Today… I cried a little less, I think.
As I write, the stones inside me shift, but none of them fall.
They just change places, doing nothing more than that. It doesn't bring relief.
But if I didn't write… it would be worse, I know that.
As I slowly set the pen down, the words still lingered at my fingertips.
If I didn't write, I would speak. If I didn't speak, I would stay silent.
And the more I stayed silent, the more something inside would crack.
That's why I kept writing.
Just as I was about to lift my head from the notebook, I heard a faint murmur from within the room.
It sounded like the wind — but it wasn't.
The window was closed.
Nothing stirred in the reflection on the glass.
I was about to rise from the chair, leaning forward slightly.
And that's when my eyes caught the notebook again.
The words I'd written... had changed.
No, they hadn't been erased.
They'd been overwritten.
Not scribbled out — purposefully, consciously altered.
At first, I couldn't make out the letters.
I looked at them like a child trying to read for the first time.
But each letter struck my heart like a musical note.
"vLnmeari… nh… aers… yuo…"
A mess... yet it had meaning.
I followed the strokes with my eyes, trying to pull words out of the gaps:
Velmarin hears you.
I couldn't silence the voice rising within me.
Who?
Who hears me?
What did I even say to anyone?
A chill crept down my spine.
That name... it echoed somewhere deep inside me, as if it had always been there.
It left behind a strange feeling, impossible to describe — but it felt like I was being watched.
Someone was watching me.
Or not watching… just listening.
My heart began beating in another language.
That name — Velmarin — carried a weight I couldn't explain.
Unfamiliar, yet deeply known.
"I didn't write this…"
My eyes were still locked on the journal, not a second of break, but the letters… they were back in place.
The page looked exactly as it had before.
But that word…
Velmarin.
It wasn't just written.
It was etched, like a seal pressed into something within me.
And the thought — what if it's all just a dream? — began clawing at my mind.
The night had stretched on, and the line between reality and illusion was shaking.
Yes. That must be it.
Just then, another sound came from behind the door.
Footsteps, soft and slow.
Like bare feet walking across damp wood.
I turned my head quickly —
Nothing.
But that feeling inside me…
I was being watched.
And no matter how still I stood, I couldn't hear a thing.
But I knew — I was no longer alone.
Someone — or something — had made contact.
Before leaving the room, I picked up the pen once more, needing to write one last sentence.
I scribbled it down quickly, then left to check on my aunt.
"I think your absence is slowly driving me mad, Amine."
As I wandered the old corridors of the house, I moved slowly, trying not to make a sound.
After a short while, the idea that everyone was asleep settled into my mind like a stubborn thought.
"What am I even doing?"
I should have returned to bed.
Midnight had long passed — maybe all the strange thoughts had just been dreams.
When I returned to the guest room, everything was just as I had left it.
Quiet.
Eerie.
A shiver ran through me.
I wanted to shake the feeling off.
As I paced the room, my eyes caught the window.
Its glass was fogged from the cold.
I traced a small circle with my finger to peek outside.
The sidewalks of Keralin were wet, its lights flickering, its people unchanged: pale faces, hunched shoulders, hollow stares.
In this town, whenever someone stepped outside, it looked as if they carried the entire weight of their house on their back.
But tonight... something was falling from the sky.
At first I thought it was dust.
But no —
It was snow.
The first snow of winter.
Falling silently, almost ashamed.
But pure white.
Unblemished.
As if the sky had finally forgiven something.
But I...
I still hadn't forgiven the version of me trapped inside.
"How did this town swallow you, Aunt Adaline?"
I asked, only to myself.
The woman who once danced, whose laughter shook the walls...
Now faded between them.
I couldn't believe it.
What if I ended up the same way?
What if overthinking trapped me within four walls, too?
And now...
With the snow, came the memory of Yasmin.
Then... Amine.
Amine.
Amine.
Even thinking her name scorched my throat.
Just her name made my eyelids twitch.
And my heart — it refused to beat.
Once, everything felt easier.
But now?
Every thought wounded me in the same way, over and over.
I stepped away from the window.
On tiptoe, I walked back into the room.
The flickering light of the candle cast dancing shadows on the walls.
I watched the flame for a while, then blew it out in a single breath.
The room fell into darkness.
Now, only the sound of the dark remained —
And in my mind, the voice of a stranger who refused to be silent.
Amine.
Yasmin.
Velmarine.
Velmarine.
Velmarine.
Yasmin's eyes.
Amine's smile.
Amine's silence.
My aunt's quiet presence.
Amine's meaningless... no, meaningful — but dangerous gaze.
Suddenly, my mother came to mind.
"If you search too hard for answers, you'll end up losing yourself."
Who had I lost last?
Amine?
Or myself?
When was the last time I truly loved myself?
I felt like crying.
But I didn't.
I hardly ever did anymore.
Sometimes I thought of my tears as little rebellions, only real when no one was watching —
It made them easier to bear.
But tonight, there was only cold.
Only snow.
And silence.
My thoughts kept drifting away.
I couldn't hold onto any of them.
There were so many voices inside me…
Yet none of them felt like mine.
For a moment, I squinted.
There was no one in the street.
But I… I could still see shadows that didn't belong to anyone.
And in that moment, I realized:
I had become like this town.
Silent on the outside,
a storm on the inside.
The darkness of the night wrapped itself around me.
And just before I closed my eyes, one last thought crossed my mind:
"If I'm to dream tonight, please... let it be somewhere far from this town.
Aleda's Dream:
I felt strange.
Or rather, I felt... nothing.
My eyes strained under a blinding light, trying to make sense of my surroundings.
It took a while for my vision to clear.
This place was unfamiliar.
Then I realized—
This was a labyrinth.
Its walls surrounded me like a massive, living green creature.
Leaves, wet branches, and drops of dew had formed a gleaming veil around me.
The scent of soil, the soft humidity, and the cool wind slipping through the leaves gave me chills.
Yet everything felt… artificial.
My steps were light, but my heart pounded violently in my chest.
Why?
Because I was searching.
For Amine.
That lost, unreachable light.
She was the one unopened flower within me — visible to the eye, untouchable by hand.
And then…
I saw her.
Far away, turning a bend in the maze.
Her steps were gentle, graceful — like a leaf dancing in the wind.
Her long black hair rippled behind her,
and tiny golden specks sparkled on her skin like sun-kissed stars,
as if she had fallen from the heavens.
Her eyes…
A deep lake. An ocean.
Pure. Innocent.
They pulled me in, showed me nothing,
and yet... they were infinite.
Her face held no expression.
No joy, no curiosity.
Just a weight — and yet,
something achingly familiar,
dangerously beautiful.
Her skin, pale like candlelight, seemed to offer peace.
And she smiled…
Something inside me shattered.
I ran.
Without a second thought.
I didn't care about the wet leaves or the softness of the earth.
My heart threatened to burst from my chest —
But I had to reach Amine.
My pace quickened.
I reached out.
But with each turn,
she faded a little more.
Drifted a little farther away.
I tripped on a stone.
Fell to the ground.
My hands sank into the earth, my knees trembled.
But I stood.
Again.
And again.
It felt endless.
Every time I saw her,
her eyes looked away.
But then —
as she turned a corner,
she finally looked back.
And she smiled.
That's when I knew it was a dream.
The emptiness inside me deepened so violently,
my cheeks were already soaked before the tears even fell.
"Amine…" I whispered, voice trembling.
"Why are you leaving me? Why do you have to go?"
It was as if the dream itself was too fragile to answer,
but strangely comforting —
and that, perhaps,
was the best part.
I collapsed.
Braced myself against the earth,
but nothing felt solid.
Everything was like Amine —
lost and fragile.
Then —
a sound.
"My Yasmin…"
Familiar.
Gentle.
Yet echoing.
I turned my head.
By the fountain…
A little girl with red hair, curled up, was crying.
Yasmin.
Her hair glistened like morning dew.
Her eyes were filled with tears,
yet sparkled like stars.
It was as if all the world's sorrow had folded itself into that small face.
She knelt, hiding her face in her hands.
I stepped closer.
Kneeling silently beside her,
I wrapped my arms around her —
saying nothing.
"Yasmin… you're here," I whispered.
"İ found you."
She lifted her head slightly.
Her sorrowful gaze softened.
"I should've been with you…" she said,
her voice as delicate and breakable as glass.
"But I got lost…"
And then her eyes slowly closed.
Her form dissolved like light escaping from her body.
She vanished.
I turned around.
Beyond the thickets,
a shadow stirred.
I watched closely.
She was a frail, elderly woman.
Her face was marked by time,
but her eyes —
they carried a light from beyond it.
She looked at me.
She smiled.
In her smile was both an invitation and a trap.
An eerie aura surrounded her.
Her voice, velvet-soft, spoke:
"Lilly," she said.
"I will help you find your way."
A cold emptiness spread inside me.
Yet her voice…
was so gentle,
I couldn't help but question everything.
Who was this woman?
Why did she call me Lilly?
And why did she feel so familiar?
Amine's figure was still in the distance.
But I could see her.
She stood, watching me.
Her face turned toward me once more.
Her eyes…
still revealed nothing.
But I felt the storm within her.
Because the same storm…
was howling inside me.
Then, a tight pressure clenched my chest.
For a moment,
my heart forgot how to beat.
I gasped,
woke up —
breathless.
My face was soaked with tears,
the pillow wet beneath me.
I sat up in a panic.
Tried to steady my breath for what felt like forever.
Then —
I heard movement in the house.
People were waking.
I checked the time.
I was almost late for breakfast.
And then I remembered —
"Damn it! I was supposed to meet Mrs. Laya."