――― I saw a dream. A dream about a woman who lived in an unknown world.
The people who entered my vision weren’t starving or sick, their deaths were far from extraordinary.
When she goes home, her family is there, and when she goes to school, her friends are there. Nothing threatened the safety of her life.
It was a dream about a fantasy world.
The dreams that had stopped the moment I dropped the poisonous leaves into the soup were currently vivid in my mind.
I was confronted with the happiness and of a woman’s mediocre life; one who doesn’t know the malice of others.
It was like torture or like a sharp blade.
These memories gruesomely gouged out my soft parts.
I can’t stand the pain. I want to get rid of it. But I couldn’t resist at all, maybe because it was a dream.
I wonder if this is my hell.
The scenes that I yearned for, and was now passing off as a fantasy, were more vivid now that I’ve committed a crime that cannot be undone.
The dreams repeated over and over, as if it would go on for eternity.
I wept like I was vomiting blood in the dreams that should have been my refuge.
I wasn’t even permitted to take a moment’s rest, as long as I’m not forgiven.
And finally, that woman continues to send those memories to me.
“I’m sure you need it,” she says in a gentle voice.
“Even if you only feel anguish from these memories,” she says in a sorrowful voice.
“Don’t forget about me,” she left behind a painful and repulsive curse before crumbling.
I wasn’t permitted to dream and yet I wasn’t allowed to forget.
I couldn’t stand it anymore when her crumbling silhouette was replaced by a thin girl, and overlapped with the appearance of a bloody boy and shrieked.