The Time Creates Illusion

Living a life of normality will always lead to a change. At some point, it will occur somewhere in the thoughts of a lighthearted daydream or beloved procrastination, in the dark shadows of the night or in the enchanting glow of stars. It will always remain magnetising, the mystery that the future possesses. By knowing that even the hope might be an illusion, the time stets it apart with reality and determines whether the physical form of gift from the universe will be identical to the emptiness of those things or events dreamt of. However, does time determine reality or does it only create an illusion of life?

Mr. Gary Williams could be identified as just another common, middle-aged man who was constantly being chased by horrible back pains, loss of colour pigment in the hair and fragility to sicknesses. The autumn of life has now been his present. As any other possible Gary Williams in the infinity of universe, he has raised children, who as any other matured individuals, decided to leave the family nest and fly through the sky of life. Mrs. Anne Williams was also any other well-respected lady as a wife of her common husband. She was the dearest flower of his, whose presence he would enjoy every single morning, even if her gentle petals have already started falling. Still, in his warming eyes she never stop blossoming. A beautiful, typical family could be met on every corner of the stuffed grayness of NYC and would melt the hearts of those whose feelings haven’t yet been touched with such a perfect representation of love.

Mr. William’s mind was never alive within the loud and annoying cars and their ability to poison every breath he took. Neither did he enjoy the endless, cloudy canvas which covered his head and didn’t let his spirit live. Hence, he found his intellectual canvas in books. An infinite tonne of books, diaries, letters, articles which all differed in their natures, yet were identical in the blackness of the printed or handwritten letters on the yellowish oldness of paper. The ancient touch to the history which they possessed was what gave birth and life to Mr. William’s spirit of a hopeless historical discoverer and investigator. He was a history professor of human and social studies, as well as a writer at heart. Expectable, isn’t it.

However, the content of his spills of creativity, written or mentally spoken monologues carries no importance here as all we want to see is what could happen, what could turn around such a peaceful life of Mr. Gary Williams…

Wetness. Grayness. Mournfulness. All these created the unbearable heaviness in the atmosphere of the present human energy. Tears, silent cries. A prayer for the well-being of the soul muttered by the dry lips of the priest. His coat of a deep, black colour clearly reflected the state of the man standing on the other side, who seemed more dead than any corpse, yet alive just enough to keep tolerating the emotional torture of his heart. The saltiness of a man’s tear is infinitely valuable, as it pushes through the obstacle of being swallowed and never let out. But what is the point of a tear if it would never return the laughter of a loved woman? What is the point if she can no longer cry from happiness? What is the point if his flower would never again enhance their love with the softness of her laughter, which sounded just like the bells of their first son’s musical toy. Why can’t time be merciful just for once and turn itself around..

“I wish this was all an illusion surrounding me, a dream I will wake up from right now,” thought silently Mr. Williams as he laid the bouquet of pink roses on the white, marble coffin in which lay the mother, the Empress of all the flowers in the world. In which lay the woman of his life.

Suddenly, the corner of his eye has caught a shadow, swaying so swiftly just a few meters away, whose sweet smell was almost unreachable under the drizzling rain. As the closest friends and loyal companions started to slowly flee away into distance, Mr. Williams turned completely and met the eyes of a silhouette. The deep blue of the ocean and the bright, golden patterns reflected his soul, together with the fear and inability to understand for what reason these jewels seemed so familiar.

It was a woman way shorter than a man of a petite build, just like the doll Gary gave to his daughter on her 8th birthday. The human replica was dressed in completely black, but the curves of her lacy dress highlighted her delicate and slender body. Her hair was long and as dark as the dress itself, making it seem as one cloak under which she hid from all the dangers of this world. She seemed like a woman that provoked the wish to protect, the one you would compose tango melodies about, and the one that tasted just as pleasantly intoxicating as a sweet, red wine.

The endless glare was now suddenly interrupted. Gary was trying to understand for what reason was he pulled so much to this delicate creation of the Gods as then he saw another silhouette right behind her. A man, of course. Her knight, the one who has the entrance inside the protective cloak and safeguards her too.

Another shift in thoughts. The loss of his mind in that person’s analysis was forcefully pushed away by the letters written on a small gravestone right beside all its clones.

‘Henry Williams : 1896–1903. A beloved husband and friend.’ Gary looked to the left, puzzled by the fact that the woman was standing right next to him, clenching onto his suit and pouring her soft tears onto the moist soil.

“Jesus..” he thought. “She is as beautiful as a tear of a child.’

Only then Gary understood all the bizarre nature of the situation, and the fact that he was standing right next to the woman he could not stop staring at. What he thought is that the surname on the gravestone was the same as his, even the first name was the one he always dreamt of calling his newborn with, but never managed to win over a woman’s stubbornness. He had to go, or otherwise he would collapse under the weight of all the unexplainable things that happened in a course of half an hour.

He returned back to the emptiness of his flat, that now was teasing him with the scents of Anne’s perfumes, of the bed cloths they have just been sleeping on, of her elegant and feminine dresses in the wooden wardrobe. His only escape was to start the daily routine, just as before, before any change. It filled up the silence of the white walls in the cabinet, it replaced the absence of the smile of his dearest human being. However, it could never make his weeping heart silent.

Interestingly, Mr. Williams started to gain success in his personal world. The details of the human past and the clarity of all the events he would always miss out were now swimming up to the surface as he crookedly wrote in his diary. Now, it felt as though he was there and witnessed everything with his own eyes, his own soul.

However, he wouldn’t stop having nightmares. He couldn’t ever differentiate whether these were sweet glimpses of his subconscious past or horrifying creations of imagination. That woman, those contrasting eyes of blue and gold always returned to the flow of his thoughts, making him visualise a life he has never known, but forced him to think that he does remember. Another dream. As Mr. Williams turned off the light of the table lamp and covered himself in the heavy blanket, his eyes started to slowly close, resembling the way he pictured his death is going to be like, as the time would tick away its last seconds. Then, he fell into someone else’s reality, where he was playing the role of this someone else.

A father of a small boy, a professor of History of Arts in a rather prestigious institute which slightly made the real Gary Williams jealous as he wasn’t able to reach such a high professional level in reality. Nevertheless, that man lived for the eyes. Those same, cat-shaped eyes of deep blue and bright gold. They reflected all the happiness of his world, all the feelings of his life, all his successes and failures, all his emotional deaths and rebirths. It was her, a woman of incredible beauty, that one who had such an unexplainable elegance, that even the most talented and virtuous poets would never be able to describe it sufficiently. It was a woman of that man’s love and life, just like Anne of Gary, and she was as close as ever to our Gary in those dreams, which he would always impatiently wait for during the slow hours of daytime.

He was young. He was full of energy. He was passionate. He still had a whole life somewhere in front of him, somewhere behind the future’s horizon that is yet to be conquered with the glorious wife of his, Éveline. It was easy to call her a perfect mother, more than that she was an extraordinary wife. They had everything anyone would ever dream of: money, wealth, an enormous house in the distanced rural paradise. Everything was easily reachable for purchase or possession in order to satisfy any of their most materialistic desires. However, as in any human life, darkness has visited their fates and kidnapped the life of their son, which was already hanging on a thin thread despite the help of best doctors in the country. Unfortunately to their happiness, diphtheria was ruthless and indifferent to any money offered to her, to any prays whispered to destroy her. The husband and wife did not have the capability to withstand the death of their only angel, especially if it was followed by the declining husband’s business, which was falling apart like a careful card construction. They fell down with all their card-constructed life and vanished from the face of this world.

“Gary…Gary…Gary…” she would always softly whisper in his ear as his eyes moved under the closed eyelids, unwilling to open and always searching for her. No matter how absurd this sounded, no matter how crazy it seemed to an adequate human being, he fell in love with the woman which he saw in his dreams, the one he saw standing in the graveyard on that cursed day or the one that somehow, somewhere in a parallel reality, was his wife in the distant past. He didn’t want want to know and he wouldn’t be able to find out in any way either. The only things he had was the feeling of her warmth, the tender tickle of her whispers, and all life and death seemed so meaningless as long as he was close to her even if for several hours at night. She was that petite mannequin he fell in love with with his entire mind, the one to whom he would sacrifice his heart every single day, just to feel up his life with such a beautiful love once again. She defined what dreams are at night and during the day, she was the meaning of his reality, his illusions and made the cruel time vanish during the dearest moments, making him want to throw the damn alarm against the wall for it to break into tiny pieces in order for him to never hear it again, as then he would once again have to face the cold, disgusting 6 am.

But this was another night. Pain filled his body, coupled with complete inability to move. He felt how blood was collected under every centimeter of his body, ready to escape and spill out as his body felt so swollen and numb. He opened his eyes. His old, wrinkly skin was covered in bruises, turning him into a paddle of ink as they were so dark and large, filled with colours of bluish purple. The cuts covered his skin and the red blood seemed so bright and lively compared to the pale, almost transparent material which covered his bones and worn down muscles. The pain he felt was so intense that it destroyed the ability to think from where it could have ever appeared from. Gary decided not to go to work and preferred to suffer in the sun-filled room, like a crippled vampire who had to humiliate himself in front of all his dynasty. Why would that happen to him? If it was an enemy, then it was impossible as he was a respected gentleman who wouldn’t even touch a fly, and the one he dared to gently reach to was the one to whom he dedicated all his lust every single night, when he was so young and filled with energy.

Suddenly, those unworldly eyes again, placed right in front of his face as though with an intention to stare through his soul and eat it alive.

“You…” whispered Gary who felt so eerie yet so joyful by her presence.

“Yes, it is indeed me. Swipe off this shocked face of yours. I need to talk to you.” she said with a harsh, even commanding voice.

He didn’t have time to ask her how a dream could so swiftly become a reality, even if he prayed for this without ever stopping.

“You know me and I know you, and you might even think that you love me. The life which you have been living in one bed with me, well…that was indeed you, but in a very distant past of ours. You see, your soul is what I have been searching for, and it was so incredibly difficult for me to break through the wall of our separated worlds. It is about our passed away son, it is the reason why I am standing here in front of you and making you feel completely mad. Gary, understand that all I ever wanted is for us to be happy, to be united and never separated. I just…I have to confess to you.”

“ it?” his voice sounded so silent and almost unable to be heard, as that is all he could afford to say in such a state.

“Please, all I ask from you is a simple, humane understanding. I had to ask the dark powers to grant you with all you ever asked for, with all the wealth and easiness of life. But, our son was the one who had to possess our souls and carry the weight of their offer. As any other fragile soul he wasn’t capable of handling it any longer and it was taken away by them, as a payment. I couldn’t exist without you, Gary! For this reason, I was obliged to return you back to this world, only in another century. I watched you every second, how you were born, how you grew up, how you lived and loved, and this was everything that made me happy. Only one thing, I had to pay for this happiness with my own soul, to ensure that you do live a fulfilled life. This means we are one soul now, we carry the same core within us. After you existed with it throughout all these years, I will have to take it back to continue my eternal existence among the dark side, Gary. There is only one way..I’m really, really sorry, but I need to kill you. Please forgive me.”

Just before her hands lifted to strike his chest with her knife, his survival instinct subconsciously hit her head with a heavy lamp which stood right next to his bed. Although he was amazed by the fact that his reflexes were still there, he had to witness her blood drop to the floor, creating orange spots on the yellow carpet. Everything seemed so distant, as he was still dreaming or watching a movie, his mind not being able to react with correct emotions or movements, just when he felt so strange, as if he was disappearing himself. He watched in panic how his fingers turned invisible, moving upwards and affecting his torso. No matter how loud he would try to scream, no sound would come out as the soul inside him was burning down. All he could sense was a transformation into the same nature as the air’s, thin and unable to touch. He was leaving to his loved one, with one with whom he shared one soul, and without whom he could no longer exist.

Mr. Williams became nothing itself, just another empty soul which no one saw and no one remembered deeply. Those eyes of deep blue and bright gold belonged to a witch, who turned the time for him, who alternated reality just to gift her love with the most beautiful illusion. She was the time herself and solely for him did she sacrifice her own physical existence. It was an illusion of life, as she was his life, it was an illusion of happiness, as she was his happiness for which he aimed to reach every moment the moon would shine over his closed eyes, and with the one he would reconnect once again, even it would last for only a split second of eternity.

Time stops for no one, and it can only last in form of an illusion, such as the one of Mr. Gary Williams.

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