She said, "I don't want to go home."

I asked, "Why?"

She didn't answer immediately, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn't have.

She spoke, her voice but a little whisper echoing off the white-washed walls, "Because I don't want to go into my room."

Confusion welled up in me, and unable to stop, I once again questioned, "Why?"

She looked at me this time, not staring out the window with those fathomless orbs that seemed to see everything and nothing. She answered with a soft smile and gentle eyes that seemed to be looking elsewhere, "Because of the indulgences."

It was a simple reply to a simple question, but I didn't understand. Again, I wondered, "Why?"

Her eyes darkened with a hatred unknown to me, and for the first time, I felt scared. Not for me, nor for anyone else, but for the innocence growing up in front of me to a dark devil that's to swallow up the child. She spoke, "Suffocation," paused, and continued, "The darkening light turns muddy, murky,- as if I were at the bottom of a swamp. The beige walls slowly shrink, and the ceiling comes downwards. Crimson begins to paint everything in a bright blood red. It's hard to breathe." She curled up into a ball, snugly fitting into the fluffy chair provided for her.

I said, "Why do you feel that way?"

Her head didn't lift up from her lap, and her mouth seemed to be sealed shut. After a while, my answer came. "Indulgences." Her head came back up and those lavender jewels sweetened with a tinge of grief, adding onto the unbearable sorrow clouding her sight.

"How do you know?" Confusion and amazement grew in me.

She answered with a small genuine, sweet smile this time. "Because I like to see."


She pointed to the undergrowth hanging off the walls of the high way, and said, "Those are my dreams."

Surprised, I turned to her slightly, and nodded my head, prompting her to go on.

She didn't seem to be looking at me, but continued onward nonetheless, eyes still staring out the window. "Those are the gateways. I feel, as if - as if there's a world there that I can't see. But I don't mind that, because it keeps the dreams going. I can't see it, but it's clearly there and I dance. I enter the entrance, parting away the long strands of leaves covering the way, and I fly. The world is bright, the sky a baby blue, and the lake a sparkling paradise. Doves spring in and out from the green giants up top, and animals of every kind come to play. It's my world." A soft smile adorned her cheeks and her eyes shone gently with a wistful air.

I said, "Then let's go there."

She replied, "I don't want to."

"Why?"

"Because the dream will break, and I'll be blind." She turned towards me then. "I don't like being blind."


I saw her again at the hospital, the pristine white walls blindingly bright. I entered her room, and the sun light streamed in, casting her sitting form in a glowing halo. I felt as if I should have averted my eyes from such a beautiful and private moment.

She heard my footsteps and turned towards my direction. Her eyes didn't see me. Horror grew and festered in my chest. I left.


I came again, and this time she recognized my presence. The dimmed, but still breath-taking amethyst marbles looked at me. Her eyes didn't reach mine, and she stared down at my torso.

I asked, "Do you still see?"

She answered, this time with a grieving tilt to the grim line her lips were compressed in, "Yes."

I took a seat and sat down in the chair next to her bed. "Is it still hard to breathe?"

Her head turned back to the window, knowing where it is by the heat shining down upon her face. Her hand reached out to trace her lifeless legs. She stayed like that, almost like a statue if not for the small breaths she took occasionally. Silence reigned the air in the room, keeping me from opening my voice to ask again. Then, she spoke, "Freedom is sought but not obtained, chains are freed but cuffs come down onto my wrists. I'm bound, but with a leash. I get to soar, but only for a certain price. Breathing is an ability I yearn for, yet it is also something I have. I wish to not take in breaths to finally be let go."

I sucked in a breath sharply. "You don't mean that."

Conviction and anger overtook her voice, and for the first time since I met her, a furious air took over her reticent appearance. Vehemently, she spoke. "My bindings pull on me more and more each day as it passes. The suffocation from before is released to allow the mind to go on, but the ropes are tightened so that I cannot escape! My reliance and troubles haunt my sight, clouding it from the other matters! Confusion overtakes me and suffocation comes back, still with the chains tight around me. I feel trapped, a bird in a cage, and to fly I need to die!"

She quieted down. "I see no other way out." The whispered words, filled with such an unbearable burden struck out at me. I looked at her closely, clinging onto the last vestiges of hope. But nothing came to mind. There was no other way out. My selfishness clung to her though. So I didn't reply, and I walked out.

That was the last time I had ever heard of her again.


The sky was grey, but no rain drops fell. I was the only one there. No one else had come. The dying grass, stained a yellow color, bent to the soles of my shoes as I stepped on them, making my way to that single slab of stone. I reached it and smoothed my hand over its black surface. It was made of obsidian, to allow her a weapon when she had reached where she wanted to go. I ordered it to be so.

Liquid began to fall from its slumber. My eyes started to blur and I see no more. I hadn't seen since she died. Or had I ever seen before? I didn't know. Rain fell, the droplets dotting the stone slowly, seeming as if the rock itself was also crying along with the weeping sky. I didn't know. It didn't matter anymore. The dream was shattered and reality was returned. I traced the words on the stone one more time, and will once again leave.

Here Lies:

Adina Adali

'Life bound in chains

and

Death brought to life,

I reach my dreams of Paradise'