ONE, TWO, THREE
The Girl In The White Room
The lake and the meadow
I’m never sure where I will wake up next.
Sometimes, I find myself in the middle of a lake, unable to get out of the water. It’s cold, humid, and dark all around. I swim to the shore, but it seems to get no closer. A few days pass, and I’m still there. I try everything, but it’s no use. I’m trapped for so long I grow gills and call it home.
All I feel then is fear.
And sometimes, I wake up in the middle of a meadow, surrounded by morning fog. I feel the grass under my feet, and the sun’s rays touch on my skin. I walk around, notice hills in the distance. The gills disappear. It’s hard to believe the place I was in just a moment ago truly exists.
All I feel then is peace.
And sometimes, I wake up in a white room. White walls, white floor, white ceiling, cold light. I look around. There’s nothing except two frames hanging on the wall. I touch the cold engraves, and I shiver. They’re inside. The girls from the opposite worlds. They look like me. I call them She.
All I feel then is emptiness.
And the girl from the lake, She often cries. She says She hates it here. I tried to rescue her, but She said there was no escape. The water is her home now, her uncomfortable safety, her vault. I tell her about Her, the girl from the other frame. But She doesn’t believe me She exists.
And the girl from the meadow, She often laughs. She tells a lot of jokes. I asked if I could visit Her world more often. She said it’s not up to us. I hoped we could help the girl from the lake escape, together break the golden frame. But She doesn’t care about Her pain.
I often sit on the floor, with my knees curled up, and stare at the golden frames. I spend my days studying their engraves. If only I understood them, maybe I could find the blueprint for freedom.
But what happens if I succeed? Where do we go? We can’t stay here, no. Looking for answers, I knocked on the walls. There may be a shelter, fulfillment, a place for all of us. I hear the birds sing sometimes. And I wonder — maybe I could someday find a way out of this room. Maybe we could all break free. And the sunny meadow, cold lake, and white room won’t have to be a home for anyone anymore.
And maybe I’ll no longer wake up in a different skin every time someone pulls the trigger.
I will figure it all out someday. I will break the golden frames. And when the time comes, perhaps we can uncover the place hidden behind the white walls together. The place we could call our home. But until then, I will be here. Crying in the lake, laughing in the meadow, and musing in the white room.
