What? She thinks it's another Freudian slip? Definitely not. "Please give him my best. He should mind his own business."
She continues to stare at me, unfazed. She's doing this on purpose. But she can save herself the effort ofapplying this kind of pressure. I quickly finish painting the three nails left for their second coat.
"And I also have to take care of my own things," I say. Then I make my way to my room as quickly as possible.
"Come on, Pippi. I just want you to be happy," Elina calls after me, but I don't respond.
Overwhelmed by sudden fatigue, I close the door behind me and approach the small window, through which I can only see the dirty gray walls of the neighboring house. I crouch on the windowsill and try to push Elina's stories out of my mind. Yet a familiar sadness engulfs me.
It's like a dark monster that crawls out from under the bed whenever I'm too weak to fight its overpowering presence.
It's so quiet here. So terribly quiet.
No cheerful children's laughter or bustling activity surround me.
Only Elina's words reside within me. Alongside the monster, they keep me company, painting pictures in my mind that I don't want to see.
Even when you're alone, you'll never be lonely as long as you carry love in your heart.
My father's loving tone echoes warmly and deeply within me. But no matter what he says, the truth is that I not only feel the loneliness inside me but I can barely bear it anymore. Suddenly, my legs do something they shouldn't.
They walk toward the bed.
In a trance-like state, my hand opens the nightstand drawer and reaches for the golden box with intricately crafted rainbow-colored ornaments. My fingers gentlystroke the uneven surface. Tears well up in my eyes, turning the music box into a prism.
I want to open it.
To drive away the loneliness inside me. To feel, just for a moment, the way I used to.
Safe.
Seen.
Loved.
My chest tightens in spasms, and I sob.
Open it, Maya.
No. I must not do that. Because if I open this little box, nothing will ever be the same again. The past will not only catch up with me, no, it will also devour me along with everything I still have.
I try to take a deep breath. I fail. That's why it's crucial that I store the music box where I can't see it.
With a wooden movement, I slam the drawer shut.
This is better. And it will always be better this way.
