Arthur was sitting on the sofa, trying to relax himself from all the things that had happened recently. The atmosphere around him was quite positive because of the presence of Alice, his caretaker. He closed his eyes for a bit, and suddenly the comfort of the atmosphere lulled him to sleep.
Once again, he found himself in a dream. He saw the back of a girl staring at the sky, her white hair, much like Alice’s, danced in the wind. He wanted to walk toward her, but his body froze in place. He tried to speak, but no sound came out. He was petrified, unable to move or call out to her. All he could do was stand there and watch.
Suddenly, the girl spoke and turned to face him. He was surprised—her face was blurred, and her voice was muffled, as though it came from far away. He frowned, desperate to know who this mysterious figure was who kept appearing in his dreams.
“You are not supposed to be here. Go! Now!” the girl said, her tone laced with worry. This time, her words were clear, and he heard every single one.
Instantly, he woke up. The rays of the sun filtered through the window, casting patterns on the wooden ceiling. He gasped for air, trying to recover his composure. He couldn’t comprehend why this girl kept appearing in his dreams.
“Her voice… it sounds so familiar, but I don’t know whose voice it is,” he whispered to himself.
Suddenly, a woman appeared in front of him, and he hadn’t even noticed her presence. “Arthur, are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.
He looked at her. It was Alice, her face showing a deep worry. He nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. By the way, where did you go earlier?” he asked, curiosity evident on his face.
She chuckled softly. “I was invited to be a judge for a cooking contest in the market,” she said proudly.
He smiled faintly, noting the happiness in her expression. “Oh, that’s great! Who won the contest?” he asked, his curiosity still piqued.
She shook her head. “The event hasn’t started yet. It’s later today. Do you want to come and watch?” she asked, her tone inviting yet straightforward.
“Sure, why not,” he replied, agreeing to her invitation.
Alice smiled brightly and turned toward the kitchen. “Nice! I’m going to cook lunch now. After we finish eating, let’s go to the market together,” she said cheerfully.
Arthur nodded with a faint smile, watching as she walked away.
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The sound of oil sizzling filled the small, dimly lit kitchen. A young girl, about 11 or 12 years old, stood over the stove, her movements slow and deliberate. Her face was pale and expressionless, her eyes dull and lifeless like a fish’s. She bit her lip repeatedly, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to stop.
Once the food was ready, she carefully placed a small portion onto a plate. After hesitating for a moment, she cut the portion in half and placed one piece onto another plate. Her shoulders sagged as she let out a heavy sigh, trying to steady her emotions. Holding the plates, she walked toward a dark room at the end of the hall.
The room was almost pitch black, the only light coming from the faint glow of the hallway behind her. She squinted, barely able to make out the outline of the furniture. Steeling herself, she knelt down on the floor beside the bed.
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“Mama, are you hungry? The food’s ready. Please eat something,” she said softly, holding out one of the plates.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, a figure on the bed stirred, slowly sitting up. The girl could feel the tension in the air growing heavier.
Without warning, the woman’s voice erupted, shattering the quiet. “WHERE IS YOUR FATHER?!” she screamed, her voice raw with anguish. “HE TOLD ME HE WOULD COME BACK! IT’S BEEN A YEAR NOW! ALL THE OTHER SOLDIERS WHO SURVIVED HAVE RETURNED TO THEIR FAMILIES—BUT WHERE IS HE?!”
The girl bit her lip harder, her hands trembling as she clutched the plate. Her mother’s frustration was palpable, each word hitting her like a blow.
“Mama, please...” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. She sat on the edge of the bed and gently patted her mother’s back. “You need to eat, even just a little. You’re too thin. Please, Mama...”
But before she could finish, her mother’s elbow struck her face with brutal force, sending her tumbling to the floor. The plate clattered to the ground, its contents scattering.
“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, LILY! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND THE PAIN I’VE BEEN THROUGH!” her mother screamed, her voice filled with despair and fury.
Lily touched her lip, wincing as she wiped away the blood trickling down. Her hands clenched into fists, but she said nothing.
“GET OUT!” her mother bellowed, collapsing back onto the bed, her sobs muffled by the darkness.
Lily slowly got to her feet, her expression a mixture of bitterness and heartbreak. She knew she couldn’t reach her mother, not like this. Her words wouldn’t break through the wall of grief and anger.
As she stepped out of the room, her voice was barely above a whisper. “How much suffering do you want me to endure, Mama?”
Her question hung in the air, unanswered, as she walked away.
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Alice and Arthur finished eating lunch and were already on their way to the market. Arthur looked around, his expression intrigued by the sudden event in the market that even Alice was participating in.
“By the way, who’s the person who started the cooking contest?” he asked, his curiosity evident in his face.
“I think it was the mayor of the village,” Alice replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “He noticed there weren’t any extra activities here, which made the place kinda boring.”
“Who told you that?” Arthur asked immediately, meeting her gaze.
“It was Jean. Why?” she answered, tilting her head slightly.
“If the intel is coming from Jean, I suppose it’s true,” he said straightforwardly.
Alice smiled. “You really trust Jean’s gossip.” She paused and looked ahead. “Did you know she accepted Matthew’s proposal?”
“Yes, I’ve heard it from Matthew himself. He’s… a bit annoying, though,” Arthur replied with a faint sigh.
Alice’s eyebrows raised, her curiosity piqued. “Why?”
Arthur hesitated before replying. “There was never a time he wasn’t smiling. All throughout our conversation, he had this wide grin on his face.” He paused, and a faint smile crept onto his own lips. “But, I guess I’m happy for him.”
As they continued their conversation, the lively sounds of the market grew louder. The air was filled with the chatter of merchants and the clinking of goods being exchanged. Arthur’s gaze wandered to the villagers bustling about, some carrying baskets, others laughing in groups.
Ahead, a young girl caught his eye. She was struggling under the weight of a large basket filled to the brim with laundry. Her small frame wobbled slightly with each step, and her face was pale under the strain.
“Arthur, look at her,” Alice said softly, noticing the same girl.
Before either of them could react, the girl stumbled. The basket tilted, and clothes spilled onto the ground. She froze for a moment, as if deciding whether to pick them up or simply give up, but then her knees buckled.
“Alice—” Arthur began, but she was already rushing toward the girl.
Alice knelt beside her, gently cradling the young girl in her arms. “H-Hey, a-are you alright?!” she asked repeatedly, her voice filled with worry, but there was no response.
Arthur placed a reassuring hand on Alice’s shoulder. “Calm down. Let’s take her to the clinic,” he said firmly. Without waiting for a reply, he scooped the girl into his arms and began running toward the clinic.
Alice, holding the basket of laundry, followed close behind, her heart racing.