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The devil visits me at night. He has grey eyes and his gaze is cruel and cold, although his lips are always smiling as he steps out of the darkness like a kelpie emerging from a lake. A kelpie is a water spirit, taking the shape of a horse or a beautiful woman. It will lure you in, make you ride on it’s back, to embrace it, to follow it. And then it drags you down into the depths and you drown. The devil neither looks like a horse nor like a beautiful woman, yet he emerges from the depths with a cruel gaze that scares me. I wonder when he will drag me into the deep with him.
******
Yellow means a week has passed. I like yellow. It’s the color of the sun and of dandelions. The color of honey. Not that I ever get any honey in here, but I still remember the taste some days. Especially on yellow days. How the golden liquid would run out of the comb straight into my mouth when I was young and was offered a piece of wax filled with liquid sunshine as a treat.
Yellow days also mean that I will see them again. On purple days I stop eating and on yellow days they come to get me. I struggle when they touch me, when they practically carry me through the corridors, my bare feet kicking empty air. It hurts when they strap me to the chair, the leather biting deep into my flesh. I struggle a bit more to drag out the process, enjoying their touch. I laugh hysterically once I’m all tied down, my head locked in place by a strap across my forehead.
The tube is the worst part. They shove it down my throat through my nose, making me choke and gag and cry. The tube is the worst part. But it’s over quick and the hunger is gone afterwards. They keep me in the chair for a while longer, to make sure I do not dig my fingers deep into my throat to vomit out whatever it was they poured into my stomach. I’ve done it before. When I didn’t want to go back just yet. They learned to be more careful.
The day after yellow is red, and that is my least favorite because everything hurts and I miss their touch. It’s true that it hurts when they touch me, but they do it because they don’t want me to die and it feels good to have someone care about me in this place. It is pleasant to feel the touch of another person, even if it hurts. Nobody ever touches me here except them. So I make sure they do not forget about me.
On red days I remove the little amulet I have hidden behind a loose brick underneath my bed. My bed is bolted to the floor so nobody ever really looks behind it. But when I reach down behind it at the right angle, I can reach my little hiding place with two fingers.
The amulet is pretty. It shows two crescent moons atop a four-pointed star. And in the middle sits a diamond. The heart told me to keep it safe. I will need it one day. I think it’s to get out of this place. I will be patient. My hair was long when I arrived and I hid the amulet in the tresses that covered my neck. They cut it off later, but not before I could find the little cranny in the wall to keep my treasure safe.
******
The devil returns and tells me to stop rejecting my food. Somewhere in my mind the heart agrees. If I eat every day for a week I will get a reward. There is no reason to trust the devil to tell the truth, but then, I will be okay if I skip one red-purple-yellow-cycle. I can still get more if the reward isn’t worth the effort.
******
Red day passes, then purple and still I eat what they bring me. Purple becomes yellow and nobody comes to get me. I eat my food. I wonder if the devil lied to me.
******
The devil did not lie. I was allowed to go down into the sun today.
There is a little courtyard outside and I was allowed to sit in the grass below the trees. There are even dandelions. I plucked one and blew the little seeds into the warm breeze. I hope they fly far and prosper wherever they land. Everyone deserves to have dandelions in their life, even the devil.
And then I saw the man. He was sitting in the grass, watching the fluffy white seeds fly through the air with a sad expression on his face. I sat down next to him and took his hand. His face didn’t change but he pressed back ever so gently. I forgot what it feels like to be touched without cruelty. It felt gracious and I smiled. He looked up into the sky, his eyes echoing the color between the clouds.
******
They said if I behave I can go to the courtyard again. It’s hard to count the days without the colors, but I eat the food they push into my cell every time until I am allowed to go into the courtyard again, to sit next to him.
******
There is a deep sadness in the man with the blue eyes. He never speaks, but sometimes he looks at me and his eyes hold more than his voice could ever explain. I understand. I, too, carry many regrets. We can share the burden of the things we have done. Sometimes I lift my hand to his cheek, not brave enough to touch him yet, but the tension of this last inch separating us is daring and exciting and I feel brave and audacious to have even gone that far.
******
The devil visits me again. He tells me I am doing well. I feel proud and the heart smiles at me in return.
******
Today when I lifted my hand to his cheek he leaned in and his face touched my hand. It was wet with tears, and I wiped them away with my fingers. I brazenly licked one of them from my thumb. It tasted salty and wonderful. I imagine that’s what the ocean tastes like. I wonder if his eyes ever saw the ocean before he came here, if they drank it in and are now releasing it here, in this place, for me to lick off my finger.
******
My days have new colors. Gone is the yellow and the red and the purple. My days are now split into grey and blue. On grey days I stay in my cell, on blue days I meet the man with the sky-ocean eyes.
Autumn is coming and I know the grey days will soon become more numerous than the blue ones since it is raining so much. No dandelions will be blooming then. It makes me sad.
******
The devil tells me it will be time soon. I don’t know what that means. The heart whispers in my ear to be strong and not give in to the fear. It protects me and I will be alright.
******
That night I dreamed of the man with the blue eyes as he once was, smiling and fearless, full of life. In the sunlight his hair looks like fire sometimes, and in my dream he was commanding that fire with his fingers, guiding it, sending it to do his bidding. It was a beautiful sight. I wonder what it means.
******
I think I can help him. I want him to see himself like I see him, become courageous again and fearless.
It is a daring thing to do, but today I bring the amulet to the courtyard and when we sit next to each other in the grass I place it in his hands. He looks at it and there is a flicker in his eyes, recognition maybe. Does the heart speak to him too?
Suddenly I know what to do, it is absolutely clear and eagerly I speak the words. The amulet begins to glow and his eyes grow wide, reflecting the light. In the glow and the autumn wind his hair looks like fire, like it did in my dream, and I laugh in delight.
He shudders and then he yells out. I never heard his voice before and it is hoarse from lack of use. He topples over in the grass, the amulet falling from his fingers and I quickly catch it and hide it in my clothes so they don’t find it. They are already running towards us, alarmed by the sudden commotion.
And then the man simply lifts his arms and yells at them, tears streaming down his face and fire shoots out from his fingertips. I laugh even louder in delight as the guards scatter in horror. This is the man I saw in my dreams. His hair reflects the fire surrounding his hands. He gets up on his feet and starts running, a beacon in the grey autumn air. I want to run with him, feel the wind in my hair and the ground beneath my feet as we fly out of this place and over the hills away, away, away. This is it,—today I will be free!
But one of the guards throws me to the ground and I scream and claw at him and he puts his hand on my forehead, presses my head down into the grass and says something and the world becomes black.
******
When I wake up I am back in my cell. My world is red again, a burning painful crimson.
Looking down I realize the diamond in my amulet is shattered and blackened, it doesn’t catch the light anymore. It is as dark and hollow as the eye of a corpse. Like the eyes of… No. I can’t go there. Never go there. Never remember. Some things have to stay hidden.
When purple comes I refuse to eat and on yellow they fetch me again. But their touch brings me no joy. I struggle and laugh half-heartedly but it just hurts and there is no satisfaction in their hands on my skin. Not after the man with the ocean-sky eyes and the fire-hair. Did he make it out? Will he come back to get me? Is he still running, outside beneath the stars, never looking back?
******
That night the devil pries the amulet out of my numb hands and I do nothing to stop him. The heart has been silent since the man ran away; he took its warmth with him. I am truly alone now.
******
I think my story is coming to an end. The heart hasn’t spoken again and tonight the devil will come back. My last hope of escaping this place has crumbled away between my fingers and the little cranny behind the loose brick is empty.
My resistance is crumbling and soon the demon will take me down to the bottom of the black lake. Maybe there I will find peace, although I will miss all the colors this world has to offer. Being alive is cruel and painful, but I never stopped seeing the beauty even in the chaos and the fear. The sky outside is blue and small clouds are passing by. At night they are illuminated by Catha with Ruidis watching me from far far away. And when the sun rises the sky is illuminated with all of my favorite colors: yellow, purple and blue, and I drink them as deeply as I can, to take them with me to my unknown destination deep below the water.
I hope the man with the blue eyes made it out of here. May he live the life I will never have, full of open roads and blue sky and love. Maybe he sits at the ocean right now, looking at the waves that taste just like his tears. And maybe he will think about me, and shed one in remembrance. I would like that.