I hear the voices of both girls first—they are speaking loudly and violently, as if arguing at the edge of emotions. These voices cut through the silence, shattering it into thousands of sharp fragments. Every word slices the air like a blade, exposing hidden pain and misunderstanding between them. The tension builds, like a storm slowly approaching the shore—it is felt in every breath, in every creak of the floor. Their voices carry a mixture of anger, despair, and anxiety—as if they are not just arguing, but fighting not only with words but with their souls. They try to convey something important to each other, something bursting out with force and uncontrollability, like an avalanche ready to sweep everything in its path. I can almost feel how every word hits my heart—painful and merciless.
Less than five minutes later, a scream suddenly pierces the air—it's Katrin's voice. She's calling me, and I immediately understand: I shouldn't have let Alice go to the bathroom for just a few minutes. Inside, everything tightens with anxiety and irritation—why didn't I anticipate that this could end like this? This guilt squeezes my chest, making it hard to breathe, and my thoughts are tangled and sharp, like a knife driving deeper with every second. My heart races, as if sensing the approaching storm, and I feel cold sweat cover my back, making the hairs on my neck stand up. Every moment feels precious, time seems to slow, and fear grows with double force, penetrating every cell of my body.
I leave the office and see my beloved standing strangely, looking at me as if confused or shocked. Her gaze seems lost—mixed with fear and a lack of understanding of what's happening around her. It's as if the world suddenly turned upside down, stripping away the support and confidence that have always been her shield. In her eyes plays a shadow of terror mixed with despair, and this sight cuts through my heart like a knife piercing all the way through. Next to her stands a frightened Alice—her eyes full of fear, as if she's afraid something terrible is about to happen, as if the whole world suddenly became strange and hostile. This fear pierces me through and through, making my heart beat faster and harder, while a wave of despair and helplessness rises inside, burning my soul with hot fire.
Suddenly, Rebel Girl takes another step toward me and suddenly falls. Time seems to stop for a moment—blood freezes in my veins, and everything around plunges into a viscous, unbearable silence, broken only by the sounds of my rapid breathing. I rush to her, trying to catch and hold her, but I'm too late. Panic overtakes me completely, my heart tightens with horror and hopelessness, as if a heavy stone has fallen on my chest, preventing me from breathing. I feel powerless, as if the world has collapsed beneath my feet, and no force could hold me. A storm of emotions rises inside—fear, pain, rage, confusion—all mixed into an impenetrable knot that chokes me and leaves no room to think.
"It's not me! I didn't do anything to her! She herself…" Alice begins to cry, trying to explain, tears rolling down her cheeks, her voice trembling with fear and despair, every word full of pain and confusion. Her voice carries genuine panic, as if she doesn't even understand what is happening, trying to protect herself from the impending disaster that seems inevitable and terrifying. Her soul opens in that moment—defenseless and vulnerable.
"Shut up, Alice, and call an ambulance," I command harshly, trying to drown the raging storm of emotions inside me—fear, anger, confusion.
I need to take control, to stay afloat despite the inner chaos threatening to tear me apart. Every muscle tenses, my voice firm, though everything inside trembles. This is a moment when emotions cannot be allowed to take over—I must act. Responsibility presses on my shoulders like a weight, but there is no retreat.
At that moment, Igor runs up to me. His face shows concern and anxiety, ready to help, but he also senses the gravity of the situation—as if he understands that something very important, fateful, is happening. Determination shows in his eyes, but also slight confusion, which only adds tension, making the atmosphere even heavier.
"How can I help?" he asks, trying not to show how difficult and scary everything is. His voice sounds confident, but deep down, he probably feels the same fears as I do—fear of the unknown, of what might happen next.
"Where is Alice?" I ask, looking into my friend's eyes, seeking support, at least some anchor in this chaos. I need to feel that I'm not alone, that there is someone who will help me handle this storm of emotions and events.
"She's calling an ambulance," he answers, and I feel a tiny spark of hope—help is on the way, giving my tortured heart some respite. This thought becomes a guiding beacon amid the storm of feelings, like a ray of light in a dark cave.
Carefully, afraid of hurting her, I lay my beloved in my arms and lift her. Her body is weak and helpless, her breathing uneven, as if every inhale takes enormous effort, as if she is fighting an invisible enemy inside herself. I carry her to one of the sofas in the corner of the dance floor, where I can try to help and wait for the medics, feeling anxiety squeezing my chest, time dragging painfully slowly, as if slowing every beat of my heart. The whole atmosphere is filled with hopelessness and despair, and it feels like everything is about to collapse, and nothing will ever be the same.
"Bring a pillow from the second floor," I order the bartender, and he silently goes to carry out the command. The air is thick with anxiety and uncertainty, every sound seems deafening, and my heart pounds in my chest as if sensing that everything could change forever at this moment. In this instant, there is a concentration of pain, fear, and hope—all feelings merge into a single powerful wave, engulfing me completely, leaving not a drop of peace.
I sit next to Katrin, trembling with fear—so strong that it seems to pierce every cell of my body, burning from within like a flame that cannot be extinguished. I have never been this scared in my life. This fear is not just a shadow on my soul—it squeezes me with unbearable force, trying to break me, turn me into a helpless boy, making my heart flutter and burn in my chest. Every muscle of my body tenses, as if my whole organism is preparing for the worst possible outcome. My breathing becomes interrupted, faltering, as if my body cannot cope with the anxiety, and my heart beats so wildly and loudly that I fear it will leap out of my chest and disappear forever, taking a piece of my hope with it.
From time to time, I carefully check Katrin's breathing and heartbeat, placing my hand on her cold skin. Every time, my heart tightens into a knot—I fear hearing that dreadful silence, the stop, the last rhythm that will freeze forever, taking with it all my hope, all my faith in a miracle.
No, she does not scare me—this is not just fear. It is something much worse, creeping into me like icy cold, wrapping the whole body, penetrating every nerve, every vein, making me tremble with complete helplessness and despair. And only the fact that she is still alive, weak, fragile, and vulnerable, clings to me, holding this feeling of despair at bay, not letting it completely take over me, settle deep in my soul, and consume everything without a trace, like a black abyss where light disappears.
I used to think that nothing could be worse than Rebel Girl leaving my life. But now I realize—I was deeply wrong. If she dies, if she leaves forever, it will be the most terrifying thing I will ever experience. And even if I can survive it, it will only be for Mary, who still lives in my heart and keeps me afloat in this cold and dark world. Mary—the only ray of hope that doesn't let me give up, doesn't let me dissolve into darkness.
Earlier, my beloved was far from me, but I knew—she was alive, healthy, and that gave me at least a spark of hope that one day I would see her again, be near her, feel her warmth, have her beside me. Then I, like a fool, started taking out my frustrations on her, unconsciously venting all my pain, fears, and disappointments, trying to shield myself from my own feelings, but ultimately causing her pain, not noticing it, and now I understand how much I have lost.
Now I realize how precious she was to me, how deeply I feared losing her. It would be easier for me to endure another breakup than to lose her forever—even the bitterest loss seems less terrifying to me than the void without her, this bottomless chasm of loneliness.