As I click the light and look towards the dark toilet, my eyes hurt, because of the bright light which hits my eye. I squint my eyes and almost close them.
I should say, I preferred the three days when there was no light at all. And now that there is finally a light in this little toilet, it had to be so bright. Sigh.
And it flickers by a bit. The light had to burn for a solid minute, for it to stay still, without flickering. Perfect.
I just finish the business of peeing there, and turn to the door, while zipping back my pants. It was midnight, so this flickering light was possibly the only light source in the house, right now. Well, into the darkness now – which was lighter on the eyes!
Everyone must be fast asleep by now. I was always the last to sleep, as I had to take a little walk after dinner. Kind of healthy and also helps me not have to sleep with a full tummy.
As I hear the door lock click open, caused by my own hands, I pull the door and open it. And I let my plenary walk into my eyes. The light from behind my head – finally stabilizes as I pull the door.
It was supposed to be dark. But it is bright. Everywhere. As if the light had extended to infinity, in front of me. My eyes burn a little, and as everything clears out I realise… it clearly wasn't my house.
White tiles extend through the space, endlessly. Brightness everywhere. Even up above it was white.
Had I fallen asleep in the toilet? This sure must be a dream. Man, I hope my face isn't fallen into the commode or something, that'd be disgusting!
But dreams can be interesting. Let's see what this one is…
And so I step onto the pretty tiles… with care. I sure hope I don't stain them! What a waste that'd be, of these fine tiles.
I walk. I walk more. No end in sight. And the door to my toilet far behind… being the only… no… I see something bright there, between all this white.
I basically race towards it. What details would this be? I wonder which one of my memories this… that's… art. On the floor, bright red outlined art… erotic art. Wow, whoever made this: took their time with the details. But it is also so… beautiful. Wow. And it looks a little bumpy, in a kind of… piquing manner. A bit of 3D. Realistic.
As I look to my side, I see many more such pieces on the floor. Not erotic art all, but more of this bright red art. Different kinds… all across the floor. Non-naked mermaid… not outline but so realistic with the fillings, at her tail, unlike the previous one. Incomplete portrait designs of flowers, some gothic, some touching, but this… makes me stand still.
"What are you?" I ask the design on the floor, and even bend down to look at it with a closer view. "Who brought you here?"
This… the design was so human… but also not. Something so alien. Something so beautiful. What emotion was it portraying? I want to feel this feeling… I am feeling it, while looking at it… but I want more. I… want it.
And I realise why the 'DO NOT TOUCH' boards are at art museums. Sometimes the art compels you to touch it, embrace it, and want you to take it. No. I couldn't ruin it… but it wouldn't be rude if I only… grace it… I see no board.
I look around for only a moment, and go ahead to merely grace my hand over it. I could feel that all of the red may be just a coat of paint, but something solid also must be below. I just don't think I'm brave enough to ruin it and find out.
I bring myself to move from there, with great hardship, and go forward. The art sure was… open minded. I could now see a lot of completed arts in between. But I end up following the most disgusting set of art… gore. All of them seem to be in this section which now I'm in.
I always wondered really how human realistic naked body or cross-section would be… it was here. A lot of naked art which wasn't really limited to being sexual. No… this was even more than what I could find on the internet. This really wasn't some dream… what was it? Was I actually here? Where is here?
And then I come across something my eyes had seen first, to follow this path. Some kind of a 3D model art. Something… frightening, yet not. I've seen this one video on the internet… about how angels actually look, with a hundred eyes around their body… I was not sure about the number on this one, but… there were a lot.
But the art in itself had a few imperfections… the skin covering each of these surely different eyes, they all were dissimilar. And the red fleshy stuff of a body below… the palette was so different and not matching to each other. That is how it was obvious that this was a lazy attempt of a scare. But… wow.
"But if all of you were in sync," I think out loud.
And my whole body burns with a rush of goose-bumps. It begs for me to run. All the eyes look to me. All of them stare right into me. I first feel scared of being watched and then it hits me… they… were… just a model.
So I don't run, like my first instinct asks me to. Instead I look at all these eyes staring, and bend down to this art too. Carefully and slowly… I move a finger to touch one of the eyes… it… feels soft, jelly-like almost. I dig my finger deeper, in an attempt to unde-
-I jerk away, and stumble backwards. Lifting my wobbly feet I run… the eye blinked, and the skin touched my finger. I felt it… it felt… way too realistic. Unbearably so.
I run and run. The path I had come in, was obvious. I hadn't taken any confusing path in this endless, unfenced place. Back to the beautiful emotion of an art, the mermaid, the erotic art… the vast empty… no…
As my feet rush me towards the washroom door, which I had entered here from… I see a guy standing in between us. A guy wearing some kind of a white hoodie with whatever pattern… and a knife in his hand.
But I don't stop. I make sure I have a hand ready to stop him from slashing, but he never slashes at me. I punch him to the side, and make way to the washroom door again. And so I lock myself inside it.
As I push myself to the opposite side and face the door, I see a very tiny hole carved into the door. One which I didn't recognise before. And I see the guy through this, coming here.
Was the wall… was the door enough to… no. What was this? How? He sure… what is this place? The door can't hold him… were those other people… did he… how do I escape before… how long will the door be stable?
A low knocking sound resounds on the door. And a light pull is applied from the outside, but the door doesn't budge. But I knew how brittle it was; it could easily break in my own hands.
"Let's not waste time, kid. Come outside. I could carve you some filthy butterflies, which you may fancy."
"Who the fuck are you?" I ask straight to the point.
A pause moves along for a while. "Bright red artist," he finally says. "Bright, shortly. But names… you won't be needing to speak here. You can just exist in silence… forever."
"What is this place?"
"Just come outside, kid," he bangs at the door, and I shudder in fear. His voice was with a little desperation. Like some addict.
"W-why?"
"Because I'm desperate to make some art. I have a few ideas. I'll learn what your soul would want."
I just stay silent, trying to make sense. "What?"
"I will tear you into a thousand pieces and make use of each in a different way. And your blood will work as paint for the many art. While your stupid flesh can make friends with other stupid flesh. Now come the fuck out!" Another bang on the door.
"Please, no…" I say, in a shock… but unable to get my tears out. Will screaming even work in this place? I was somewhere no where. With no one. All my screams would just be… Lowly Screams. "I don't… I did nothing. Why would you kill me?"
"KILL!?" he shouts in a disbelief. "I'm not some psychopath. I'm an artist! Nothing dies in here. Looking at you having run that way… you should've seen one such thing. You won't die. You'll just… become something bigger. Just allow me to."
"Something bigger?"
"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW. GET THE FUCK OUT, YOU STUPID SON OF A WHORE! DO NOT TEST MY PATIENCE! YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING EASILY I COULD GET IN THERE AND FLUSH YOUR CORPSE DOWN THAT TOILET?"
One bang. Then another. Then another.
My knees go numb and I fall my ass to the floor.
This can't be happening. What is the meaning of this? My tears covered face – doesn't help me understand.
"I'm sorry," I hear a voice just a little above a whisper. "But… this is your fucking fate. I made sure you can't go home. Just give in, kid. It is pointless. I don't wanna waste your precious blood. How well could we use it?"
"Y-you'll," I sniff, trying to make an illogical logic. "Paint me into one of those… that emotion one?"
"Oh dear… it was something a bit unfinished. A little embarrassing that you saw that. But, how about I use you to complete it? Would you like that?"
"Can I?"
"Yes… I could even make an entirely… better one. So much better. I'm sure you'd like that?"
"So I won't… die?"
"Promise."
"A-and I'll feel no pain…? And can be a big… I'll have value?" I ask with a desperation.
I don't get an answer… my anticipation increases by the moment. I feel like I'll lose my hopes – my sanity was already flickering in the light's stead.
"The later part… of course. Obviously. But… pain… I'm sorry. You need to feel it. I mean… you are keeping me waiting so much. A-and you really think you could have value without a little pain?"
"Then… only a little?"
"No… you… you are killing my patience. I need you to suffer. Just enough for me. For putting away such precious time. So just… just come out now. I'll make sure I don't punish you too much. Only for the amount you deserve. So open the damned door."
I control my heavy breathing and hold the latch of the door. One swipe… a little pain… I could be so much… so I open the latch. I see no emotion in his eyes… he only comes forward, and I take a step back. Yet he grabs the side of my head.
"Understand how that felt," he says, and bangs my head to the wall.
My ear rings… and he holds me in between both his hands.
"Unless you want to become filth in here… stop wasting your precious blood here, and follow me."
He holds out his hand, and I grab it while barely able to envision what is in front of me. I close my blurry right eye, and look only through my left. With pained and dizzy steps… I take a few steps outside, while following him.
"Can't we please just…" I say, and he stops to look at me. "Here?"
"You are so weak," he says, looking at me with pity. "Yet you have such potential… very well."
With one push, I fall to the floor. Just lay there. As I open my eye, I find his face right ahead of me. His knife aimed to my face.
"I'm…" he says, and presses his knife near my eye – making me groan and scream in pain. "Oh my…" he goes deeper and carves downwards, down my cheek. "Your pain…" his knife lifts up and gazes at the skin of my neck. "Please don't give me such validation."
"It hurts," I shiver, now finally feeling this pain. It fucking sucked. No. Couldn't I just… but… I could be so much.
"I promise you… it is only a start. I really am planning so much. Just keep your sanity, if you can. I wouldn't need it, but you might."
The knife tears the shirt covering my shoulder, and digs slightly into my shoulder… then down my elbow, wrist, and my finger.
I hear a squeak which brings me back, and shakes even him. And we look to our side… I see my brother kneeling to the ground.
"Ah…" Bright says, getting up. "You…" he looks back to my door… it was the only door here. "It isn't rare for two people to come out of the same place… but continuously, and after I broke the link… that's a first. Guess fate wants you as a… majestic dragon."
"No!" I get up, and jump to him. But I only feel pain in my gut, and look down with tears in my eyes.
"He'll do okay," he nods in an assuring manner. "So obedient… unlike someone. I'll make sure he doesn't suffer a lot."
"Anna," my brother bawls his eyes, while looking this way.
"Or maybe he could… even you could…"
I get put to the floor, and my brother holds the knife and opens my chest, as I tell him that it was okay. His poor hands grind over my ribs, making even the knife blunt. And after the ribs, he hold my still beating heart in his hands. At least Bright showed mercy by making sure I couldn't make a sound, even if I wanted to – by working my neck.
How was this even possible to witness?
My poor brother… I wish death just chooses him. He couldn't… he shouldn't have to… but he does. I see as his tiny hands scribble a joke of a dragon – with my blood. But I feel proud while watching that.
My only proper eye is extracted properly by Bright, and my brother wears me as a locket. So that I don't miss anything which he does. And he does so much.
But fate… or was it destiny which Bright quoted on that day? Whatever it is… my brother was thrown into one of those abomination piles too… when he lost his sanity completely. It was for the better. But I had to watch my poor brother be cut… Bright made sure I watched…
I was not sure… but perhaps maybe in at least one place… my brother and my pieces are together. Somewhere. Where I can embrace and tell him it is okay. Give him a little comfort.
But I wonder where my brain is… how I could still think with just my eye. So really there was no death… yet… what a life this was. Always watching over this bright plane. Sometimes gazing at the Bright art. Hoping to be crushed under somebody's feet, even when I wasn't on the ground… where was I?
Ah… maybe that is why on that day… the eye let me poke into it. Maybe it was living my misery… maybe it passed me its misery. Maybe now… I need to find my successor.
But at least… I had meaning now. I couldn't recall what painting I was made into. But I'm sure that one day somebody might view and view it as beautiful or filthy. Trying to find it's meaning. Or maybe just pass me by as some… Bright art.