even if they make it they will never be able to survive. On one of those turbulent nights, the mother visited their children’s room. She held both of them close to her heart and said in a firm voice, ‘I will win this war no matter what.’
However, what turned out to be the winning move was that of never getting out of bed again. Overnight, their mother lost all sense of what it meant to be alive, as she entered a vegetative state of consciousness. Then everything switched for this already unfortunate family. For a while Min took care of her little brother while father diligently watched over his bedridden wife.
But slowly the alcohol slipped into the house making them almost face irreversible bankruptcy. Father would drink his life and career away, while he struggled to work from home, barely supporting the damaged family. Disappointed over his life choices, lost obsessions and admiration over his beautiful wife, he pounded his drunken fists to their mother’s motionless body, while she would take each blow wholeheartedly, never fighting back.
It was Min’s job to heal the wounds on her long lost mother, suffering every time when she grazed over her bruised face with a warm cloth. This family was perfectly summarized with son’s first word, hell, as it was indeed a home where the devil’s disease raged, affecting them to the last fiber of their wounded bodies. Then suddenly, like the thunder strike on a summer day, their beloved mother’s pulsing heart gave away, leaving them alone to the silent horror still taking place.
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