Fractal Sea

Day 3

Like puppets on a string, they twirl on the stage.

Under the guide of the puppetmaster, they flaunt beautifully.

They aren't even aware that their dance does not belong to them.

Their consciousness, their movements, their expressions.

All of them are merely the extension of the puppetmaster's.

Today I found myself writing words I don't understand again. Ever since I found that book, my fixation towards writing seems to be heightened. Father sure seems happy to see his daughter to be so intent in learning to write, but I don't feel like it's a "desire" that drove me this far. It's more like I feel the "need" to write, as if something I can't see is pushing me to keep writing. It's holding my hand, and kept my gaze onto the paper on the table. I can't seem to stop writing these passages onto the paper sheet. And somehow, even after hours of writing, I don't seem to get tired. I wasn't even aware of my surroundings. I can't tell when something is hapening, nor can I hear them. It's like I entered another world entirely.

Write.

Write.

Write.

Write.

I want to stop, and get some snacks to eat. It must've been hours since I took breakfast, and I haven't eaten anything. But even as I wanted to stop writing, my hands just won't obey me. It kept writing and writing, without a single sign of stopping. I can't move my body outside of those I use to write. I can't even open my mouth to say anything. Sweat starts to drop from my face to the paper under it, but they dried immediately, as if whatever this thing holding me prevents me to stain its masterpiece.

Stop this.

Stop this.

Stop.

Please.

"Mika?"

A surge of emotions overcame me as a voice called out behind me, and my shoulder felt a touch. It's like I've been electrocuted, and all my senses flare up all at once. But all that tense died down as soon as I recognize that voice. It's father.

"Oh, father! Welcome home!"

"Yeah, I'm home early today. The market was empty because there's a downpour. I ended up not selling anything today."
"Aww, that's a shame. I was looking forward to eating chicken today like you promised this morning..."
"Don't worry, I found this crate full of canned food on the beach just before I left. We'll have a lot of food to last for a while. How about we inspect each of them to see if we'll find a canned chicken?"
"Yay! That'd be great! Then let's do it!"

And as if nothing had happened, I put the pen down put on my sandals so I can inspect the cans with father outside.

Come to think of it, what DID happen today? I can't even remember what I did other than writing. Or have I just been writing this whole morning until father came home? Before I leave, I look back towards the fridge. There are snack packages laying in front of it.

But, I ate nothing since breakfast, didn't I? So who ate those?

"By the way, father?" I said as I walked with father to his bike. Father's bike had been modified to have a truck cart behind it, so it can carry many things at once. I remember I used to ride with father inside it. While father takes the steering wheel outside, I'm inside the cart with its windows open. Nowadays, not so much, because I started to prefer writing than coming along with him. Weird, I used to love traveling with him. Is this what it's like to grow up?

"Yes, Mika?"

"I wasn't paying attention. What hour is it right now?"

"It's 13PM in the afternoon, why?"

"Ah, nothing. Like I said, I just wasn't looking at the clock."

13PM? I took breakfast at 6AM, that would mean my stomach has been empty for 7 hours long. And yet those snacks in front of the fridge are there, so clearly someone's been eating. I really shouldn't think too much of it. Maybe I just forgot.

Yeah, that's all, I just forgot.

Nothing much to it.