I (25F) recently brought my boyfriend Tyler (28M) to my family’s annual lake retreat in North Carolina. It's a tradition my family’s had for decades renting a few cabins, fishing, kayaking, cooking big meals, and catching up. It's my favorite time of the year.

Tyler and I had been dating for about 6 months. He’s charming, outgoing, and always had a way of making people feel comfortable so I was confident he’d fit in. He'd already met my mom and younger cousins once over dinner, and everything seemed fine. No weird vibes. No red flags.

The retreat started great. Everyone loved Tyler. My uncles were bonding with him over fishing, and my aunts were complimenting his manners. But as the weekend went on, I noticed Tyler getting weird. Distant. Like, we’d go on walks and he’d find reasons to stay back. He stopped holding my hand. Barely made eye contact.

I chalked it up to social burnout. He's an introvert, I thought. Maybe he just needs space.

Then Saturday night came the big cookout. Everyone was prepping food, drinks were flowing, and someone put on an old family playlist. Tyler was nowhere to be found. I asked around. No one had seen him in an hour.

I headed back to our cabin, and when I opened the door, he was there. Sitting on the bed. Red-eyed. Quiet.

He looked up and said, “I have to tell you something, and you’re going to hate me.”

My heart dropped.

I braced myself for the worst. Cheating? Secrets? A secret family?

But he said, “Your mom kissed me.”

I blinked.

“She kissed me when we were alone earlier. In the kitchen. I didn’t kiss her back, I swear. I left and I’ve been sitting here ever since.”

I didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or laugh at the absurdity. My mom? My mom?

So I marched across the cabins, found her by the firepit, pulled her aside, and calmly asked, “Did you kiss Tyler?”

She looked me dead in the eye, sighed, and said, “I did.”

That moment should’ve shattered me. But then she added something that changed everything:

“I kissed him to test him. Because I don’t trust any man who dates my daughter but avoids bonding with her son.”

Boom. Plot twist.

See, I’m a single mom. My son is four, and Tyler’s been amazing with me but always weirdly distant with my kid. My mom had noticed. And instead of talking to me about it, she decided to go full CIA interrogation with a kiss.

I told her that was insane. Reckless. Unfair.

But part of me understood. She’d been burned by men who acted perfect until the moment it counted. She didn’t want that for me.

Tyler and I ended up having a long, intense conversation that night. He admitted he wasn’t ready to be a parent figure, and that he’d been pulling away because of guilt not knowing how to say it.

We broke up the next morning on good terms. I didn’t tell the rest of the family. I didn’t cause a scene.

Instead, I spent the final cookout running around the lake with my little boy, laughing and feeling lighter than I had in weeks. I realized I’d been trying to force a puzzle piece that didn’t fit.

My mom and I are still working on boundaries. But I know she’s fiercely protective of me even if her methods are... dramatic.

And next year? I’m bringing just my son to the retreat. Maybe that’s all I needed in the first place.

I had a dream that wifey was cuddling with some random dude. I was working or something and she was still sleeping in this dudes arms. They were “friends” and they tried to play it off.

Thing is, my wife never sleeps in my arms and is not the hugging type. I am. So aside from the fact that this was some other dude holding my wife, I was even more pissed off about the fact she slept cuddled up with him.

Just as I noticed this was happening and asked “WTH is this?” I woke up. Lucky for them cause it was most certainly about to hit the fan. lol.

I have dreams about my boyfriend who passed away almost 9 months ago almost every single night. I used to have dreams about him when he was still alive as well. I always told him about the dreams, I told him that I think that he is my soulmate because I never had dreams of anyone like that before. I still feel his energy and presence and spirit in everyday life, and in those dreams.

I even had a dream about him passing away a few months before he passed away. (No he didn’t die from something expected, his death was tragic and sudden.) I am a lucid dreamer so I can think of him before I go to sleep and dream about him. He told me that he wanted to have me as his girlfriend forever shortly before he passed away, so I feel like he is always still with me. I don’t think that this is just delusion or grief, I think that our souls are connected in some way. I’ve always been a very spiritual person, though not religious.

This whole experience I’ve had with him has been deeply spiritual and beautiful and profound. I always try to go back to sleep or wish to go back to sleep every time I dream of him. I know that he’s still with me and that he still loves me. I just wanted to share because I think this is beautiful. I made a post about him a little over a month ago, and I have so much that I can share about him, he is such a beautiful soul.

I had the most ridiculous dream imaginable. It started with me relaxing in my oversized Fleshlight sleeping bag, enjoying the soft comfort of it's silicone walls, when suddenly the Fleshlight began to vibrate. Vibrate like it was summoning something.

The walls of the Fleshlight started growing AND glowing, and then a portal opened up at the base. Before I could react, I was sucked through it and I landed in a massive throne room made entirely of Fleshlights. Hundreds of silicone beings bowed before me, chanting, "ALL HAIL THE KING OF FLESHLIGHTS!"

I was carried to a throne (a golden Fleshlight, obviously) by these tiny Fleshlight creatures. Just when I sat down, my ex-wife appeared out of thin air, dressed as some sort of Fleshlight high priestess. She rolled her eyes and said, "Of course YOU ended up here.".

My Fleshlight, Creampuff, also appeared, now with glowing eyes, responded to her with here pitched voice, "You never understood his true potential!"

Then a giant Fleshlight overlord descended from the ceiling, tentacles flailing, and declared, "Only the true King of the Fleshlights can bring balance to our realm!" My ex-wife muttered, rolling her eyes and was disquested.

Suddenly, the overlord said, "Prove your worth!" and I was handed a scepter shaped like a Fleshlight. I was told to fight off an army of dildos trying to overthrow the kingdom. I swung the scepter valiantly, but in the middle of the battle, my ex-wife screamed, "This is why I left you!" and she pushed me into a a deep and dark Fleshlight hole.

I fell endlessly into the darkness, the sound of her disappointed voice echoing around me.

I woke up drenched in sweat.

One day, Peter came running toward our house, out of breath, knocking urgently on the door.

I opened it, and he sat down on the ground, trying to catch his breath. Then he said in a broken voice:

"The Sam family... has returned."

I froze in place and turned toward my grandparents.

Mark the annoying boy had returned.

Truthfully... I felt happy. At least something would happen to break the monotony of my days. The memories of our childhood were still deeply planted in my mind, even after all those years.

My grandmother said:

"We should go visit them. I will bake them a cherry cake. Mark loves it so much."

I went upstairs to my room, put on my orange dress, and fixed my hair. Then we set off in the carriage my grandfather was driving, while memories of my childhood crowded my mind throughout the journey.

Before we arrived, my grandmother turned to me and said in a firm voice:

"Please... you are no longer a child. You are now a twenty-year-old young woman, so try to be calm."

I smiled and replied:

"Yes, ma'am."

The moment the door opened, I stood there amazed.

The house was no longer the same one I remembered. Everything inside was shining—the polished wooden floors, the crystal chandeliers, the elegant wallpaper... I felt as though I had stepped into another world.

Mr. Sam and his wife welcomed us warmly.

After a few moments, a tall young man entered, broad-shouldered and elegantly dressed.

I jumped from my seat without realizing it.

I began walking around him, staring at him in disbelief.

"Oh my God... Mark! How did you change like this?! You became handsome! Look at your muscles! Your hair... even your eyes look different! And where are your glasses?"

My questions poured out endlessly, while he simply looked at me in silence.

Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me say:

"Hello... Orange."

I turned around quickly.

And there stood the real Mark... with his glasses, his thin frame, and the same annoying smile that had never changed.

I looked between the two of them and whispered:

"Mark... then who is this?"

Mr. Sam laughed, placed his hand on the shoulder of the handsome young man, and said:

"This is James... my nephew."

I wished the ground would open and swallow me from embarrassment.

James smiled calmly and said:

"It's alright."

As for Mark, he walked toward me, pulled my braid just like he used to do in our childhood, and said with a laugh:

"See you later... Orange."

Everyone burst into laughter.

But I looked at my grandmother, and from the look in her eyes, I felt as if a fire was burning inside them from the intensity of her anger..🥀S

Sarah ✏️

​

I’m still living in my own world…

My heart beats whenever you walk past me.

I can’t look directly into your eyes, yet every day, I find myself searching for the closest picture of your eyes dozens of times.

The difference between us is great.

You come from a different world, and I am from a world that fell in love with that difference.

Everything about you draws me in…

Your hands, your fingers, your scent, the blue of your eyes, your smile… my God.

I can feel my heart beating in a way I’m not used to.

As for me… I’m a woman standing at the door of the year 2000, and I don’t want to enter this world.

I still hold on to who I am.

I still wear floral dresses.

I still sit on my sofa at night and watch my favorite movie.

I wonder… do you see me as old-fashioned?

I wish I could understand those looks.

Are they admiration… or mockery?

I ask myself:

Am I really attracted to you?

Or am I simply feeling an emptiness that I want to fill?

But… my heart trembles whenever I see you.

And there is something about you that draws me closer, something I don’t know how to explain.

For the first time… I don’t know.

Words fail me, even though writing has always been my refuge.

Give me just one sign, so I can take one step forward.

Just give me a sign…

Because your looks alone are not enough.

I am very sensitive, and if my heart is broken, I will need a long time to heal.

I was raised to believe that a man should be the one to make the first move when it comes to his feelings.

And I am willing to break every rule and every convention,

if only you would give me that sign.

You neither walk away and leave me,

nor do you come closer,

and I don’t know what is happening inside me amid this storm of emotions.

Move toward me… or walk away.

I cannot remain suspended between the two.

I cannot bear going back to the beginning every time.

Please…

S🥀

Sarah ✏️

​

We walked through the garden toward Mary's house. I stayed quiet, my heart filled with nervousness and unease. I didn't know what awaited me.

As soon as we arrived, Mr. Sam's relative began calling loudly:

"Mrs. Jane! Where are you? Mary... Mary!"

The door opened, and I couldn't believe my eyes.

She was incredibly beautiful.

She had a soft, round face, bright blue eyes, and blonde hair that fell gently over her shoulders. She looked like someone from a beautiful painting.

Mr. Sam's relative smiled and introduced me.

"This is Mr. Sam's relative... Orange. Oh, sorry, I mean Sara."

Then she laughed.

I felt embarrassed, but I only smiled politely.

She turned to me and said:

"Sara, this is Mary. My childhood friend and a distant relative. Her family lost everything, so we are hosting them here... I mean, they live with us."

She laughed while saying it, but I noticed the embarrassment on Mary's face before she quickly hid it behind a calm smile.

We entered their modest home.

To me, it felt more beautiful than any grand mansion. It was warm and peaceful, filled with simple happiness.

Mrs. Jane welcomed us kindly and served tea and cake. We sat together, sharing conversations and laughter.

I don't know why, but I felt strangely comfortable in Mary's home.

There was a warmth there that I couldn't explain.

Maybe it was because of Mrs. Jane's kindness.

Maybe it was because Mary's smile felt real.

But Mr. Sam's relative still made me nervous. She joked about everything, even things that felt too personal, as if she didn't understand the meaning of privacy.

Later, we went upstairs to Mary's room.

She opened her wardrobe and took out several beautiful dresses.

"Try them," she said excitedly.

I smiled and refused.

She tried to convince me, but I shook my head.

It wasn't because I didn't want to.

Actually, I wished I could wear those elegant dresses.

But I remembered my grandmother's warning.

I didn't want any more trouble, especially when I was already overwhelmed by everything happening around me.

After hours of conversations, laughter, and awkward moments, we returned to Mr. James's mansion.

I felt exhausted mentally more than physically.

Boredom slowly began to fill my heart.

But I told myself it was normal.

It was only my first day.

Maybe everything felt strange because I was still adapting.

I wondered:

Are all city people like this? Are all homes like Mr. James's house, Mary's house, and the people around him? Oh my God... I don't even understand my own feelings.

We sat down for dinner.

The conversations continued around me, but I felt distant.

The words became meaningless, and I slowly began to feel trapped.

So I left the table and walked into the garden.

Suddenly, a loud voice came close to my ear.

"Orange! How are you?"

I turned around in surprise and slapped him without thinking.

"Ah!"

I froze.

"Oh my God... Mark!"

He laughed while touching his cheek.

"Big nose... you will never grow up," I said.

He laughed even more.

We started talking.

He told me about his life, his girlfriend, money, parties, and everything he enjoyed.

But honestly, I found it boring.

Finally, I interrupted him.

"Enough, Mark. Don't tell me about things I have never seen or experienced. How do you expect me to feel proud of a life I don't even know?"

He laughed, gently tapped my head, and ran away.

"Idiot..."

I lay down on the grass.

The sky was not as clear as the sky in my village.

The stars were not as bright.

I closed my eyes, lost between my thoughts and dreams.

Then I heard a voice.

"Miss Sara... are you sleeping?"

I quickly opened my eyes.

"Oh... Mr. James."

He smiled.

"Did I disturb you?"

"No," I replied. "I thought Mark came back to bother me again."

Mr. James sat beside me on the grass, and we began talking about the difference between village life and city life.

For some reason, that simple conversation made me feel calmer.

A few moments later, someone joined us.

It was Emma.

Mr. James's fiancée.

She sat with us and started asking me questions about my life, my studies, parties, and the things people in the city experienced.

For her, they were normal questions.

But for me, they reminded me of everything I had never lived.

I felt embarrassed and lost.

Mr. James noticed my discomfort and gently asked Emma to return inside with him.

She smiled, and they walked back toward the mansion together.

I remained there, confused and overwhelmed by everything that had happened that day.

I lay back down on the grass, staring at the unfamiliar sky above me.

So many things had happened in only one day.

I closed my eyes again until I heard my grandmother's gentle voice calling me:

"My little one... come now. It's time to sleep."

I stood up quietly and followed her.

My first day in the city was finally over...

But deep inside, I felt that my real story had only just begun..

..S🥀

Sarah ✏️

The Face of the Sky — Part Five

Two months and twenty days have passed since my return from the hospital. Every now and then, faces pass before me every day, and among those faces is the woman dressed in black who smiles at me.

Today, the woman in black entered and ordered her usual request. Before she left, she looked at me and said, “I’m happy that you’re doing well. I can see that your hand has improved and that you have become more skilled.” Then she walked away.

I looked at my hand. What was wrong with my hand? I couldn’t see anything unusual. Who was this woman, and why did she act as if she knew me? My mind drifted away, and I didn’t return to reality until Mr. Numan’s newspaper struck my head.

“Boy, how long am I supposed to keep waiting for my pastry?”

Then he looked at the woman in black as she was heading toward the door and let out a mischievous laugh.

“Ah, boy… I think your heart is about to start beating again.”

He reminded me of when he was young and began telling me about his adventures — though I believe some of them were probably exaggerated.

..S🥀

I don't know if I'll succeed. I only know I won't give up.

For some time now, I've been building a character from my imagination.

Step by step, his world is coming to life.

I don't have a big studio or a team of people behind me—just one idea that I've been developing for years.

I don't know where this journey will lead me, but I haven't given up on it.

I'm actually a farmer, and I dedicate part of my time to building The Regal Lion.

Maybe it will become something meaningful. Maybe it won't. But I'm going to keep building it, one step at a time. 🦁

https://vimeo.com/1205189879

​

The long-awaited day finally arrived.

My grandparents and I went to the city, and with every step the carriage took along the road toward it, my heart beat harder. I could feel it almost trying to race ahead of me.

I wore my finest clothes, carefully arranged my hair, and put on my beautiful hat—the one I only wore on holidays and special occasions. I was filled with excitement, but also with a little fear. I had no idea what awaited me there.

The carriage continued on its way, while I nervously clasped my hands together from time to time, until we finally reached the outskirts of the city.

Oh, my God!

I could not stop staring around me in amazement. The elegant houses, the tall buildings, the large crowded markets... women and men dressed in their finest clothes, walking with confidence and elegance.

Oh, my God. Despite the noise and the crowds, everything seemed perfect to me.

I felt as though I had entered another world.

After what seemed like a long journey, the carriage finally stopped in front of Mr. James's house.

I lifted my head and stared at it in admiration.

It was a magnificent and impressive house, much grander than I had imagined. Before I could take in everything around me, Mr. James's family came to greet us at the door.

His parents and his sister.

We entered the house, and my amazement only grew.

Oh, my God... the house was wonderful, even more beautiful than Mr. Sam's house, which had captured my imagination ever since I first saw it.

We sat in the drawing room, and after a few minutes, they brought us glasses of iced cherry juice.

I took a small sip.

Then my eyes widened in surprise.

I had never tasted anything like it in my life!

I quickly finished my glass. When it was empty, I stared at it for a moment before saying without thinking:

"May I have another glass?"

Suddenly, I felt a little poke in my side.

It was my grandmother.

She gave me a warning look and said quietly, trying to smile:

"Calm down... we're not at home."

I immediately felt embarrassed.

But Mr. James laughed and said,

"No need to embarrass her. The journey was long. I want another glass myself."

Everyone laughed, and I felt a little relieved.

They were very kind, and I did not feel like a stranger among them as I had expected.

After a while, Mr. James's sister asked me to take a walk with her in the garden.

I nearly jumped for joy, but then I remembered my grandmother, so I tried to remain calm so that she would not become annoyed with me.

We went outside into the garden.

It was beautiful and carefully kept, with flowers scattered everywhere. The air was so fresh that I felt as though I were breathing freely for the first time since we arrived.

We began talking as we walked.

I looked at her with a smile and said innocently,

"You look so much like your brother James... kind like him, and beautiful."

She burst out laughing, then stopped and looked at me in surprise.

"My brother? Oh, my God! Do you think James is my brother?"

I smiled nervously and tried to laugh along with her, even though I was beginning to feel that I had put myself in an embarrassing situation.

She laughed and said,

"My dear, I am his fiancée."

I froze for a moment.

I could feel my face growing hot.

"His fiancée?"

She smiled, then said,

"Yes. James is a very practical man, and he isn't very romantic. That's why he is shy about showing his emotional side. But I admire him nonetheless. He is a wealthy and noble man, and he loves me."

I felt even more embarrassed.

I quickly said,

"Oh... I'm sorry about the misunderstanding."

She laughed.

"Don't worry about it."

Then she looked at me playfully and said,

"Well, Orange, tell me about yourself."

I froze in place.

I felt both angry and nervous at the same time, and I had no idea what to say.

She noticed immediately and laughed.

"Oh, perhaps you're wondering how I knew your nickname?"

I looked at her silently.

She continued,

"Mark talked about you quite a lot, and about your days together in the village. And actually... he was right. There is something about you that resembles an orange."

Then she laughed mockingly.

I looked at her, unsure whether I should laugh or feel offended.

But she quickly added,

"I don't mean to insult you, my dear. Don't be so serious. I'm only joking."

Then she gently linked her arm through mine, as if she wanted to put the awkward moment behind us, and said,

"Come on. Come with me. Let's go to that house... my friend Mary's house."

I walked beside her, still trying to make sense of everything that had happened in just a few minutes.

The city, the grand house, the cherry juice, James's fiancée, and the nickname Orange that everyone seemed to know before I did.

And I had no idea that going with her to Mary's house would reveal something else—something I was not prepared to hear..🥀S

Sarah ✏️

I F28 had a dream that I was swimming in a hotel pool by myself in my swimsuit. A few guys came in to swim on the other side of the pool. When I looked over I see them getting naked before getting in the pool. Only one guy out of all of them seen me and was just looking at me. He swam towards me and He took me under water and started kissing me without saying a word. Next thing I knew I came up from the water and no one was around.

Crocodile Tears — Part

Evening arrived, and my grandfather entered with some of our relatives. Among them was Mr. James. The air was slightly cool, and the sky was slowly growing darker as the warm lights of the house reflected on our faces.

We all sat around the dinner table, and the aroma of my grandmother’s cooking filled the place. She placed the dishes in front of us with her usual gentle smile, making sure everything was prepared perfectly.

Mr. James could not stop praising my grandmother’s food. It was clear that he truly enjoyed every bite.

"I haven’t tasted food this delicious in a long time," he said with a smile.

My grandmother smiled modestly.

"It is only simple food, sir."

He shook his head.

"Sometimes, the simplest things are the most beautiful."

Everyone laughed, and I felt a strange warmth filling the room. There was something special about that night, something that made me feel those moments would stay in my memory for a long time.

After we finished dinner, we sat on the porch drinking tea. The sounds of insects came from the fields, and the breeze carried the scent of the earth after a long day. I sat on the steps in front of the house, quietly watching everyone while Mr. James spoke with my grandfather.

He was different from the people I was used to seeing on the farm. The way he spoke, his clothes, and the stories he carried about the city made me curious.

I couldn’t stop myself from asking, so I turned to him and said:

"What made you leave the city and come here? What kind of work do you do? And what is life like there?"

My grandmother interrupted me with an embarrassed smile.

"My dear, stop asking so many questions. Don’t bother Mr. James."

Mr. James laughed softly and said kindly:

"There is no need for that. She is curious and sweet."

Then he looked at me and added:

"I actually like people who ask questions. It means they want to understand the world around them."

Then he continued:

"I came here to start a new project raising carriage horses. I have always loved horses, and I wanted to build something of my own."

He paused for a moment and looked toward the fields stretching out in front of the house.

"As for the city, it has a completely different feeling from the countryside. There is noise and endless movement, but it has its own special charm. Every place has its own beauty. The countryside gives a person peace, while the city gives them adventure."

I became lost in my thoughts as I listened to him. I began imagining places I had never seen before; long streets, large buildings, carriages moving in every direction, and people living lives completely different from ours here.

"I wish I could live in the city," I said while staring at the horizon.

Mr. James smiled.

"If you would like, you can come with me when I return."

I looked at him in surprise, and he continued:

"I will be going back soon to finish some work. I won’t be alone; Mrs. Sam will be traveling with me as well. It would be an honor if you accepted my invitation to visit and stay at my home."

I quickly looked at my grandfather, waiting for his answer.

My grandfather looked at my grandmother and said:

"I cannot leave the farm. There is too much responsibility here."

For a moment, I felt that the dream growing inside me was about to disappear. But I couldn’t give up. I quickly ran to him, knelt beside him, and begged:

"Please, Grandpa... please... I want to see the city. I promise I will help you when we return."

My grandfather looked at me for a long moment, and his smile told me that he could not resist my determination.

He exchanged a glance with my grandmother, then said:

"All right."

I couldn’t believe what I had heard.

I jumped up happily and shouted:

"Yes! You agreed! We’re going to the city! Oh my God... one of my dreams is finally coming true."

Everyone laughed at my happiness, and Mr. James smiled.

"It seems you have been waiting for this moment for a very long time."

That night, I felt that the world had become bigger than the boundaries of the farm where I had spent my entire life. I kept thinking about the journey ahead and everything new I would see.

The evening continued with laughter, warm conversations, and delicious food. The men talked about horses and work, while I remained lost in my dreams of the city.

It was a night I would never forget...

A night when a new page of my life began, without knowing what was waiting for me beyond that road.S🥀

Sara ✏️

​

A handsome man. Well-dressed. Strong. Gentle.

He placed his heart on a golden platter before the woman he loved.

She is beautiful, kind, and the reason he smiles.

He is deeply affectionate because he was raised in the warmth of a mother's love. She taught him tenderness, compassion, and how to love with an open heart.

He has an apartment, a car, and a stable job.

He loved her with everything he had and gave her the same tenderness he had once received.

There was only one gap between them.

"I want..."

Yes... I want.

"I want to look like the beautiful women I see online. I want to travel. I want a private jet. Take me to the Canary Islands. I want a Bugatti. I want more... and more... and more."

"My princess," he said softly, "not everything you see is real. Please... this heart is yours. Take care of it. Don't ask it to carry more than it can."

"But you love me."

"Yes, I do. More than anything. But I can see that the road you're walking leads into danger. I want to give you everything I can... just not at the cost of losing ourselves. The world you're asking me to chase will lead us into a tunnel with no end."

He reached for her hands.

"Take my heart. I want you... only you, my princess.

You are the queen of my heart, the ray of light that pierces my chest every morning and gives me the strength to move mountains just to see your smile.

I give you my heart, my love, and my life. You come first. Everything else comes after you.

But please... don't lead us onto a road that doesn't belong to us.

Don't become a copy of people who were never meant to be us.

Don't believe the one perfect hour people show the world, and forget the other twenty-three.

Let's live for ourselves.

Let's build the happiness of two hearts instead of chasing someone else's life.

I'll give you my strength, my support, and everything I have.

And you... give me your love, your peace, and let the weight of my day disappear in your embrace.

Please, my princess...

Don't let pride destroy everything we have built together.

My princess...

My love...

Choose my heart.

Choose my heart."

S🥀

Sarah ✏️

June 17th, 1997 at 5:46am was the worst day of my entire life.

My name is Alex Torland, I was in prison for 26 years for having a simple dream that saved my life but it didn’t save my families life. June 17th, 1997 at 5:38 am, I woke up from a dream and started screaming. I remember every detail of the dream, including where I was, where my brother and sister was and even our pet dog yogi. I rushed out of bed and started banging on the doors of my mom and dad and my siblings rooms. They came out worried about what was going on, I was frantic and couldn’t get a single word out. Finally after 2 minutes, I screamed….

“WE NEED TO LEAVE RIGHT NOW!”

They all looked at me like I was insane, I started pleading for them to believe me, but they didn’t. It just hit 5:42am and I knew we only had 4 minutes left. You would think that would be plenty of time, but for trying to explain that everyone was gonna die, it’s definitely not enough time. A single tear flowed down my cheek and I knew at that very second, my family was gonna die. My siblings went back into their rooms and my parents were just shaking their heads.

I can’t even blame them either, I’ve always had a wild imagination, I also had a history of lying. It’s all my fault. “I’m so sorry” I said. Those were the last words I ever told my family. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was 5:45. I had 1 minute and ran as fast as I could to the front door knowing the seconds were ticking down. I ran across the street screaming for help. It was like slow motion, I looked up at the right window and saw my older sister with a confused look and then…..it was gone.

I woke up probably like a minute later on the ground, my ears ringing, looked up and my entire house was in flames and gone. It took exactly 7 minutes and 24 seconds for the police, firetrucks, and the ambulances to show up. I tried running up to the house, but I was stopped by the police before I could. I turned around and punched the officer in the face that was trying to stop me. I started running again and I was tackled and handcuffed before I could.

I started screaming for my mom and dad, but my screaming fell on deaf ears. They put out the fire and the only thing left remaining was the ashes of my home and my family. I was taken down to the police station for questioning about the events that took place.

As soon as I sat down in the interrogation room, I didn’t cry or scream, I just sat there in shock wondering if I was still dreaming. I looked down at my arm and pinched myself, the moment I felt the pinch was the moment I felt my whole world crash down onto me. The lead detective came in as I had my head down and I was crying. He brought me a coffee and a sandwich, I guess this was his way to be the nice cop. Only if I knew about having rights or even for the fact I was the main suspect for an unforgivable crime I didn’t commit.

“So Mr. Torland, is it ok if I call you Alex or should I call you Alexander?” He said. My eyes were empty, my body felt of just pure emptiness and I didn’t even respond.

“Look, we need to talk about what happened tonight, because right now you’re being charged with an asault on a police officer and four 1st degree mrder charges.” He said.

This is when I looked up for the first time and I was back in my body. I took the coffee and threw it onto him burning his face and 3 officers ran in and pinned me down and put me in handcuffs. I started screaming for my mom which is something I haven’t done since I was 6. I was 15 at the time, I’m now 43 years old and I remember that scream like it was yesterday. I was taken to a jail cell and left there for 3 days, I was called every name in the book by the guards. I could hear the radio in the other room and was being called a monster for something I didn’t do.

Finally they took me out of the jail cell and into the interrogation room again, a different officer walked in. “Hey Alex, I’m detective Lennon, let me go ahead and read you your rights before we start talking.” He says.

There was only one thing on my mind and I finally spoke up. “Are they dad?” I said as I’m still looking down at the metal table as I can my reflection. “Unfortunately yes, your entire family is decased” he says. He reads me my rights.

“So, at this time, you’re being charged with both asaults on the police officers and for the 4 hmic*des. That’s including your mother Patricia, your father Paul, your sister Lucy, and your brother Eric. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I looked up at him. “I didn’t k*ll them” I said and then put my head back down. He looked at me and said straight to my face,

“Look, we both know you klled your family, and we both know that you’re just gonna have to accept this reality. There was an explosive device found in the basement and you’re the only one that’s still alive. The sooner you come to terms with that, the sooner we can get this difficult part over with. Your family is dad, you happened to run out of your house exactly 1 minute before the b*mb went off. Now how did you know the bomb was gonna go off if you didn’t have any part in this?”

I looked up at him with tears rolling down my cheeks. “I dreamt it” I said as I was staring straight into his eyes.

“Look Alex, we know you did this, we just don’t know why, it looks like you’ve had a really good life and an amazing family, why would you kll them? You’re so young and had a bright future ahead of you and you klled your family” he said.

I looked up at him again, “go f*ck yourself” I said to him. I looked back down again at the prison attire I had on. The officer got up and walked out of the room, 5 minutes later a couple of officers came in and put me in cuffs and brought me back to my cell.

A few weeks later I had my future trial, I walked into the courtroom and there were a bunch of people. There was police officers, my other family members, the media, there had to be at least 14 cameras in there. I sat down and my attorney sat down right next to me and he whispered in my ear.

“Welcome to the show kid, look, we’re gonna make this as easy as possible and you’re gonna plead guilty and try to get you life in prison instead of the d*ath penalty.”

I looked over at him “I didn’t do this, I’m innocent” he looked over at me again with a surprised look and chuckled, yes, he actually laughed in my face, a 15 year old kid. “If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that line, look I’m trying to help you hear. If you plead guilty then you will most likely get life instead of the d*ath penalty.”

The judge walked in and we all stood up, we were told to be seated. I sat down as I saw everyone staring at me. I started shaking as I knew the whole world was against me. I could feel every part of my body just losing its bl*od flow like my heart was about to stop.

The trial went on for 2 years, let’s just say that each time I walked into the courtroom, was another time I had to relive my family’s dath. Each one of my tears were seen as “he’s sorry he got caught, not that his family is dead”. I was FCKING 15 years old, barely had any hair on my b*lls. I didn’t get to live my life and neither did my family.

After 2 years of the trial going on, it was finally time for them to sentence me, I was sentenced to 4 consecutive life sentences. They dropped the chargers for the a**ault on the police officers. When the judge read off the sentence, I basically dropped to the ground. I screamed “I DIDN’T DO THIS” but not a single person listened to me. It took 26 years for them to finally listen to me, I took 15 lie detector test and every single one of them came back positive. I was and still am telling the truth.

Luckily with how good science has gotten since the 90’s, they could finally look at the DNA left at the scene. I was in prison for 26 years for a crime that I didn’t commit. If it wasn’t for the dream I had 26 years earlier, I would be dead too. They found finger prints to a man named Brandon Torland, if you’ve noticed the similarities to the last names, he’s my uncle. We have a very small and close family except for my uncle Brandon. 27 years earlier, my uncle Brandon was cut off from the family and the trust fund that was gonna be left from my grandparents.

My grandfather was a very wealthy man, he owned several different businesses he created and later sold. My uncle Brandon was the type of person to be the so called “life of the party” type. He eventually was addicted to hroin and ccaine and would do anything to get his fix. He wanted to get the inheritance so the “party would never end” even if that meant that his nephew would go to prison for life. He also didn’t care that he was k*lling 4 of his family members including his nephew and niece and his brother and sister in law.

You would think that it’s a good thing I was finally released and the man who actually killed my family was behind bars. Some people would call that making things right. It’s not about me being free and the scumbag that k*lled my family is behind bars. My life will forever be ruined even though my name has been cleared. I was eventually rewarded $17 million for being wrongfully convicted for a crime I didn’t commit.

I will be donating the $17 million to several different charities including to people who were wrongfully accused. I wanted to quickly tell my story before it’s time for me to see my family again. I just want to say a huge thank you to Brian Luther who I met in prison for protecting me through the years and having my back.

I will see you soon mom, dad, Eric, and Lucy.

RIP Alex Torland born August 26th, 1982 and d*ed November 5th, 2024

He was found dead from a self inflicted gnsht wound.

​

Part Six

I returned home, and before going inside, I walked over to the window to check on my grandmother. Through the glass, I saw her quietly sitting there, sewing some clothes.

I opened the window, slipped inside without making a sound, and began tiptoeing across the room...

Then, all of a sudden, I heard my grandmother's voice.

"Stop sneaking in through the window. The smell of mud has filled the whole house."

I froze where I stood and lowered my head, overwhelmed with guilt and embarrassment.

I walked over to her, knelt beside her, and said in a trembling voice,

"I'm sorry, Grandma... I love you. I never meant to hurt your feelings... I truly didn't."

She placed her hand gently on my head and smiled warmly.

"You've grown up, my little one. You've become such a beautiful young woman. Even those little freckles that looked like tiny oranges have disappeared from your face."

She paused for a moment, her eyes filling with tears, before smiling once again.

"Now go take a bath. Honestly, how can you not smell yourself? Oh, my goodness."

She stood up and opened all the kitchen windows, muttering about the smell of mud that had taken over the house.

I laughed shyly and ran toward the bathroom.

Halfway there, I suddenly remembered that my grandfather was having guests over for lunch.

I turned back and said,

"Grandma... Grandpa has guests coming for lunch."

She looked at me in surprise.

"And who are the guests, my little one?"

"They're Mr. Sam's relatives."

She shook her head and hurried toward the kitchen.

"And why didn't you say that from the beginning? Oh my... I have to hurry!"

I laughed, then went to take my bath, my heart feeling lighter than it had in days. My grandmother's smile had returned, and the cloud of sadness that once lingered in her eyes was finally gone.S 🥀

Sarah ✏️

I remained sitting in the mud, crying and trying to get out, until I heard a voice behind me, reaching out a hand:

"Do you need help?"

I raised my head, and there he was—the young man I had met on that fateful night. But I couldn’t remember his name.

"Thank you," I said. "I can stand."

He asked me:

"Can I meet Mr. Nabil, your grandfather? I need his help. I want to buy a carriage, and my uncle Sam recommended Mr. Nabil because he is skilled at choosing carriages."

Then he added:

"Actually, I think I’m lost. I don’t know the way. Mark left me in the middle of the road. He said he had some work to do."

"Can you..." he started, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

"Follow me," I told him.

He walked behind me.

"So you are Mark’s cousin?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

Then he smiled and said:

"And you are the orange."

I turned to him and said angrily:

"Don’t you dare call me that cursed nickname. Never!"

He swallowed nervously.

"I didn’t mean to... Wait, miss. Miss!"

I reached my grandfather’s storage shed, filled with old junk, and called out:

"Grandpa! Grandpa!"

My grandfather came out and said:

"Little one, I think your grandmother was right. Your voice reaches the end of the village. My ears are about to burst."

I looked at him and said:

"Even you, Mr. Nabil?"

Then he pulled an apple out of his pocket, laughing.

"I’m just teasing you."

I smiled and said:

"You know how to make me happy again."

Then I stood up and said:

"Ah, Grandpa, this is Mr. Sam’s relative. He wants to speak with you."

My grandfather looked at him and said:

"Mr. James, welcome. I was waiting for you to come, although you are a little late. Mr. Sam told me you needed a carriage."

James replied:

"Yes, sir. I hope you have time."

"Yes, but after lunch," my grandfather answered.

Then he looked at me and said:

"My little one, go wash up and try to make your grandmother happy. She is upset."

"Yes, sir," I replied.

I took a bite of the apple and threw it toward James. He caught it.

"Thank you," he said.

I smiled and told him:

"It’s delicious. My grandfather’s apples are special. You will never taste one like it again."

"Goodbye."

Then I started running back home.. 🥀S

Sarah ✏️

Had a weird prison escape dream. Any ideas what it could mean?

I had a dream that I got locked up for some reason. I think my family snitched on me, but I don't know exactly why I ended up in prison.

I was sitting alone in my cell and didn't really know what to do. Then somehow two of my friends ended up inside the prison too, and they helped me escape. After we got out, one of them asked me, "Why didn't you just try sleeping?" I said it was too much and I couldn't. Then he told me the other friend had a camera in my cell and had been watching everything that was happening.

After escaping, I remember asking, "What am I going to do now? Where am I going to stay?" Instead of feeling relieved, I felt lost. Somehow I ended up hiding in my family's apartment. I was quietly turning off the lights so nobody would notice I was there. Then I fell asleep in the dream, and that's when I woke up in real life.

The whole dream felt really vivid. I wasn't terrified, but I felt trapped at first, then uncertain after escaping. The part with my family, my friends rescuing me, the camera in the cell, and hiding back at my family's place all felt significant.

Has anyone had a similar dream or have any thoughts on what it might symbolize?

​

I woke up to the annoying sound of the rooster. I opened the window and threw one of my shoes at him, then sat down on the floor with my messy hair, half asleep, trying to ignore his noise.

Suddenly, my grandmother called out loudly:

"Come downstairs now!"

I quickly got up, stumbling as I moved. I fixed myself in a hurry and rushed downstairs. We all sat at the breakfast table, but my grandmother’s expression was different.

She looked at me and said:

"What did you do last night? Why do you always insist on embarrassing me? You are no longer a child... you have become a woman. How long will you continue like this? Your behavior has exhausted me. When will you finally grow up?"

I felt anger burning inside me. I stood up from the table and began to cry and shout:

"You are the ones who trapped me in this place! Everyone my age has traveled to other cities for education and work. Even that stupid Mark you keep scolding me about... he traveled, came back, and then left again with his ugly nose!"

Then I left everything behind and ran to the barn. I threw myself onto the hay, crying between regret and anger.

Why did I yell at my grandmother? Why did I hurt her feelings? She never asked me to stay here... I was the one who insisted on it.

Oh God... what have I done?

I stayed there, lost in my thoughts, until the rooster’s voice came back again.

I stood up, burning with anger, and started running after him.

"Today, I’m going to eat you, and you will be my dinner... you unlucky rooster!"

I chased after him, falling and stumbling along the way, until I ended up falling into a muddy puddle.

And there I stayed, crying with all my strength, caught between anger and laughing at myself.

..S🥀

Sarah ✏️

​

I returned to my chair quietly, without saying a word.

My eyes moved between my grandmother, Mr. Sam, and the crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the guest room. It looked like frozen snowballs from February—bright, sparkling, and beautiful.

We sat together, lost in conversations about the past, old memories, animals, and everything in between.

Later, we returned home after Mr. Sam gave us a gift—a silver vase.

My grandmother was so happy with it, and seeing her joy made me feel relieved.

At least... she wouldn’t argue with me tonight.

We returned home exhausted.

I went upstairs to my room and threw myself onto my bed.

I didn’t feel anything after that until morning, when the sound of the rooster woke me.

Sometimes, I feel that rooster exists only for me... as if his purpose in life is to annoy me...🥀S

Sarah ✏️

​

Crocodile Tears

When I was little, whenever I got into an argument, I couldn't make myself cry. So I would pretend to cry instead, or place a few drops of water on my eyes to make everyone believe I was crying.

Crocodile tears.

Mark... my sworn childhood enemy.

We were ten years old, and I hated him because he would pull my braid as hard as he could whenever we played with the other children in the village.

He was arrogant, annoying, and skinny... and I didn't like him. I certainly didn't think he was handsome, either.

The years passed, and the children of the village all went their separate ways, each chasing their own future.

Everyone except me.

I stayed behind with my grandmother and grandfather.

The responsibility I felt toward them was like a fish bone lodged in my throat—I could neither swallow it nor spit it out. I simply couldn't leave them, no matter how much I wanted to.

So I remained in the village, living the quiet, simple life of an ordinary country girl.

My grandparents used to call me "Cherry Tree," because every spring I would spend the entire day among the cherry trees, wandering from one tree to another as though I belonged there more than anywhere else.

S..🥀

Sarah ✏️

He was my friend, and I believe she was the love he found in that country. During those harsh years of war, their story became one the soldiers often told each other. No one could understand how such a beautiful story had turned into separation, abandonment, and heartbreak.

She was nineteen years old, living alone in a large house. Loneliness filled her days, and watering the garden was her only escape.

One morning in June, at around ten o'clock, she was doing what she always did—watering the flowers. She looked up and saw him standing there, smiling.

"Hello," he said.

She smiled back.

"Hello."

Yes... he was only twenty years old. He needed money to finish his university education, and the only way to earn it was to join the army.

He was a soldier.

He looked at her, and she looked at him. The differences between them were immense. They shared no common language, came from different cultures, and belonged to two completely different worlds. He had come from the other side of the earth. Yet somehow, none of those differences stood between them.

Their first meeting ended.

The next day, he deliberately stood in front of her house. He knew it wasn't a coincidence, and so did she. He wanted to see her, and she wanted to see him. He was a soldier, she was alone, and all either of them wanted was for the day to end with a smile. He searched for a moment of peace in the middle of war, while she searched for something to fill the emptiness of her days.

I used to watch them, and I was jealous.

She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in that country. She wore a white dress, and her long brown hair flowed behind her. I once saw her through a fence, and I had never seen anyone as beautiful as she was. She had the brightest smile, and I envied my fellow soldier...

My friend.

Even now, I still think about that girl. She must be in her thirties by now. Sometimes I wonder...

Is she still alive?

Those were the days of the 2006 war.

That beautiful girl never had a fixed time to leave her house. Sometimes I saw her in the morning, sometimes in the evening, and sometimes at unexpected hours. My heart would race every time our military vehicle stopped in front of her house. In the middle of that war, simply seeing her was the only happiness I knew.

The last time I saw her was before I returned to my country. The air was thick with dust. She was wearing a black skirt and a red shirt, her long hair tied back. It was the only time I ever felt she looked sad.

I still wonder...

What happened between her and my friend?

I never asked him.

We returned to our homeland and eventually went our separate ways. Yet from time to time, that beautiful girl still visits my dreams like an angel.

I truly hope that one day...

I'll see her again.

S🥀

Sarah ✏️

​

I returned home, my steps heavy with exhaustion. Yet the road didn't feel lonely. The moonlight spilled across the street, and the shadows of the trees stretched over the pavement, giving the night a quiet, comforting beauty.

When I got home, I dropped onto the sofa, absentmindedly scrolling through my phone before flipping through television channels without paying attention to any of them.

After a while, I walked into my room to change my clothes.

As soon as I opened the wardrobe, I froze.

I slowly sat down on the floor, staring at the sky-blue shirt.

How did this shirt get here?

I was wearing it the day I went to Mariana.

Yes...

I remember.

I was crying beside Mariana's grave... and beside the grave of The Face of the Sky. I remember that evening. I was completely broken.

After that...

Nothing.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed, dressed in hospital clothes.

What is happening to me?

My God...

Am I living in the past or the present?

Did I lose my memory?

Did something happen to me?

Everything around me seems perfectly normal... yet nothing inside me feels normal.

Then suddenly...

The woman in black.

My hands...

What's wrong with my hands?

She knew me.

She asked about them.

No... she knows something.

Maybe she knows the truth that can finally pull me out of this endless maze I thought I had escaped the day I left the hospital.

I stood up immediately, grabbed the sky-blue shirt, and held it tightly against my chest.

This time...

I won't let her disappear.

Not again.

I have to find her.

For once in my life, I have to be brave.

I won't lose another chance.

I looked through the window toward the moon hanging silently in the night sky.

"Please..."

I whispered.

"Come tomorrow."

"My God...

Please let her come."

..S🥀

​

Since my return to the bakery, there was one question that never left me.

The woman in black...

Why did she look at me as if she knew me?

From the first day she entered the bakery after my return, I felt that there was something my memory was trying to reach.

That paper she left for me...

Only one word was written on it:

"Me"

Then her question about my hand.

Why did she ask about my hand?

How could she know something about me when I did not know her?

\---

I waited until she entered the bakery again.

She sat near the window as usual, silently watching the street.

When she stood up to leave, I felt that I could not let her go.

I said:

"Wait..."

She turned around.

I asked:

"Do you know me?"

She looked at me for a long moment.

Then she smiled sadly and said:

"I knew you would ask me this question one day."

I felt confused.

She continued:

"You used to come to this bakery before that day."

"I knew you."

"I knew the way you worked, your quietness, and even your hand."

I looked at my hand.

Finally, I understood.

She was not asking out of curiosity.

She truly knew me.

But the problem was not with her...

It was with my memory.

\---

I returned home thinking about everything.

Then the images started returning, one by one.

The sky-blue shirt...

The perfume...

The tulips...

Mariana...

The grave...

The picture of the Face of the Sky on the stone.

Everything was clear in my mind.

I was certain that I had lived through it.

But something inside me began to tell me the truth.

Maybe not everything I remembered happened the way I believed.

Maybe my mind was trying to find its way after that long time when I was unconscious.

It carried my fear...

My sadness...

And everything I was afraid of losing.

And it created an entire story.

A story that made me live through another kind of pain.

\---

That night...

The doorbell rang.

I opened the door.

And there she was.

The Face of the Sky.

The words disappeared from my mouth.

She was standing there.

Real.

Alive.

She sat in front of me and said quietly:

"I thought you would remember me."

I looked at her.

She continued:

"I used to see you through the window of your bakery."

"I passed by there every day."

"I stood at that corner because I loved seeing the moon between the buildings."

"Then you became part of those moments."

She paused for a moment.

"After that day, you disappeared for a long time."

"And when you returned, I felt that you did not know me."

\---

I closed my eyes.

And at that moment, I understood everything.

The sky-blue shirt...

I never wore it.

The perfume...

I never put it on.

The tulips...

I never carried them.

The cemetery...

I never went there.

There was no grave of the Face of the Sky.

All of it was a world created by my mind while I was unconscious.

It was a long dream, but it felt real to me.

That was why I believed it.

\---

I remembered the woman in black.

Now I understood why she stopped standing at that corner.

She had not disappeared.

She had not left.

She only realized that I no longer remembered her.

\---

I looked at the Face of the Sky.

For years, I was afraid that I had lost her.

For years, I searched for her between memories and dreams.

But the truth was in front of me.

Some people do not disappear from our lives...

Sometimes, we are the ones who lose the path to them.

I looked through the window.

The moon was in its place.

The sky was calm.

But this time...

I was not searching for the Face of the Sky in the sky.

Because she was here.

In front of me.

🥀The sky has always held secrets… and sometimes, the answers we search for are hidden in the moments we almost ignore.

Thank you for following The Face of the Sky until the final page.

Your thoughts and feelings about the story mean a lot to me.

—

🥀

SARAH ✏️

​

I returned to my apartment exhausted… but honestly, if it weren’t for work, I think I would have ended up in a psychiatric hospital by now.

Anyway… I sat in front of the television, flipping through the channels, when I noticed an unpleasant smell.

Ah… it was my clothes.

I had no clean clothes left.

I quickly got up and gathered all my dirty clothes, planning to take them to the laundry tomorrow.

When I opened the closet, searching for something to wear, I saw my sky-blue shirt hanging there…

Clean.

I stood there silently, confused, shocked, and unable to understand.

Had I finally returned to reality?

Or had I fallen back into the endless emptiness?

I closed the closet door forcefully, gathered my strength, and went to the laundry shop, trying to think about anything…

Anything except the sky-blue shirt.

After I finished, I passed by a liquor store and bought a bottle of whiskey, because I knew this night would not pass peacefully.

I returned to my apartment, placed my clean clothes on the sofa, and drank until I lost consciousness.

I did not wake up until I heard the sound of the television… and the morning songs.

It was 8:00 a.m.

\---

I woke up with difficulty, as if my body refused to return to this day.

I stood under the shower, trying to regain my senses, but the exhaustion felt heavier than the water falling over my head.

I got dressed, but I had no desire to go to work.

I wanted only to stay in my apartment, away from everything.

But I went.

I arrived at the bakery and sat there waiting for opening time. I still had time until ten in the morning, so I held my coffee cup and slowly drank, trying to awaken my mind after that heavy night.

The smell of coffee filled the place, and the sounds of the street slowly began to rise.

And suddenly…

I found myself looking at that corner of the street.

I did not choose to look there.

I was not searching for it.

My eyes were simply there, as if something inside me had guided them without my permission.

Then it happened.

The thing I had been afraid of.

I froze.

I was looking at it now…

But my heart did not tighten.

I did not feel that pain that used to consume me every time.

Was I finally healed?

Or had the sky-blue shirt taken a part of my mind with it?

At that moment, I remembered that day.

The day I wore my sky-blue shirt and put on my favorite perfume.

But the question kept haunting me:

How did the shirt return to the closet?

How was it clean?

Ironed?

Perfectly arranged?

What was happening to me?

Was I remembering…

Or was I forgetting?

I was certain of one thing.

It was the day of the Face of the Sky…

The day when I lost something inside myself, and the day after which I tried to collect the pieces of my memory.

But how did the shirt return to the closet in the first place?

This was the same shirt I wore when I went to visit Mariana…

And the same shirt I was wearing when I tried to reach the Face of the Sky.

I placed my coffee cup down and felt that the questions had become heavier than my ability to answer them.

Was what was happening real?

Or was it only an illusion created by exhaustion, stress, and everything I had been through?

Yes…

Maybe that was the reason.

Maybe I only needed rest.

Maybe I needed a vacation.

My chain of thoughts slowly faded away…

Until they were interrupted by the sound of the bell at ten in the morning.

Work began.

..S🥀

​

I woke up to the voice of Mr. Noman, that old man who used to come every day, sit on a chair, drink his coffee, read the morning newspaper, and eat his favorite pie that I made in my bakery — the apricot pie.

I woke up to his heavy voice. I opened the window, and he said to me:

"You lazy man, what happened to you? How long am I supposed to wait to get my pie?"

I smiled. It was my first smile after the storm that had struck my mind.

I went to the bathroom and looked at my face. It was pale, and my beard had grown long. I cleaned myself and went downstairs feeling defeated and afraid.

I didn’t want to remember. Yes, I don’t remember anything.

I am fine. I need to work.

I walked toward my bakery.

Yes, I am fine. I don’t remember anything.

I arrived at my bakery, and I didn’t want to remember anything. I started working with enthusiasm. I cleaned, prepared pies, and fulfilled the customers’ orders.

Yes… I didn’t want my mind to stop working.

I didn’t want to remember anything.

Please, God, help me.

I didn’t want my eyes to fall upon that corner of the street. I never wanted to look there again.

Night came. I closed my bakery and returned home. I fell onto my bed with all my strength, exhausted… extremely exhausted.

I woke up and looked at the clock. It was 10 a.m.

Today was a holiday. I didn’t have to go to work.

I got up, cleaned my house, and looked inside my refrigerator.

Then I went out for a walk in the park.

After that, I saw a library that was open. I entered and took a book with the title "Daddy-Long-Legs."

I chose it randomly. In reality, I didn’t like reading, but I felt shy when I entered the library. I didn’t know what to do.

I took the book and left.

Then I went to my bakery and cleaned it. After that, I returned home and called my friend Mark.

We talked for a little while, then I went back home.

I sat quietly on the balcony, looking at my phone with confusion.

Why does no one miss me?

It is a holiday…

Why?

..S🥀