"Laughter"

'How did I get here'

"You've always been here," a hot breath whispered. A shiver shot from my ear and down my spine. I recoiled and turned.

Two piercing, green eyes stared from behind a ceramic face. Long brown curls circled like tendrils and softly caressed her cheeks, and her crimson lips curled into a smile. She took my face in her hands and guided it in the direction of the children.

I had awoken in the midst of a celebration. Children swarmed all around us playing, laughing. A young girl in a striking red dress was tossed high in the air. My eyes followed her and I swallowed a feeling of impending doom that began in my chest and fell to my stomach in a sickening thick drop. My eyes fell to the ground and I closed them tightly.

'Not again, not again, not again.' I repeated the words over and over in my head.

"Don't worry," I turned and the woman with the ceramic face was staring ahead, smiling, "she'll be OK."

Her lips were no longer moving as she conveyed this message. I was suddenly unsure if she was even there, if she was even real.

Then she pointed.

I followed her extended hand to a woman sitting alone in the center of the children playing. Alone, centered in an ethereal aura of calmness and surrounded by chaos. She wore a light summer dress, and looked at the ground away from where we sat. Her shoulders were exposed, and her profile was soft, yet sleek. Her jaw line was pronounced, but our line of vision ended where most would expect a mouth.

She didn't move.

I kept my gaze upon her, the same feeling of doom lurching within me, and after what felt like an eternity of building terror and fear I screamed.

It wasn't a word, or words, and I don't think there are letters enough to fully encompass what came out of my mouth at that moment in whatever otherworldly measure of time is appropriate. It was the shrieking fear and calamity of a crazy person. And in that moment, I was a crazy person.

She still didn't move.

I felt an icy hand on my shoulder. The weight of the world was behind it, forcing me down, deep down. I turned.

The woman with the ceramic face was no longer there.

It was the woman in the sundress. The world spun and I expected to collapse. Fear, impending catastrophe, and sadness broke me down with a consuming weakness. My legs shook and I began to feel hot, thick tears well up in my eyes and fall down my cheeks. Her hand was on my shoulder but as I shakily looked up, her head was still turned to the side. In a brief and uncharacteristically courageous move, I tried breaking away to see her face. As I walked around, her body and the world moved in sync with my movements, yet her face remained steadily affixed at what was at times an impossible and awkward angle to the ground. I began running, chasing what felt like my own tail in a vain attempt to see her face.

I collapsed.

Curled on the ground, I cried. I cried for the faceless woman. I cried because the feelings of grief and depression and impending events had materialized inside of my body in a large ball, the only way to rid myself of them was to cry. And cry and cry.

It wasn't until the woman with the ceramic face came to lay next to me that I felt it safe to open my eyes. There was a certain smell, a certain familiarity that she carried. Her porcelain skin pressed up against mine and she asked if I was alright.

Again, the crimson lips never moved.

I couldn't explain the feeling. I couldn't put into words how this faceless woman's existence made me react in such a way. Apparently, I didn't have to.

'She doesn't exist.' The woman with the ceramic face explained, softly whispering into my ear as she held me, 'in the moment that you see her for what she truly is, she will cease to exist in this realm. So long as the two of you don't occupy the same frame in the same plain of existence, you'll both exist. The moment you make eye contact, you'll both cease to be.'

She playfully took my hair in her hand and brought my face close to hers. Her cold forehead pressed against mine and her green eyes flickered as they pierced deep into mine. She let me go and laughed.

She never stopped laughing.

#story #writing