Chapter 15: Slipping away like sand

23 2 0
                                    

BA-DUM BA-DUMP~ BA-DUM BA-DUMP~

My heart was ringing loudly in my ears the whole time I was talking to Zwei.

BA-DUM BA-DUMP~ BA-DUM BA-DUMP~

I failed to realize it earlier, much earlier. The sign was already there and yet I failed to recognize it.

BA-DUM BA-DUMP~ BA-DUM BA-DUMP~

Keep going me, keep that poker face up. I can't let anyone know. I need to keep this brave face up until I reach my room. There, no one will see me. There, no one will know.

I exchanged greeting with each passing staff member, my heart hammering in my chest like a drumbeat drowning out all other sounds. Amidst the flurry of activity, a persistent inner voice urged me to hasten my steps.

As the last of the staff dispersed, I made my way towards the door of my chambers. Just as I reached out to grasp the handle, a familiar voice pierced the air. It was Viola, calling out to me from across the room.

"Madam, are you alright?" Viola asked me, concerned.

"I'm just exhausted from the party," I replied.

Hurry... Hurry...!

Beads of sweat formed on my palm to the unease swirling within me as I faced. Had my facade faltered, betraying the turmoil churning beneath the surface?

"I assure you, Miss Viola, I'm perfectly fine," I replied, willing my voice to remain steady despite the tremor in my hands. "But if it's not too much trouble, could you fetch me a late-night snack? The party left me famished, and I couldn't manage a bite."

At the mention of my hunger, Viola's demeanor softened, her tense posture easing as she let out a small sigh of relief. With a nod, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen, intent on preparing a much-needed reprieve for my empty stomach.

Seizing the opportunity, I swiftly slipped into my chambers, careful to muffle the sound of the closing door. Darting across the room to the sanctuary of my desk, nestled beside the towering window that overlooked the balcony, I retrieved a blank notebook from the depths of a drawer. With pen in hand, I began to scribble furiously, the urgency of my thoughts spilling onto the page in a frantic rush.

Somewhere along the line, I lost track of when I started believing I was Five. My sense of self felt as transparent as words etched in the sand, swiftly erased by the relentless tide. Desperate to grasp onto something tangible, I began documenting fragments of my identity: my past, my hobbies, my interests, my dislikes, my knowledge—and Tera.

Tera. The name stirred something deep within me, a whisper of significance that danced just beyond my reach. I struggled to summon a clear image of the person to whom it belonged, but nothing came into mind.

A heavy weight settled in the pit of my stomach as I grappled with the elusive memory, grasping at shadows in a futile attempt to reclaim what was lost. Tera was someone important to me, of that I was certain, yet the details remained frustratingly out of reach. My eyes began to water in frustration, and anxiety. I felt if I just remembered who Tera was, then I could recall more of who I am. I scribble her name down with an exclamation mark while circling it several times.

"Tera..." tears lingered down on my cheek as I took in a small breath, "Who is Tera... Tera..."

Like an ethereal specter emerging from the mist, a vague silhouette materialized before my eyes, its form indistinct yet hauntingly familiar. In the dim light, I discerned the outline of a figure seated at a grand piano, fingers dancing effortlessly across the keys. The melancholic melody that filled the air seeped into my very bones, freezing me in place as I listened, entranced.

I Will Hold Your Hand GentlyWhere stories live. Discover now