The Eternal Doom

CHAPTER 6, Mexico

Awakening from the memory, Lester stepped inside in the lobby, where the silence seemed to hide the voices of the immortals who were cheering their immortal life in the night, intending TO PRAISE GOD for his legendary mercy. He descended the stairs, which led him into semi-darkness, as the dim light of the moon was entering through the window, and the light with silent whispers of the cold wind was merging in. He beckoned close to the window, and started to gaze at the hazy street, where no more immortals were walking over, just the shadows of short trees which were bending over the street; and sometimes they started to dance, as the light gust of breeze swatted the dark branches. 

He heard a deafening sound of raspy melody coming in the silence, when he jutted out from the room and opened the door of Amy's room, where he found Amy awake, sitting near to the window, with the raspy melody going on in the darkroom hit by the same light of the moon. He stood there in the doorway glancing at her, as she was sitting at the edge of the window. The wind seemed to play with her black hair as it covered her waist, scattered all around her back, lost in the deep sound of the raspy melody, the moonlight hitting her face, revealing her sadness. It seemed as if a dark butterfly were sitting in front of the moon. She was looking weird, yet kind of fragile, as always since her childhood. She was a different girl. Her friends used to call her weirdo, as shemostly lived in the silence, listening to the death maiden playing her black violin, and that was what made her more special, for Lester knew that she thought more deeply than any other girl, writing dark lyrics about death, as she had always been suspicious about death and life – or maybe the tragedies matured her thoughts, like an angel writing for the world. Playing alone in the deserted places fascinated her, as she always said that no one could never know how it seemed to play with your own soul. Standing quietly in the doorway, watching Amy, who was truly unaware of his presence, he finally reached her, sitting opposite her in the window. The raspy music was going on; in fact, it was the only sound they both were hearing. Now it seemed as if the memories had captured them both in their silence, watching the off-white box of leather. It seemed so old there, the oak key was circling slightly, playing the melody. Amy's eyes were stuck on the thin ballerina figure over the box, as she was dancing, circling, round and round with the melody, even though the melody was very sad and raspy, as it seems to consume all the hidden sadness of the world inside it; yet so calm that Amy feared it wouldn't play again, as it was so old, more than twenty-four years old. At the same date she was born, her father bought it for her, but the box became consumed with memory inside, instead of jewelry; and since that day they had been keeping it as a box of memory, with the ballerina of sadness dancing along with the melody of sorrow. Sometimes, in the night, Amy sat hearing the melody. It seemed as if it wasn't just a melody, it was something played by some sad angels for the forbidden world of immortals. She tried to find more boxes, and she found more beautiful boxes than this, as it was just an ordinary box, covered with faded white leather, with the drawing of a child-like flower fairy over it: the ordinary wings, the faded green shrubs of grass, and a few dull-white old flowers. But the thing was that she didn't find any box with a melody like this. The moon was soothing the ballerina, as she kept on circling in the same stiff posture; but her small tiny shadow seemed more real than the ballerina itself. It fascinated them both, the way shadows of it were dancing in the moonlight, revolving round and round the gust of knifing wind flowing by the melody; and then the silence prevailed, as the melody finally stopped.

They both sat so silently without saying any words to each other. The moon seemed to whisper out in the immortal night. "I'm so sorry, Amy, that now you have to live here in Mexico. I know you left your dreams in Greece. You built your world there," Lester said in a grave voice, filled with disappointment.