Kirsi woke up once again from the trap of the same nightmare repetition. The day goes on, one incident turns into another. But there comes a time when no matter how many days pass, or no matter how many events go by, a human being will be fixated on a certain situation.
And most of the things you want to forget are the things that are the hardest to move on. The moment when the incident took place sometimes will not be as painful as when humans repeat it back in memory. Some recall their grief twice, others feel the pain furthermore doubled, and some feel the hellish combination of sadness and pain that is multiplied at the same time. And as a normal human being in general, Kirsi also felt moments like that.
In that dream, Kirsi saw herself. She was in the room that made the most impression on her, as well as the room she wanted to forget the most but couldn't. What was scariest was that she looked happy there. She smiled brightly, laughing out loud. She's with someone who is most precious to her, joking around, wasting time in a sea of sweet trivial conversations, and then doing other meaningless things. The dream felt very real and familiar as if her real life was entirely a lie.
And instantly, that moment is now shattered to pieces. Slowly, everything now ruthlessly torn apart. All the things once she had are gone. Like cookie crumbs left in the corner of a jar. Or exam papers with low scores that are deliberately hidden under the mattress and forgotten over time. The atmosphere that was previously lively surrounded by flowers and twilight rays peeking through the window has now turned dark and gloomy like children's music played on low notes. Worse yet, in a minor key.
Suddenly, the cheerfulness turned into a chaotic distortion. The beauty of a slice of life turned into a jumpscare scene in a horror movie. The beloved figure who was previously smiling sweetly while sitting next to her suddenly turned into the face of one of the revolutionary soldiers who she stabbed in the forehead with her dagger. Blood rushed towards her like a leaking embankment. That warm and sticky sensation was rekindled in her memory. She felt like she was fine when he did at the time, but it was just a cheap attempt to lie to himself.
Since he had read all the scenes in this novel through its two-dimensional paper medium, he thought it would be easy for him to think of all the breathing people in this world as characters who only lived in the strings of writing. But their words sounded too clear and their blood felt so warm. Humanly and lively. It's hard to think of them as just a fictional characters playing a role.
The scariest thing about committing a crime is that we don't realize we are wrong until we do it.
At that moment Kirsi felt that she was a proud girl who could change and do everything because she had read the novel. Now she still thinks so too. Only, she didn't know if she could stay sane until the end.
Getting married, hurting other people, or even trying to kill them to defend herself was never an option as long as she lived in her old world. Not to mention that she was suddenly declared pregnant at a time when she had only kissed a man four times. She was declared pregnant at a time when she truly had nothing to teach the child later. Kirsi was not prepared at all. This is too much for her. This is all too much for her.
Kirsi in the dream was scared and tried to scream. But no sound came out. Kirsi tried to run away from the cold body of the revolutionary army, but no matter how far she pedalled, she wasn't getting anywhere. She walks in place. She's going through the same thing and can't say a word while pushing herself beyond her limit and trying to suck it up.
When Kirsi was jolted awake in the middle of the cold and torturous night, her breathing was a mess, her mind was muddled, and the traumatization from her nightmare still lingered even after she regained her consciousness intact.
To make sure that she was not alone in this world, her head turned to the side. And as soon as she saw the figure sleeping gracefully beside her, her mind calmed down. Kirsi noticed how the chest was rising and falling, indicating that he was real and living beside her.
Afraid that this was still in the same cursed dream, Kirsi extended her hand to reach towards Cedric. Sense how the cheeks that look like snow piles feel so warm and full of life. Cedric seemed disturbed in his sleep. He tried to get his comfort back by moving away from that naughty finger prick. Kirsi snorted in amusement.
She sat herself up and fingered the side table for a glass of water. Her throat felt like it was burning like she had swallowed hot molten lava. In the dream, she screamed with all her might at the tomorrow that didn't bring her dreams along, terrified to death of her own hopes, but not a single sound could escape. It was terrifying when she was helpless not only in the real world but even in her very dreams. This was even scarier than not finding a toilet in a dream.
After drinking a glass of water, Kirsi felt a little better. Her eyes looked at the giant window on her right. The night looks darker and darker without the accompanying moon and star clusters. The branches of the tree that wither during the short autumn season hold a pile of snow. Its blunt tip occasionally knocks on the window pane along with the relatively strong night wind. Kirsi shivered with cold. Forgetting that she was only wearing a sheer satin nightgown that couldn't keep out the cold.
Even Cedric who usually slept with his belly exposed was wearing extra clothes to warm himself up now. He sank into a goose-down mattress, accompanied by a blanket as thick as a warm bear fur coat. His face was sleeping comfortably and looked purer and more innocent. His lips parted slightly because he couldn't breathe through his stuffy nose. Kirsi chuckled. She pulled up the blanket for Cedric and got off the bed.
Her bare feet took firm steps on the burgundy velvet carpet. The faint voices of the workers who were still awake could be heard in the silence of the room. The night wasn't as late as she thought. The Cabinet clock showed midnight past 6 minutes now, still too early to wake up.
Even within the midst of flowing time, look, indifference still goes around and around. Hosts are sleeping soundly on their goose-down mattresses, while the workers are still toiling for the masters without their awareness. Who are they struggling for? Is it for themselves? Or is it to feed their hypocritical soul?
Kirsi snorted softly.
There is a fine line between comedy and tragedy. Like the thickness of a sheet of paper that is not able to separate between hate and love. The only thing they all have in common is that they are all laughingstocks that can make you burst into joy until you shed tears.
Kirsi grabbed a warm blanket from her closet and moved to the side balcony overlooking Cedric's frozen fish pond. The bone-chilling air hit her as soon as she opened the balcony door. Kirsi quickly closed it back so as not to wake Cedric.
To be honest, besides the feeling of disbelief, there was a lot of relief that took over her when she was first thrown into this world. The accumulation of all her sleepless nights in the old world paid off with her deep sleep over the past few days. At least not before she went to the fall hunting event and tried to kill someone for the first time to save herself. Kirsi was quite confident in her bodily abilities, but she had no confidence in her mental capabilities.
After all, she is someone who lives in an age where killing is a crime, in a world where women's emancipation continues to be heralded, in a world where human rights continue to be spoken about in every corner of the world.
She lives in a world where humans can't kill but a mother can easily murder the soul of her child just because her child is not a person who fits her ideal. A father can easily sell their child to pay off his gambling debts, and a boss can view the self-esteem of his workers as low as toilet paper. She lives in a world that always screams for women's emancipation all over the world but victims of abuse continue to fall not only on women but also men. She lives in a world where human claims to uphold human rights but never tries to respect differences.
Kirsi is a resident of a world that only keeps its idealistic values in their heads, but never actually implements them. Now that she lived in a world that was ninety degrees the opposite of what she knew, she thought she had an idea of it, but she didn't at all.
As she saw this world and felt its reality right under her skin, she thought to herself,
...
Am I seeing a dream? But the dream seems fuzzy that it can't even stay longer in me.
Am I seeing nothing? But the remnant of it feels too real that it suffocates me to death.
Are the words that I'm holding dearly useless?
I'm just had enough of sadness.
"Feeling nothing" is best somehow, to heal the soul craving for bewildering words.
...
But all she got was blues.
She looked up high, with her heart just at the upper sky.
Kirsi thinks, even if I don't belong to this world, do I truly exist in this world? Would this me exist in the future?
Am I oppressed now? Am I sad now?
She still doesn't know anything about herself either. Even just inhaling some frosty breath, she's just tired of it. So how would she care for other people who work their asses out for killing her, for the sake of a certain coin, when she can't even ensure her very future. So she killed them. She does nothing wrong. Even killing is unacceptable in any way, saving herself more priority than any other norm, no?
She's not being heartless. She's just tired.
When she felt low, she couldn't think positively whatsoever. She could only continue to crawl in the mud while trying to be friendly for a while her desperation. It was unusual for her to feel this bad after experiencing a pack of nightmares. Was it because she was pregnant that she was so sentimental?
Oh, no.
The thought of being pregnant only made her even more depressed. Kirsi continued to rely on her last consciousness to prevent unnecessary hatred towards this unborn child. Kirsi can't guarantee anything, but she will try. She was innocent as long as she tried to deny her bad urges.
Kirsi lowered her gaze as her neck started to hurt from looking up too long. She hugged herself, starting to chill in the mute reality.
The sound of a door opening was heard from behind, followed by the sound of decisive footsteps that came next. Not long after that, Kirsi felt a warm embrace from someone's smouldering body.
Cedric's sturdy chest became her backrest. Strong hands with protruding veins wrapped around her body like an iron fence. Cedric rested his chin on the top of Kirsi's head, muttering half asleep. "What is this, are you suddenly feeling depressed somehow?"
Kirsi scowled for a moment. "I couldn't sleep because of your noisy snoring."
Cedric couldn't believe the diversion, "Nonsense."
Kirsi snorted, "Aren't you still sulking at me? What is this, did you finally give up?"
"I am sulking. But now I'm taking a break because I'm cold. Tomorrow I will continue to sulk again."
Sometimes you don't need sweet words to please someone.
Kira laughed so hard that her shoulders shook. She didn't say anything as she was lifted and laid on the bed in one fell swoop. Cedric pulled the blankets over them and instead hugged Kirsi as a bolster all night.
After being forced to bathe together by this man several times, Kirsi has killed her shyness and has begun to build a habit of being indifferent to Cedric's every whim. Now that her head was buried in the warmth of Cedric's chest and comfortable embrace, she didn't rebel at all.
This man could be so kind and gentle at one time, then he could be so mean and poisonous another time. His kindness which was more unstable than the Emperor's affection often gave her a headache. Kirsi tried to get used to his ugly nature so that she wouldn't have to be so surprised again in the future.
"Hey, are you asleep?" Kirsi whispered against Cedric's chest.
"Yes."
Kirsi ignored his uncooperative reply and shared her odd midnight thought, "If you were suddenly given a cookie by someone, you don't even know when you got it when it was just in your hand. You know, the cookie is a bit dirty because your hands are dirty. But you're not satisfied with that. Dirty cookies can't be eaten, but dirty cookies can't even be washed, can you? At least you can only wipe them a few times thinking they might be clean. But the cookies can't be completely clean. In your opinion, if the cookies are damaged due to excessive and prolonged rubbing, is it okay for you to blame the cookies?"
"What are you trying to say? Do you want me to guess the hidden meaning of your cookie or something?" Cedric groaned to himself at this.
"I'm not asking about any damn meaning, I'm asking about the fate of the cookies!" Kirsi refrained from biting the seductive muscles in her face.
Cedric replied lazily, "If you ask a question about can you or not, then you can blame anything and anyone. But since you're asking about "permissible" or not, it depends on which side you want the answer from. Whether it's from the side of common sense, psychological, norms, or even religious."
"Then just answer from your side."
Cedric tightened his embrace, making his wife nearly suffocate to death for the second time. He replied, "You weren't asked to eat the cookies, why to bother cleaning them?"
Kirsi rolled her eyes, "Just say that you were asked to eat it."
"How is that possible? You don't even know when they gave you the cookie. If they had the chance to leave a message telling you to eat the cookie, you should also have time to clean your hands before accepting it, right?"
"Oh." Kirsi digested the sentence once again. "Not the answer I wanted but it's fine."
Cedric had no idea what this woman was thinking.
But at least as long as Kirsi was talking about cookies, the word "Mother" was written big above her head.
Was this woman thinking of her future child as a cookie?
How shameless!