Someone's forgotten diary.
... A world without you... You ask me what it is, and I'll answer because I've been living in it since birth. Days that change nights, breathe the warmth of dawn and carry the wind of the sunsets, plunge the earth into darkness. I wake up thinking about you and fall asleep trying to imagine your face. Where are you? Who are you? Do I know you when you knock on my door? People come and go, but you're all gone. Sometimes I feel like I just came up with you so I wouldn't lose my mind with loneliness, but then your voice whispers all sorts of funny nonsense in my ear. And I believe again that one day we will meet.
But when will this time come? Or maybe you'll come when my own sunset sneaks up on me around the corner? Yeah, that's probably how it's going to be. You will stop by my bedside and take my weak fingers in your big, strong palm. And I will smile, looking into your eyes.
- Hello.
- Hello," you will answer seriously and shut up again because words are not your element. It is I who can talk silently, and you are a man of action. But sometimes the heart speaks more words.
I will look into your eyes and feel the eternal cold coming up. You know, I always thought you had the light. Grey or blue, like pieces of frozen ice that are so hard to melt. Will you ask why? I don't know. I think so.
It's funny... I was waiting for you so long, and now I am silent, not knowing what to say. But how can I describe everything I feel just by being around you? It's enough for me that you're here, that you're smiling at me, sitting on the edge of my bed. You're not leaving? No, you will stay with me until the end.
Silence again. I'm sneaking a glance at you looking for everything I've given you. You have a beautiful face. Strict, correct. I want to remember it so I can take it to the other side, but it suddenly slips away from me like it's blurred in the dark of the room. I'm trying to reach out to you and I know I can't. A small whirlpool picks up my soul and takes me away to where I'll be waiting for you again...
Well, I wrote it and it got easier. And what did I suddenly think about dying? It took me a long time to get there. Anyway, I hope so. Maybe my revelations would have made you laugh, but while you're not here, I can write anything I want. But you know, sometimes I really wait for my last hour, because only then will we meet you...
Chapter 1.
- No, no, Erin, what are you doing? - A girl's cry tore up the silence in the room. The blonde blonde blonde turned her back on the boiling pot and looked bewildered at her friend, who suddenly rushed to her, trying to grab her hand and stop her from throwing the ingredient into the water.
- It's too late, Larry," she snapped. The other girl, dark-haired and grey-eyed, was doomed to breathe.
- Damn it, Erin, you want to charm him, not kill him. Why did you need a parsley root?
Erin shook her shoulders.
- It says so.
- Not at all," Larry was outraged, throwing back a tightly woven scythe. She pointed her finger at the line in the open book on the table.
- Have you forgotten? If there is a combination of "a" and "e", it reads as "e". How did you read it?
Erin rubbed her nose bridge with embarrassment.
- Like an "e," she admitted. Larry triumphantly jerked her behind the curl.
- Where do you hang out during class?
Erin grinned and gently grasped the edges of the hot pot and poured the spoiled potion into the dumpster. Then she sighed, thoughtfully looking at the steam rising from the bucket. To be honest, she didn't want to mix all these nasty pieces of this or that substance again, even if it was simple parsley. She wouldn't mind lying on warm sand under the warm rays of the sun. And then to plunge into the beckoning waves, rolling on the shore. And also it would be possible...
- Erin, Erin," Larry's piercing voice pulled her away from thinking again, and she looked at her friend.
- Well, what else?
- We had three hours left. Do you want to get a credit?
Erin covered her eyes. No, of course not counted at the end of the year, and the main subject - "Preparation of potions and broths" - was not part of her plans, because the summer she intended to devote to rest, not to correcting bad marks. The Academy of Witchcraft was famous for its traditions and graduates, and no one would have allowed her to end the year with at least one D. Even though she had two semesters left before graduation. In general, it was necessary to forget about the upcoming holidays for a while and plunge into the study.
To be continued...