The End

The door creaked shrilly, breaking me out of my reverie.

"Why are you sitting here again?" he asked calmly, as if with tenderness, perching against the wall.

"I'm thinking," I replied after a moment. "Just don't mock me, please..." I added, seeing him open his mouth.

"You're making a romance out of it.

" "I know. I see." I sat down next to him and stared at the raw, wooden walls. "It's this melancholy.

" "What about this time?

" "I feel empty inside. Maybe it's disappointment? Regret? I don't know. I feel empty inside.

" "Because it's all attacking now. If you'd tried from the beginning... You know very well you could have.

" "I could have. And what? Now it's a bit too late.

" "Yes. Would you like something to drink?" he asked, reaching for a green, worn cube.

"What have you got?"

"Cola, green tea, mineral water, cereal coffee, coffee with milk and sugar, beer," he listed, arranging bottles and thermoses in front of me, "and... that's it.

" "Give me the tea."

He looked at me, slightly surprised, and reached for a white, plastic thermos.

"Are you sick?" he asked, pouring the steaming liquid into a cup.

"Empty inside," I replied, turning my gaze back to the wall.

He handed me a warm, plastic cup. I drank in silence for a moment, wondering when I'd last had a liquid with such a pleasant, slightly herbal, bitter taste in my mouth.

"Good," I said after a moment, staring at the tea rippling in the cup. He nodded slightly.

"You know... Maybe it's not even about disappointment anymore. Maybe it's not this degraded brain and negative genius level. I don't even think I'm depressed anymore..." I said, as if to myself, rocking the cup of tea. "I just feel strangely sad." Because I know they'll all be there together. And I'll be somewhere else. Alone. Even though I wanted to be with them. You might misunderstand me, but it's really hard to rejoice in someone else's happiness while suffering your own misery.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him watching me quite closely.

"Maybe I really am sick?" I glanced at him. He was sad. He held out a white handkerchief embroidered with dark green leaves.

"But I'm not going to cry!" I protested, feeling a tear roll down my cheek.

"Life never gives us what we expect," he said in a calm, velvety voice, pressing the handkerchief into my hand. "But different doesn't necessarily mean worse, don't forget that. Remember what he told you then! "

I sighed quietly, tying the two corners of the handkerchief together.

"It won't work, you understand? It won't work. I know that...

" "But that's still not a good reason to hang out here. Especially with the holidays approaching.

" "I'm grateful for holidays like this...

" "You're whining again."

- I'm leaving here.

"And rightly so. Come back when something really serious happens. When you really have to sit here."

I walked slowly to the door, brushing away a few cobwebs along the way.

"It could use some tidying up," I said, staring at the footprints on the dusty floor.

He chuckled softly.

"That's your department. I'm not going to tidy up in your head. I can show you around.

" "There's not much to...

" "You'll be surprised someday. Go.

" "But I'll come back again," I said, opening the door and turning to face him. He looked funny, sitting cross-legged against the rotting wall, surrounded by colorful bottles and thermoses. His eyes held something I couldn't fathom. Something inhuman..." "For tea."

I managed to catch a faint smile on his face before I closed the door behind me.

A dream, a dream. A strange dream.