The Shadow That Smiled At Me

Chapter two

The sharp rays of the morning sun blinded me. I blinked my eyes to regain my sight and focus on the world around me. I woke up still sitting in the window of my room, leaning my head against the glass. I turned my head to the right, my throat hurt. I tried to move, my whole body was bruised and sore. Every movement was a struggle. I whimpered softly in pain as I tried to stand up. The book I fell asleep with was now lying on the floor. I reached for it, and every bone in my body cracked.

I slowly got to my feet, which immediately disappointed me. They were like jelly, refusing to take a step. They refused to stand. I fell to the ground. I hit myself a little, but compared to the pain that had been cutting into my body since waking up, I didn't even notice.

I stayed lying down. Rolled onto my back and stared into the blank space at the ceiling. I was thinking about that dream....... about Samael. It was so strange. I felt like I was in a bubble, in some kind of illusion, but at the same time, it all seemed so real. Every touch, every sound, the smell of old books or the warmth radiating from the fire. It felt so real. I could feel it even now.

And he? The way he walked, the way he talked. I was like wrapped in a sweet rope that he used to pull me closer. His smile, his eyes – oh those eyes. I have never seen anything like it in my life - and more beautiful. The golden glow in them mesmerized me. I was like in a whirl that was pulling me deeper and deeper.

In the end, however, I got out of it.

The morning saved me and I escaped.

I remember what he said about my dreams, how I fall off a cliff night after night. I'd been groping for the invisible hand for over a year and suddenly there he was. He stood there, caught me and pulled me to him. He drew me into his world - as he said. I see it. He's there. That's how it started last night. I remember.

That dream has changed.

I didn't fall.

What has happened?

How did he know that? Stupid question. It's just a dream created by my subconscious. He knows what's in my head. They're one. From one hurricane of chaos. What I know, he knows. It was just a dream.

It's all just dreams.

And yet there was something different about this one. I can still see it so vividly as he holds me in his arms, as he burns me with his golden gaze. How I found myself in that cold stone corridor. I hear that voice calling my name. I'm standing in front of those massive double doors leading to the library. I'm running away. I can still feel how fast my heart was beating at that moment, how fast I was breathing. The sound of my heels on the floor drifting through the air and fading into oblivion. A tangle of corridors without end.

I tell myself that it was just a dream, one of many that people all over the world suffer at night. It was just a dream. It was just a dream, I repeated to myself. But something inside told me otherwise.

My body was tired as if I had just run a marathon. I was tired as if I hadn't slept all night. However, that is not possible. It was just a dream. Nightmare. One of the hundreds of dreams that mankind has dreamed. I do not want and will not listen to those voices trying to put me in a madhouse. No! It was just a dream. It crept into my mind at night, as dreams do, and in the morning vanished like a mist. It was just a dream. Nothing more.

Despite the reluctance of my ruined body and the resignation of my spirit, I stood up or rather crawled to the bathroom. I turned on the hot water, from which hot steam rose, filling the bathroom, slightly obscuring the view. I threw off yesterday's clothes, in a pile on the floor, and climbed into the shower under the hot water. I needed to wash off the last twenty-four hours. Not just the dream or what it actually was, but also the whole birthday.