Just at night… when the rain was dancing on the street and the wind was singing its high pitch song, she was just lying on the bed thinking of nothing. Nothing… nothing came to mind. The darker tones of the night where luring her to go to the Dreamland. The grey sky cover with an orange motives of invisible in that rainy night moon were looking through her curtains calmly whispering a lullaby. Yet she still hasn’t been sleeping. Everything was a reminder about sleep and night and dreams, but she was still awake.

And the time was passing and her heart was beating with the clock. With her opened eyes looking and the mute and thoughtless wall she fixed her sight on the barely visible photos.

“Good night”, - she said.

And with the smile on her face she listened to the whispers of the darkness. And with a calming although stormy lullaby she started sleeping dreaming of the rain.

#sleep

#night

#romance

- I can manage...

hell...

I don’t care at all.

Who even needs them?

And I would definitely never do anything like that.

They are so pathetic...

Her mind was speaking while disgusted mirror was displaying her soul - so asymmetrical to the thoughts.

Fake promises turned into unchangeable lie to oneself.

Nevertheless, while life was hitting harder and harder she never stopped lying to herself.

The mirror didn’t manage and broke down.

Clickety-clack… clickety-clack… clickety-clack…

The sounds were absorbing the inside atmosphere of the classic train running into somewhere. Someone stayed in the compartment enjoying the scene outside the window. The others were engaged into useless exchange of words. And someone just existed inside that dead piece of heavy machinery.

He was none of them. He was… who was he, really?

The man was sitting in his compartment alone. He didn’t pay attention to anything that was going on and no one would pay attention to him. He was sitting alone with his frozen heart in the left hand, squeezing it like that was the only hope left in the whole world. He was thinking about something, when there was a knock at the door – deaf, determining knock. At least he thought like that.

- May I come in? – the woman asked.

- Yes… well… as you wish… – he answered with a bit of confusion being undesirable to pronounce any word.

A moment of silence captured the compartment and it seemed like there were only them in the whole universe. Something was bothering him: she was so familiar. Her voice sounded somewhere, her look was following something, her stature – hell, her stature seemed so his, so everything that he ever wanted. Who is she? Who is that extremely familiar but so unknown woman? He had to know, he had to ask, and he had to gather all his emptiness to fill his curiosity: who that woman was.

- Do you know me? – the man asked.

- I do. We met on this train, - with abandon answered the woman.

- When? I do not remember you. When did we meet?

And extremely comfortable silence filled a compartment for a very short moment.

- It was years ago… the same train, the same direction, the same siting position. You were always here, sitting with your frozen heart.

- You must be mistaken. It’s my first time traveling in that train.

I guess, he would shout at that moment if he could, but he was still empty. The conversation continued with the explanation provided by calm and peaceful woman’s voice.

- 2nd of July, 2016, almost 3 year ago. You were here waiting for your woman who broke up with you. You were alone. You were desperate. You were dying. Actually, that’s why she left you, because you were dying.

- And did I? Did I die?

- Yes, on this very place. You asked me to come to you every time and fill your loneliness.

- And why am I holding frozen heart? And who are you? Are you my death?

- I guess your heart is a symbol of how you felt that day, when your woman left you. And me? You’ll get it soon. Don’t be in rush while having all the time in the Universe.

- Well… I don’t feel anything, and I don’t remember anything but I want to thank you for filling my loneliness.

- Hmm, honestly, I think it was my punishment.

- Punishment? To stay here? To come here every time to me? If you are a death, how can you be punished?

- I wish you could remember me… I wish I didn’t have to tell that story anymore. You had no idea, but that day, I was running to you – to apologize. I thought I was flying, I thought there was just me, and I thought that I will manage… and I kinda managed, since I’m with you. I did manage to catch that train, but instead of being inside – my life was given to the rails. But, hell… I still managed.

I managed to catch you here...

17th of October, 2008 - we first met being alive. And it was 2nd of July, 2016 when our dead souls were bonded together.

I’m your woman – the one who abandoned you…

I’m your loneliness – the one who keeps you company…

I’m your death – the one brought us together forever…

She turned the key, entered the apartment and felt sweet and pungent smell of a chicken. “Anastasia cooked apparently”, - she thought and went to her room. The girl opened the door and, for a moment, stood motionless looking at the empty place surrounded by walls wrapped with green and somewhat funny wallpapers. Little ducklings, cheering ladybugs and small colorful hearts on a light green background were greeting her every time she was entering the room. They didn’t lighten her mood though.

Like a doll moved by a puppeteer the girl put down her bag, took off her coat and two shiny, silver necklaces: one presented by her mother and the other – in the form of flower with a little ruby in the middle – was from HIM. She sat on the bed and started remembering why she was so reluctant to go home.

HE wasn’t in the room anymore. He wasn’t there to greet her, and a symbolic sofa they were sleeping on was now folded, staying speechless in the corner of the room. And it wasn’t just about sofa – every piece of furniture contained their memories. Too high chair to sit on, which they were using as a stand for a computer was reminding about her “hey, please, don’t tickle me… ha-ha-ha… I might kick the laptop accidentally”. Scratched and weather-worn umbrella was expressing an abundant walks under the rain: “my love, hurry, the rain is getting heavier”. However, the sofa was something more: “Love, do you want my pillow?”, “Kalimera, my angel, do you want some coffee?”, “How about some sandwiches? I know that my baby is hungry”.

Everything in the room was reminding her of the love of her life.

There was no “Welcome home, love” anymore, no “How was your day, my angel?”, no “I missed you so much, matakia mou omorfa”… He was Greek and every time he was addressing her in his language she felt like the words were coming from the deepest corners of his heart.

With all those thoughts, a shrill, piercing noise broke out of her mouth and it seemed that the rain overtook her in the room making her face wet and gloomy. The moments of lust, love and laugh were passing in front of her already red eyes – the pain got bigger. Somehow, a dark emptiness made the girl unwillingly stand up, change her clothes and go to the kitchen to grab a piece of cold and greasy pizza left from yesterday. It’s been an hour since she’s back home…

The girl was sitting on the bed trying to finish that not entirely fresh pizza. A laptop was laying on the chair and the umbrella was resting in peace from their last walk under the rain. She felt cold... The girl stood up, grabbed a pen, wrapped herself with the ink-stained blanket and with another wave of emotions started writing: “I turned the key, entered the apartment and felt the distracting smell of well-cooked chicken…”

I have come. Please, enjoy it –

You’ve got the permission for evil:

You can hit, you can kill, just destroy it.

Nice to meet you. Forever – your demon.

Don’t do anything, stop, just be lazy.

You’re welcome to murder your love.

Just go wild, unemotional, crazy.

It’s for you. You deserve it – your crown.

Put it on when you lie, don’t forget it;

Put it on when hypocrisy time.

And don’t think that sometimes you’ll regret it.

Go ahead. Start committing your crimes.

Look at me. I am evil – your friend.

Take my hand: you will feel all the fire.

Don’t be scared, our fun will not end,

I just want you to feel that desire.

Do you feel boiling blood from the madness?

Do you feel that emotional wrack?

That indifference over useless sadness…

Please… observe… you’re turning black.

But still… I don’t think you should stop.

There are many hearts to be broken;

There are many tears not dropped;

There are many lies still unspoken.

You are free to be angry and evil.

Don’t be shy, it’s your crime. Just be proud.

Just a little bit left to be devil –

Please, destroy over there that crowd.

Those, on the right side, make hopeless,

Those, on the left, break their souls.

Be merciless, cruel and stopples.

Make them beg, make them cry, make them crawl.

From now on it’s your everyday duty.

You’re dark; you’re shadow; you’re evil.

Endless suffering are, forever, your beauty.

Welcome here, from now on you’re demon.

In your world of madness, you're never alone...

Let’s make them cry together.

Let’s break their hearts together.

Let’s wreck their hopes together.

So then, I will be able to break YOU, to torture you and show that in this world of madness you’re truly never alone.

Always yours…

Your Demon.