Prose by Ivonne Hartono

Edited by Gitsell Dominguez

🌙

“Hello, dear.”

Like a breeze against my skin, the captivating voice rolls over and through my ears. A drug that leaves a ringing at the trace of its echoes. In two words, I decide that your voice is my new favorite sound, one that will resonate eternally in my future.

You stand on the other side of the void in a place where darkness consumes the light, yet you feed the void with your everlasting glow, singeing at its edges and forcing its retreat. Oh, you beautiful thing, the center of the void, the only center I see. A radiant yellow light that promises warmth. Silently standing across the abyss with an expression too far to discern.

Fine hair that glitters like strands of gold sways with the soft breeze along with the yellow silk that covers your body. And if I were to squint my eyes, I can catch a glint of blue on your face. That vibrant blue cools and warms me simultaneously–and the sensation is something I crave, crave, starve after, and hunger.

In the face of such beauty, I can only stare in awe. Basking in what little light breaches through the darkness to highlight my darkened form. Bestowing my shadow with fireworks. Sparks of fake fire–crumbs falling from the real one–and just as addicting as its source.

I will my body to move, to reach for a closer look at the creature in my sight. Yet, it idles in its place. My will wither the moment I realize that I cannot move my own body, that I cannot move closer.

Then, golden strands sway as you turn your face away from me. I try to imagine where your eyes wander to, what reflects in them, and what they witness. I wish to follow your line of sight, to see what stole your attention away from me, to satisfy the desire that burns and burns and burns from within me.

“Your time is up.” Your voice echoes. In the distance, a steady ticking pierces my mind. It fills my mind like the water that fills this void. Silently drowning my thoughts with fear of never seeing you again. And the ticking only goes louder while my heart beats faster and faster and–

Then, everything goes silent when you say, “See you again, dear.”

And with that, our first meeting ends.

🌙

Our second meeting took too long for my liking. 

But all complaints die down once I realize you are closer to me than the first night. Close enough to see the puff of breath coming from your parted lips. Close enough to hear your heartbeat. Close enough that I can see your beautiful blue eyes despite the vast darkness we stand in.

Such a shame, though: they do not reflect my figure. Instead, you look away into the void with indifferent interest. Away from me–the one that you should give attention to. Away from the me who craves your being. 

So, I talk to you. I ask for your name, I ask for your attention, and I ask and beg and plead for you to turn your head to me so that I can see the beauty that I saw that first night. I scream for you. Yet, your eyes never meet my figure. They fixate on something that is not me.

Any delight from the newfound freedom of movement is consumed by jealousy and anger towards the object of your interest. If it is an object, I should destroy it. If it is a person, well… I should eliminate them. I turn to look.

And, like my complaints, the anger and jealousy die down when I see the machinery overlooking the two of us like an almighty overseer.

It is a majestic clock that ticks in tandem with our heartbeat. Steam blasts every few seconds from its sides, as if it was breathing. And, with a shiver running down my spine, I realize that the object is alive. 

It is alive, watching and observing. Moving its hands with every second to remind us of the existence of time in this dark void. 

And I see the golden pendulum that swings in time from one side to the other. Moving the gears in harmony with the ticking. Like an ancient grandfather clock my grandpa used to have: warm wood with splintering edges and peeling paints.

A living witness of time and space. The sole ruler of this void. One whose gaze judges our soul and sends a chilling sensation down my spine.

“Beautiful, is it not?”

I snap my head back to the you that stands mere feet away from me. I fumble over my words and my voice refuses to leave my throat as I stare at you. Sapphire eyes stare deep into my soul with a warmth that feels both familiar and strange. You smile as you watch me fail to speak a word when I had begged for you to speak to me mere moments ago.

I struggle for what seems like ages, too aware of the time ticking. Finally, my voice comes back to me and I can only think to ask your name.

My reward comes in the form of sweet melodic chuckles, or giggles. Nevertheless, it is an enchanting sound that I wish I had recorded. It would have brightened my dull days back in the unpleasant reality. I am disappointed when you stop after a while, but I remind myself that you will be giving me your name. 

“I have no name, silly.”

Your smile turns upside up more, while my frown goes down further. 

“I am whatever you wish to be. Anyone that you wish I could be. Everything that you wish to have.”

You smile warmly. 

“But I am also everything that you can never have.”

The clock continues to tick, and the pendulum continues to swing. But my world stops when those words leave your mouth.

 With that, our second meeting ends. 

🌙

Our third night is the one with the most surprises. Both pleasant and unpleasant. I want to hate that night, but that is also the night that you are the closest to me. 

The third night I see you in my dream, my body is again free to move. It listens to the harmony of my mind and beats in tandem to the beat of my heart. I dance in joy before rushing to you, my treasure. 

I will never regret having seen you. You are the most divine thing. I can see the gold that lines the edges of your eyes. I can see the wrinkles and glitters in your white silk. Your feet are bare, sending ripples of dark water from where you step. 

Yet, I frown at the sight of the bars that are between us, and my joy leaves me, leaving only a hole of disappointment Thin enough to see through the gaps but thick enough to not budge when I try to bend them. The space in between is enough for me to reach my hand out to you, but not enough for me to slip through to reach you. 

I grip the bar and yell out to you. Beckoning you to come close, to remove the bars that separate us or tell me how to free you from your cage. So that we can be together, so that we can be free to fly out of this darkness that we are stuck in. 

My pleading slowly dies on my lips as my cries continuously go without notice. My throat feels like sandpaper and my breathing strains in anguish and fatigue. I do not notice my knees trembling, nor do I notice when they give under the weight of my despair. Water ripples under me, echoing and clashing with your glow.

I dare to glance up at your ethereal figure and let out my best pleading look at you as a last-ditch effort to convince you to come closer. 

Instead, disdain fills your expression and you roll your eyes.

You turn your body away from me and walk further and further. My heart thumps against my chest faster and faster, more quickly than the fear that courses through my veins. I can feel the cold of the water seeping into my body as I begin to lose sight of you. And when I am about to scream– you finally turn to me.

“Why should I?”

You turn on your heels to face me. Eyes cold like the water underneath me. 

“You loud, annoying being. You talk to me, you scream to me. Did you ever consider that all I wish for is silence? There is no reason for me to listen to you, when you do not listen to me.”

The clock ticks louder and my ears are full of the cursed ticking, the ringing. I can only stare as you gracefully back away from me. With a sway, you stand back in the place that I saw you standing on that first night. 

As you had done on our first meeting, you turn your gaze away from me and look at the clock. 

“It is time for you to wake up.”

🌙

Our fourth meeting is no different from the previous one. Except the clock hands are nearing their destination. I am not sure how I know that the clock will stop ticking soon, but I know that this might be the final night that we share together. 

A part of me wishes to rush to the bars that separate us. I wish to call out to you like any other night to stay and never leave me despite the clock that watches over us. Let me touch you, let me unite our souls into one being as we are meant to be. 

Yet, I stay silent. Marveling at you from a distance with the same awe I have since the first night. Enjoying these last moments to appreciate your presence before you slip away from my sight.

You turn your face to me. You smile at me with no hint of contempt from our last meeting. I am glad that I chose to stay silent instead of begging you, for I am finally reflected in your eyes. 

Gently, I walk to the bars that separate us. Now that you have looked at me, I am no longer angry that we are separate. No longer desperate to touch and hold you. Only the foreign calmness that seeps into my being as I approach you. I stop a few feet away and smile at you. 

“Hi,” I speak with the softest voice possible. 

You smile brightly at me. “Ah, I see you are finally calm. No more of those begging that tore my ears, I assume?”

I shake my head while keeping my eyes on you. I let the silence fall between us, and give you the peace that you desire. In return, I get a second chance to bask in your presence. I continue to stare and stare, lamenting all those moments wasted crying over you who I cannot touch. 

I ignore the ticking clock, ignore the heaviness in my heart, ignore the sense of doom that looms over the two of us. I push down the idea that I will never see you again after tonight and that you will never exist in my life again. Let my future self grieve over the loss. 

Because if I let myself cry instead of immortalizing your face in my mind, I will grieve more. 

Then, the water ripples. 

Your bare feet glide across the dark water as your glow slowly fills my vision. My eyes goes wide to stare at your figure closing on me.

When you reach the bars, you phase through them. I stumble back as I follow every graceful movement. Before I know it, you are already standing before me. And for the first time, this dream truly feels like a dream. 

My mind is full of the vision of you, you, and you. All I see is you, and all I feel is you. Your warmth, your light, your glow. And despite my desperate wish to touch you, I cannot bring myself to. My fear of ruining what we have at the moment stops me.

Like a mind reader, you move according to my wish and embrace me in your warmth. 

I… forgot how to breathe. 

The hug.. it is everything that I imagine it to be and more. Burning my entire body with a simple gesture, rendering me helpless with warmth and sweetness. My hands tremble by my side, hovering over your body. How should I act so as to not bother you?

“This is what you wish for, is it not?” Your breath tickles my ears when you whisper those words. “What are you waiting for?”

I clench my hands and unclench. Bringing them closer to your back only to pull back. My fear clashes with my desire to return your hug, until my desire triumphs and I wrap my arms around you. In moments, I feel complete. 

Us, who once stood on the opposing side of the bars. You, who I crave, and I, who hungers. You, who fills my ever aching emptiness. Now in my embrace, like it is meant to be. Standing in the pleasant silence of our final hours, of our final dance and final song. Finally, we are one.

Then, the clock screams its final warning. The chiming of multiple bells in disharmony induces a nauseating headache that forces me to close my eyes. Even the screeching of thousands of ravens is better than the clock’s sound. I take deep breaths–forcing my body to bear the pain–and slowly open my eyes again.

“Ah, time’s up.”

From my peripheral view, I see a bit of golden dust falling onto the murky water. It floats for a while on the surface, before sinking to the bottom of the dark water. Then, another handful of golden dust falls and disappears in the same manner. Then another, and another, and another, and–

I turn my head to you, still in my embrace, just in time as another fine crack appears in your beautiful face. Oh, your beautiful face, which was supposed to be smooth and pristine like porcelain, now resembles one that had been carelessly dropped. Fissures give no mercy to the masterpiece that once was, and they cover your face. 

I can feel fear sending ugly venom across my veins, threatening to ruin our moments together. But a glance from your blue eyes purified them. An odd sense of calm washes over me. Gently, I bring my hands up to your face, tracing over the fissures like a lover would. 

The clock keeps ringing in the background, and with every chime, more of your body turns to dust. I do nothing even as half of your body dusted away. All I do and can do is stare, stare, and stare and try to commit whatever remains of you to my mind.

“Goodbye, my dear.” 

You say, as the edges of your smiling mouth disappear. 

And for the moment when the clock stops, my world is silent. Silence that encapsulates me in their cold embrace as dread slowly settles inside me. There is no laughter to fill in the silence, no sound of wrinkling clothes as you dance around, no sound of glimmering light, no–

There is nothing. 

And I wonder: is this what death feel like?

My lungs scream for air, and I gasp in desperation, then take one greedy breath. Followed by another, and another, faster and faster to follow the beating of my heartbeat which goes quicker and quicker. It goes fast, faster, and as fast as the questions in my mind as I begin to ponder a world where you do not exist even in this realm of darkness. In the cold realm that I willingly visit because it offers the only warmth in my life that is you and I–

I took a deep breath. 

I open my eyes. 

I am back to reality.

☀️

I wake up to the ringing of my phone on my bedside. My eyes skim over the name that shows up on its screen, before deciding to leave it be. My mind is too muddled to hold a single thought, let alone a conversation with the poor person calling me. 

I lift my hand up to touch my tired face and pull it away quickly when it returns damp. I stare at the glittering fingers and my mind immediately rushes to the thought of you and your smile. 

To the embrace that we share and the smile that is sketched on your face even as your body cracks. To the warmth that you emit and your glow that burns. To you who give me your last form of mercy and give me the one thing that I wish only to take away.

The phone rings again, rattling the nightstand.

I take a deep breath and let myself grieve.

Later, I will pick up the call, but for now, I will grieve for my loss.