The Girl in White

The meadow glowed in slow motion. Flowers bloomed, wilted, and bloomed again. He felt peace, but his chest tightened, as if mourning something already lost. She turned towards him, a faint smile, lips parting—

He opened his eyes, the ocean gently rocking him. Cold water. The taste was metallic, strange, yet grounding. A jolt he didn’t know he needed. His left eye mechanically adjusted, while his right strayed behind. Seagulls screeched with an endless bellowing, but he remained quiet and still, and was swept by nature. The cloth wrapped around his neck captured the heavy air, and a sickening stench clung to his skin. Despite his circumstances, he didn’t flinch. Not an ounce of movement.

Washed ashore, he sat up slowly, brushing sand from his sleeve.

Where… am I?

The thought surfaced slowly. Then another:

Who… am I?

Through instinct, he pulled out his right hand and looked to his palm. His head twitched, teeth clenched, capturing sand in the wind. He raised his left. It moved stiffly, metallic, unnatural. The fingers clicked shut with a quiet hiss of steam.

“...Strange.”

But his voice was steady.

He wandered without aim. The breeze tugged at the loose braid trailing over his shoulder, silver strands that caught light like threads of mercury. The tips of his boots dragged across the sand with each stride as if imitating a moving corpse. He was amiss, foreign to this land. A wanderer with no destination. But he moved forward with the hopes of finding someone… Something… Anything. He reached greenery, and a village was in sight. Just as he was about to take the next step, he heard sounds of pebbles tumbling. He looked to his left and glimpsed someone hiding behind a tree.

He reached out his hand, then stopped halfway. His mouth opened, then closed again.

“Hey… “ he finally said. “Are you someone who lives in that village?”

No response.

“Could you… No, just… Do you know where this is?”

Again, no response.

“I don’t need much. Just an answer—”

The person pushed away from the tree and started running. It was a girl… She was dressed in a white gown that echoed in the wind.

“Hey! Wait! Come back!”

His voice left him before the thought did. He didn’t know why he was running. Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone. Maybe following her was easier than standing still.

His legs moved, but his mind trailed behind.

Bare feet kicked up dirt as she darted between rocks, her gown lifting just enough to clear the ground. Her hair streamed behind her, a dark guide in the sunlight. His legs felt heavy, stumbling, but determined. She leapt across a narrow river — where he nearly lost his footing — and scattered decaying leaves into the air. They slapped his face as the wind claimed them. Windows shimmered in the corner of his eye, and the people’s chatter could be heard. Wooden shutters swung open, laundry swayed above narrow paths and a smell of smoke and bread wafted faintly from somewhere nearby. They entered the village, yet she showed no signs of stopping.

What is wrong with her…

“I just need to talk to someone!” he called out, pushing forward.

She glanced back. For a second, their eyes met. Wide. Familiar. Then she slipped into a narrow alley.

He followed, brick walls closing in on either side, shadows clinging like a second skin. She tossed bins in his way, and he skidded to a stop. His breath came hard, chest heaving. For a moment, he stood frozen, pulse pounding in his ears. Then it sank in — she was gone.

He let out a long breath. “That was… Pointless”

He scratched the back of his head, ignoring the buzz of flies near a leaking gutter, and tapped his foot repeatedly. Closing his eyes, he grunted.

I still can’t seem to remember anything…

In the midst of his complaints, he noticed he had stepped on some glass that was crushed under pressure. It was a part of a trail left behind by an object trapped under some rubbish. Kneeling down, he picked it up, flapped it a little, and inspected it further. It was a pocket watch with cogs whirring in the center behind cracked translucent glass. It still ticked, bringing a sense of calmness to him. It felt… right. Familiar, maybe. But he said nothing and spun it around. “For Lumen” was etched in small letters on the back.

Lumen? Who’s that?

 “Oi!” a gruff voice snaps behind him. “What the hell ya think ya doing with that!”