"Under the calm and warm sun, shining in the blue sky, she lay there with her eyes closed, on the soft grass, dewy from midnight. Her dark hair settled on the ground like flower-laden vines. Tranquil silence from within, only interrupted by birds chirping or leaves rustling. Everything painted in rainbow colors and a feeling like, the world is standing still. A pause, that brings a sense of peace."

These thoughts make Ray smile. Isn't this all one dreams of, a place where your heart is at ease, and the outside world isn't on fire either?

But this isn't the reality. It's far from reality. With open eyes, it is dull night skies, with neither stars nor moonlight. There is no soft grass but a cold concrete terrace floor. There still seems to be a pause, one where the whole world is running ahead while she is still there tied down by her flowing hair. A smile creeping on her face, tears dropping slowly, nourishing the chains to her prison. By her unkempt hair, lies a small box. A box, which you look at and know that it is going to be heavier than it looks. It has a small rusted lock screaming that it has not been opened in a long time.

"Ray!", the door to the room opens, and there stands Helen.

Ray quickly covers the box on her table with some cloth and puts pens and papers to the side.

"Were you writing again?", Helen asks leaning against the door.

Ray gets up from her chair and walks towards Helen and hugs her.

"Yeah! (she takes a relaxing sigh, smiling as they get out of embrace) Shall we go now?"

"Yes! But, (Helen starts laughing) shouldn't you change? You look like you are ill."

"What? (with a proud smirk) Well did you not hear, it's the new aesthetic!"

"Helen, we have been walking for forever. I am starving. BNB was not this far.", Ray complains.

"Hey! I only know as much as you do."

"Come on! Helen, you know the routes better than me. I don't know the way!"

At the next turn, they see a cafe, Ray stands outside and stares at the building.

"Bloom Berry? It wasn't here before, was it? Helen?"

Helen smiles and says, "Cake?", as she enters the cafe.

Ray smiles and walks after her. As soon as they get inside, Ray is surprised and very confused. Monet drawings, Kiwi prints, Lilies, wood carvings, everything looks-

"This place! This-"

"Yes! I thought so too. This looks familiar. Exactly like your designs for our cafe. Strange!", Helen interrupts.

They settle down and as Ray reads through the menu, the names written and calligraphy leave her even more bewildered.

"Hell Ray" "Wellington Berry" "Pink Peach Kisses"

"Helen, these all are from our-", she stops as she looks up and Helen is nowhere in sight.

"Helen!" "If this is a joke, stop already! HELEN!"

Someone taps on her shoulder from behind.

"Helen!", she says as she turns and sees Helen standing right there but with different clothes on.

"Yes! Hello! Welcome to Bloom Berry. May I take your order?"

"Helen", Ray slips silently.

"Yes. Um, I don't know how you know my name, but are you okay? Are you looking for someone?"

"Helen. Stop. Quit fooling. This is not funny."

"Sorry?"

Seeing Ray worried, Helen presses the kitchen bell and gives Ray some water.

From inside walks out a lady, and one can bet if our Ray takes a little care of herself, eats on time, and gets enough sleep, she would look just like her.

"This is Ray. Ray Bloom Berry", Helen chirps and continues, "Ray, have you seen someone here? She is looking for someone named Helen."

Ray, who came from inside, was silent. And our Ray felt like the familiar yet unknown face was mocking her in ways unknown. It felt like she was peeping into the future from today's window. Incomprehensible but interesting happenings. Ray quickly jolts herself out of the wins and wants for the future, moving her head left to right, into the present.

Hesitant, she starts, " Um, are you not Helen Berry?"

"No. I mean, no more. I am Helen Bloom Berry. (she smiles)I and Ray moved to Italy three years back and opened this cafe."

Ray laughs(confused). "Italy? This cafe is in London."

"What? No. We've been here for two years, it's Turin, Italy."

Ray's head starts spinning, "But I-" "Three" "We are" "Two", her head falls into her hands, as she sits down.

"Ray? You okay?"

She looks up to see Helen, in her old clothes sitting in front of her.

"Helen! These(She points behind only to find no one there) people are-"

"Yes. I checked. The place is empty. I got us cakes and bagels. Kept the money on the counter."

Ray's head was still spinning, what happened and didn't, the line was smudged.

"Please, let's go!", Ray says slowly.

"Where? Let's go to our spot. (Ray mouths a No.) You'll feel better. Come on."

Helen drags Ray with her.

They are sitting on a bench in Cheshire Cemetery, in silence.

"We are in London right?", Ray asks slowly.

Helen starts laughing. "Haha. What?"

Looking at Ray's face, she traces it with her hand and answers calmly, "Yes! We are in London. (taking a deep sigh) Home."

For the next few moments, it seemed all was okay again.

Home to a heart is another heart.

Then a box kept on a grave came into Ray's wandering sight. She raised her head from Helen's lap and walked to the box, Helen following her to the grave.

They both kneel down by it. Looking at the box, Ray turns pale. She asks slowly, "Why is our spot, a cemetery, Helen?"

Helen keeps her right hand on Ray's left hand and whispers, "Open it."

The box looks similar to what Ray had in her room, but with a broken lock, "THis-", she gasps.

"This is mine. I opened it before I left. (with a muffled sob) I am sorry."

Ray hugs Helen tightly and starts crying, "No. No. Helen! No." "You can't do this. You. Why?"

"I was tired of pretending to be someone, I was not. They wanted me to be with- (her voice disappearing) I am sorry. Ray-"

Ray snaps out of Helen's hold, "No. Did a thought about me not cross your mind? How could you? And all this? What was all this?"

Helen keeps repeating, "I am sorry", all along as they both cry, and Ray keeps speaking gibberish.

After some time, Helen hugs Ray tightly, fighting her attempts to leave until she hugs her back. Then she holds her and tells her firmly, "Ray! Ray, you have to listen. (she eyes the box) For me. Please."

Ray holds the box in her hands and looks at Helen, "For us!", she knows she has to, as she opens the box, Helen murmurs a soft, "love you". The box opens and it all goes blank. Ray can't see anything but she hears the desperate cries and knocks from under the grave. She sees the name on the grave, horrified she drops unconscious.

When she wakes up, few hospital nurses are carrying her, "Where's Helen?", she asks, barely audible, still not quite able to open her eyes.

"Where were you, Miss Bloom? We have been looking for you all day."

"Helen-", she says faintly before all the voices come rushing to her and she goes unconscious again.

The next time she wakes up, she's in her room, with her box and papers still on the table.

As she tries to remember and put pieces together, her head starts spinning and she starts screaming Helen's name and banging the door. Some staff nurses walk in and give her a dose and put her to bed.

She falls asleep, probably to write another story, which almost always has the same ending.

Probably she'll remember this time or maybe not, that this is not the story of Ray. This is not the story of Helen, not the story of their love. This is the story of the box that holds the part of people, people like her and Helen, the weight they have to drag with them all their life, hidden, being told, it's not how it is supposed to be.

The part, which when revealed, claims lives.

A revelation that stole their stories.

//God forbid the truth to be told,

they call you thief, they burn you cold,

You who run in name of love,

In the name of God, your sins are gold.

//

-In the memory of Helen Bloom Berry

(The story is set in old London, many years back. Helen died a year ago, during London hate crimes, when she was buried alive by protestants, after which, Ray remained in an asylum for 3 years. Now she runs Bloom Berry cafe in Turin, Italy and writes occasionally. 'Hell Ray' is still her favorite drink. )

Ps. This is just the beginning. Story is not over yet.