published at 05.03.2025
The thing was looking at me.
Observing each one of my movements with an almost animalistic awareness. Tilting its head, it forced me to witness every single imperfection, every wound upon its skin. The thing was contorting itself, changing. I think it was trying, with a grimace utterly artificial and hideous to smile at me.
Shaking my head, I attempted to remove the image from my retina.
I put away my toothbrush, poured water on my coarse skin, dried myself off and began massaging the ends of my hair while leaving the bathroom and grabbing my breakfast. Half aware, I looked out into a dreary sky, where the sun made no attempt to break through the gray smog. After the last drop of bitter tea moistened my lips. I grabbed my grey, worn-out messenger bag, put on my smudged boots, dark coat and headed towards the train station.
The piercingly cold air embraced me, flowing across my skin and spitting me in front of it. I walked past the ill, the disenfranchised and the homeless, all seeking respite and warmth in one of the few public spaces untouched by the hostile autumn air. Arriving in time for the overflowing train to welcome me, I quickly pushed myself in together with all the other critters.
Luckily my music was blaring just loud enough to drown out my thoughts until I arrived in the inner city.
The flood of people pouring out dragged me along with them, up the stairs, further and further. After all the library was quite the march away, and my music was still asphyxiating all the gossip surrounding me.
Until it very suddenly stopped.
The flow of street conversations moved faster than its people and was only interrupted by a tiny ringing noise in my head.
"Hi, how are you, my dear?" her voice rang with manufactured happiness.
Dread shot through my entire body. I was not ready to debate about the liberties of my existence on this street, at this time, with this person.
"Good, what's up?" I responded.
Not listening to the same answer for the millionth time, she cut in, "Oh, are you eating and sleeping enough? How is exercise going? I heard you still haven't organized the gift for your cousin yet, like we agreed on. Have you at least looked for someone to bring-"
I already wasn't listening to her onslaught of questions and judgmental remarks.
I had since stopped in my tracks, gravitating towards the silent alleys.
"Your father and I have been quite worried about you. Are you sure you don't want to talk with our friend? He could really help you. I think it would help if you toned your, ehm, you know, down just a bit when you are with us. You would definitely help your father. I went through something similar, when I was your age. I was so caught up with all my worries and responsibilities I lost sight of what's really important. Which is why I recommend you get out of your bubble. It's not good for you, to just keep talking and surrounding yourself with the same kinds of people. You could maybe start seeing things in a different light. Personally it helped me to meet your farther, he got me out of the hole I had manoeuvred myself in. Have you found someone to bring with you to your cousin's wedding yet?" Her bombardment continued until I found a gap in the onslaught:
"Thanks, but no. All my life is being taken up by exams. I hardly have the time to do anything else." It wasn't a lie, but there sure as hell were some "interesting" people, as she would call them, in my life. I just did not wish for her comment on the "kind of people" I choose to connect with.
"I know you don't like it, but you need to understand we had to take a more drastic approach if you weren't going to be cooperative. If you really want to be independent, you can always choose to do so, but we will not support you in choices we know to be wrong. Especially if that means funding your harmful endeavors."
My breathing quickened, and I began to shake violently. Clutching my phone until my hand turned white.
"You know we are very worried. Worried that you will vanish once you graduate. We just love you so much."
Her voice was filling more and more with desperation.
Like so often, it seemed like less of a plea, more a demand to not just see their perspective, but to follow their ideals.
"We just want the best for you. We don't want you going down this dark path. We just can't support you in things like this, since we know you will live to regret it. It is our responsibility to protect you after all." Her words were like knives screeching across glass.
I wanted to scream and shout at her, but that would only lead to more guilt, more influence on them upon my life. Instead I attempted to respond as diplomatically and carefully as I could muster:
“I know what you mean. Don't worry. I won't rush into anything. Nevertheless, I would appreciate it if you gave me the space to live my life as I decide."
Sweat was rolling down my face.
I do not know if she meant what she said next in earnest: "Thank you for your promise, my dear. Remember we are family. I am looking forward to seeing you at the wedding, and our promise to support you financially if you choose to talk with our friend still stands."
On that note, I ended the phone call. I felt the sweat pooling all over my body, sinking into my clothes. I started running. Anywhere would have been better. I just wanted to flee.
It felt like my individual limbs were breaking more and more apart with each step.
Sharp pain was entering my skull, my feet, my heart, everything was burning, and so was my mind.
Her words still rang louder than any piece on the floor.
It should be reasonable, I was practically overflowing with inexperience. I owed it to them to follow their guidance.
I tried to run from my poisonous and self-destructive thoughts, but all I could do was stumble along, seeking support in the facades of the surrounding buildings.
The awareness of my hair, scrunchy and dry, not like it was supposed to be added upon the weight.
Screaming for any kind of help, nothing came out of my throat besides senseless creaking.
The cars down the road were tempting me to escape from my bodily prison.
I needed to distract myself.
Pulling out my phone I glanced upon the thing in the reflection and the boundless duties left on read.
Like splitting seams, my body wished to tear itself apart.
I tumbled uncontrollably further and further down unventured alleys.
Totally lost and out of breath, I slid down on one wall onto the wet stone ground.
The phone call had sealed my fate. I had until spring to decide if I could face my family in my current predicament, if I followed their demands, or if I ran away.
Otherwise it would be almost certain my parents would cut all of their funding.
How does one bear the burden of studying in a big and expensive city while already working part time? Past me certainly had not accounted for this possibility, when deciding on a university to study at. Dreadful thoughts were filling my head and shaking my body. I lost the ability to cry a long time ago, so no tears were infringing on my sight. On the other side of the tight street stood a building I had never seen before.
The windows were tinted in rainbow colours, and one could hear the rich flow of unique conversations from within.
I needed to stop my descent.
Since I was already clinging to pieces of myself, I quickly heaved my revolting form on its feet and hurriedly assembled what could be described as a presentable outside.
Carefully moving in a way to avoid seeing my reflection in the cafe's windows, I approached the door with the utmost fear.
My mind was fully occupied with pushing away everything, which resembled self-destruction.
So the prospect of social interaction presented itself as everything but appealing.
Still, I couldn’t break apart on some street corner.
As each step shook my being once more, I pushed open the solid wooden door.
I was subsequently overwhelmed by the sultry mix of lavender and coffee in the air.
People were gathered around all kinds of different tables, which did not seem capable of carrying all the weight suspended upon them. The visitors sat and laid, deep in conversation, on a lot of colourful and pillowy furniture. The only space not completely taken up by people was a small path from the door to the dark wooden counter.Behind it stood a flowery and impressive woman, with a dark purple apron, multiple silver piercings, and a well-kept afro.
"Hi there, how may I help you?" The barkeeper's voice rang warm and deep.
"Yeah, ehm, hi. Could I maybe get something to drink?"
"Yes, of course. What would you like? I serve all kinds of fun drinks. You could take a look at the menu."
Silence fell for an uncomfortable moment, before my brain kicked in again:
"May I have a glass of tea?"
"Sure, what kind would you like?" she asked further.
My terrible conversational abilities carried on further and further like this before I was guided towards the only corner of the room, where a semblance of space and peace was left.
Probably only because the various netizens of this part were too engaged with their notebooks and laptops to expand into their surroundings.
I was sinking into some comfortable and colourful pillows. Until, after a while, the nice lady returned with a steamy glass cup and a teabag, full of lavender blossoms.
„I assure you many people come here exhausted like you. So there is absolutely no need to worry.
We‘ll make sure to properly take care of you.“
The nice lady said while she gave me my cup.„Mhm, thank you.“ My absentminded response seemed to reassure her.
I rested the cup on a small three-legged desk next to me.
My panic was slowly dying down, and in its place remained only existential dread and fear.
It might have been the time to logically think through my situation.
But my previous panic attacks had wrung me so dry, there was nothing left of me to analyze my predicament.
I was ready to simply escape somewhere else.
The tea made me drowsy and drift off to my lethargic sleep.
I dreamt of solemn and peaceful grass fields in nowhere.
It was a peaceful type of life. Shifting further and further into nonexistence.
Yet simultaneously, some sharp pain was drilling into the back of my head.
In hopeless attempts, I tried to remain in my calm dream.
Until the pain became unbearable, and I sprang awake into dark emptiness.
Still sitting in the soft embrace of my pillowy safety, it was now almost deafeningly quiet and just as dark.
The only light in the entire room radiated from the tiny flame of a candle on the counter and a pair of bedazzling yellow orbs behind it.
I heaved up my body, careful not to break any part of me or my surroundings.
"My, my, who has returned from their slumber, without a hero in sight?" This voice had none of the softness and warmth of the barkeeper. It rang cold and calculated through the space.
"Uahh - sorry, for, ehm, falling asleep in your cafe! I hope I haven't caused too big of an inconvenience. I would - uh make my way back home now. I am so very sorry for causing you such trouble," I fumbled words into a semi-coherent order while my mind was still trying to figure out why it was where it found itself, why it was this dark, and who it was talking to.
Failing to orient myself, I slowly approached the front desk. The woman’s radiant eyes were a shining beacon in the darkness.
"Oh, don't you worry, my dear, it was nothing. I did take some liberties caring for your resting body, but nothing too different from before you entered my humble establishment. Just so you know, you are quite welcome to return to this here place if you ever find yourself in need of respite."
The bartender's words did little to quell my confusion, so I simply ignored her remarks, turned around, and shoved open the wooden door with my body.
Subverting my expectations, I did not stumble onto some dark and forgotten side street but rather the wild dance of colours and noises on a bustling road. Waves of people were flowing joyfully through a broad pedestrian area.
The streets were paved by cobble, painted in all kinds of warm colours by warm streetlights and little flames on torches and stands.
I stormed off towards a random direction, turning street corners, in the hope to find myself somewhere even remotely familiar. My efforts were undoubtedly in vain, when even my phone was unable to show me my location let alone a way back home.
I could not call my friends, my colleagues, not even my parents and I started trembling again.
There was no way to get in contact with anyone. I had no idea where I was walking aimlessly.
Exhausted and overwhelmed by the myriad intense smells, numerous blinding lights, and enthralling conversations, I found myself once again by the only semblance of familiarity. I ventured back into the cafe, which was doused in light again.
It was just as the first time, packed full with various creatures and smelling like fresh lavender.
I flew towards the counter.
"What did you do?! Where did you take me?!" I was furious for answers.
The barista answered calmly, "Oh my dear, what has brought this storm upon my humble establishment? If you so desire, I could serve you some calming tea to help your nerves."
I was taken aback by the answer—why was she so blatantly ignoring me?
"What did you do to me? Where am I?"
It was only then that I fully realized the person in front of me was strikingly different from the barkeeper from before.
She still had the same dark curly hair, the silver piercings, the clean mahogany skin and the impressive physical figure.
Yet I remained quite convinced that prior to our last exchange, she did not boast two pairs of enormous and simultaneously delicate indigo wings.
Their patterns enthralled me, piercing deep through my surface.
"Oh darling, you must have had me confused with one of my sisters. I am oh so sorry. They have the horrible habit of playing with innocent little dolls like you."
"Excuse me?! What are you even talking about?"
The strange woman's wings motioned around her body over her head, towering over me.
I began to notice more details. The woman's toned upper body culminated in her welcomingly warm head with two thin and feather-like feelers, and her real eyes seemed to stare right through me, making me feel more like prey than a person.
"I am very sorry if this is insensitive, but why do you ehm look like ehm, a butterfly?" The words stumbled out of my mouth before I could properly think them through.
This was exactly the type of question I am pretty sure you were never supposed to ask.
"Ha ha, oh my, you really don't know? My dear I am so sorry. I was unaware of the actions of my sisters. You see, even despite it being the harvest festival I am not dressed up, as you called it."
As a way to demonstrate that fact, she started waving her wings, tilting her feelers.
They were real, or at least appeared to be so.
I must have been on some heavy stuff.
"Oh and don't you worry. I am pretty sure you aren't high.
Nevertheless, I would recommend you rest up for today. Most people who aren't from here take some time to adjust and I would go so far to presume you don't have anywhere to stay? If you want, you can always stay with me for a little while. I am always in need of assistance with the cafe and I have nothing against adopting a stray as cute as you."
"Oh no I have an apartment back in— " My past failure to find my way back home caught up with me. I was lost, somewhere unfamiliar, probably high on drugs and there was this nice lady answering all my questions. I
Every part of me still able to conduct basic reasoning was still furious and revolting against the idea, but I suddenly felt just so tired. So tired of the world, which kept pushing me down, so tired of my parents, my work and everything. Going back home could wait a single day.
"Mhm, Yes of course, thank you for your help. I am happy to assist with anything I can!" I am unsure if that response was supposed to assure her or myself.
"Ah yes, of course my dear. The first thing you will need to do is rest. There is a guest bed in the back, you can wait there until I am finished with everything here. We can discuss the details later." Sheepishly I walked through the small door behind the counter into a warm little hallway, at the end of which I found the room I had been instructed to wait in.
I was convinced to stay awake until further explanation, but as soon as my body rested on the comfortable mattress and the cotton sheets I fell asleep.
The next morning I awoke in a daze. My mind is still filled with senseless dreams and fears.
Pulling out my phone almost instinctively, I still had no reception and my charge had dwindled to almost nothingness.
I looked around and on the Nightstand next to me sat a pile of clothing, a glass of water and a note.
"Put on the uniform and come to the front. I will explain everything you need there - Love Vespia"
From the shirt to the socks everything fit me eerily well.
The long and dark cotton skirt was flowing along with each step, while the overalls hugged my chest tightly. Feeling like a dress-up doll, I carefully approached Vespia.
"Oh my dear, you look so cute in these! And your blush is so pretty as well!"
I could not believe I agreed to work for her and sleep in her house with little to no information,
it struck me as even more unbelievable that I had in fact not been kidnapped.
"You are so incredibly cute, but first things first.
I am Vespia, the owner of this establishment and I am here to teach you everything I can."
"Yes, uh, hello-
My name is Psepa, I uh-
Where are we again? Why does everything look so strange? Could you tell me where I need to go to get back home?"
"Oh, I am so sorry, my dear. I am afraid you are far away from home.
I would be lying if I said I could help you home.
Nevertheless, you are welcome to remain here, work for me and gather your things."
I looked down at my phone:
Still no reception;
I looked out of the window:
A fantastical european city, weaved from all different kinds of colourful vendors and brick buildings;
I looked back at the dazzling woman:
Her vibrant wings and hypnotizing eyes.
Yet, it wasn't her appearance that convinced me to stay:
"you are welcome to stay here"
For the first time in a long time, I felt my breathing steady.
"Ok, yes, what do I need to know?"
With a wide grin on her face, she led me around her cafe, showing me where all the cups, silverware and drinks were. Even though I did a terrible job pouring and serving almost all drinks the first couple of times she was incredibly patient with me.
Over time the crowds of people slowly started flowing out of the cafe and
After I started figuring out what, when and where to do everything I was supposed to I even had enough time and mind left to listen in on small shreds of conversation.
There was a pair of young adults sitting in one corner arguing with each other.
A fierce girl with a long set of horns, bright red hair and a fitting devilish grin was apparently teasing her friend:
"Come ooooan , tell me why you dragged me all the way out here. It's the fifth time you have invited me to cute, totally not dates. So tell me, what do you have to say for yourself."
The other girl's anxiety was radiating all the way to me.
Maybe it would have been less obvious if her catlike tail weren't moving with enough intensity to stir up all of the dust I forgot to sweep up before.
I left the catgirl to fend for herself and turned my attention to a group of stern and serious looking people, who had been continuously ordering caffeinated drinks for over an hour.
"You know, I think I have an idea we haven't tried before", whispered the most dishevelled man of the group to the others.
"I think it's not just the type and order of tokens, which have an impact on the outcome, but also the manner in which we recite them. I have experimented upon this hypothesis myself. Although, I must admit it is hard to quantify, I have observed a positive correlation between the fervence of my performance and the manifested changes."
He kept on rambling enthusiastically, while pointing towards his long dark horns piercing through his short curly locks.
The people sitting closest to him seemed to have been glued on his lips, while most overs were simply observing with a calculating expression glued to their faces.
I was just done washing the last couple of dishes when I felt a hand lightly resting upon my shoulder.
"So darling, how was your first shift?"
"Oh, I guess, kind of fun?"
"Wonderful! I must say, for your first day, you did not do terribly.
Since, work isn't everything I think we shall leave it at that for today. I got you some money and a map. I hope you enjoy yourself in the city, but I highly recommend you come back before sunset."
I shoved her gifts into my pockets and stumbled in the direction of the doorway, where I followed the,
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STORY TO BE BUILT
I pressed my mother's call away.
She would have had nothing to say I hadn't heard before.
My music was blaring, the traffic was roaring and the crowd was flowing.
Yet still, walking to the library was tainted with uncomfortable silence.
"It certainly wasn't the expected or morally correct thing to do." I thought to myself.
There was justification in my choice. Sending yourself out there to face emotional abuse and manipulation is not easy and when I am not ready for it I have learned to let the topic rest for just a bit. Until I am ready to face it again.
Arguing in my head like this took me all the way into the library, to the Computer science section where I collected the couple of books I still needed for my bachelors thesis, but my thoughts weren't with my thesis or even the question of doing my masters.
Every cell of my body was still trembling when thinking about that phone call.
My brain was rushing through possible wort case scenarios to assure me everything would be well.
Even if my parents disowned me, kicked me out of the apartment they so generously provided for me to study.
Even if I had to pay all my bills by myself, my savings could last me until I finished my bachelor and got a job, probably.
The sweat from my heads was being absorbed into my books.
I know this wasn't a binary choice between my automony and my family, but it sure as hell felt like one.
I hadn't realized it, but I started crying.
It was just so unfair. I had been living a privilaged life, without drama, without tragedy and with enormous amounts of loves from all sides.
So why was it that now, only now, when I was supposed to be more independent than ever, that everyone seemed to know what was the correct way to live my life?
Not before long I found myself in one of the bathroom stalls.
This was not my first breakdown in a public building and I could handle it.
You can unhealthily stall such a deteriorating emotional state in three easy steps:
1. Take a long deep breath through your nose
2. Breathe out through your mouth
3. Swallow
Afterwards I got out of the bathroom stall, wiped the ruined mascara out from under my eyelids and walked back home.
The following days had been largely uneventful, I continued dodging my parents with transparently poor excuses.
It was approximately half past 11 in the evening and I had been working on my essays without pause, when I heard a pleasant phone jingle.
Julia's voice, rang with sweetness of a slushy only interrupted by infrequent crunches in the line:
"Haiiiiii Psepa, you free tomorrow? Me an' the others are headin' out to Corries at 8. If you want, we meet up at my house."
STORY TO BE BUILT
STORY TO BE BUILT