Ever since the day Kiron threw herself out of the window and disappeared among the grasses, leaving a trail of blood on the blades of the grasses, I have been continuously seeing strange dreams. In these dreams, I am always following the bloodstains, to find her and reach a lake which is almost freezing. The water of the lake is as black as can be, and as I stand there, looking around, I start to hear an unearthly hum of hundreds of people repeating one single sentence over and over: Death is the only escape.
As the hum gets louder, I start to notice all over the banks of the lake were corpses- pale and had their eyes open and pupil diluted making the eyes all white. They were murmuring, in no particular synchrony, that death is the only escape. I realize at this point that I am actually dreaming and start to scream to wake myself up to escape the deafening sound, but the noise only grows and becomes clearer: Death is the only escape. Death is the only escape.
I remember, about seven months ago, I received a strange letter. ‘My name is Kiron and I want to tell you a story’ it started. I didn’t know any Kiron but I continued to read. She was telling a story of a girl trapped in an old rotting house on a hill. The house had no neighbour and grasses that reached almost the knees of hers surrounded it. The protagonist of her story, Jasmine, was trapped there for months and she was writing on the walls of the house about the mythical civilization of ‘Jonaci’ that disappeared about three thousand years ago mysteriously and no one ever could find any trace of it. Kiron wrote that the only thing that survived the disappearance of the mythical kingdom of Jonaci was fireflies. That is why in some cultures fireflies are known as ‘Jonakis’ and that is a reason why she thinks Jonaci might not be a myth but a reality.
I wrote back to her that she was a good writer and I would like to read more of the story. A week later, I received another letter from her- a longer letter, and in it, she continued the story. Now, Jasmine was going insane and she was writing more on the walls about Jonaci and about the most beautiful whore who lived there thousands of years ago. All young men would follow her to have a piece of her and all young women would follow her to become more like her. She would roam about the kingdom playing the flute and every young soul would run out of their homes and follow her like the rats followed the Pied-Piper. But the elders knew something was not usual about this whore. They knew she wasn’t a human, for if she were, she could not have such extraordinary control over the human minds.
I wrote to Kiron that the whore sounds like someone I would like to fall in love with. Soon, I received another letter… (To be continued)