A complete tiny grey sphere, disguised giant and white and surrounded on all sides by millions of pinpricks, stared at you from far above, as you stood on your balcony, entranced in its suspicious beauty.
The full moon had had this effect on you for as long as you could remember. In fact, it never goes away; it always stays intact. It’s there every night, watching and waiting. This may sound crazy, but you know it’s watching you. You can sense it. What’s it waiting on? Now that’s the mystery.
But this was how it was every night. Around three AM, you would wake up and go to the balcony, then just stare. It wasn’t that you saw something necessarily, but that you knew eventually something would appear. And then on the third night something did appear. Her name was Ola.
She always looked around your age and height, and had stringy black hair that seemingly melted into the black wedding gown she adorned. This coupled with her sickly pale, cracked skin and black soulless eyes should’ve made you want to sprint back inside, lock the door and never step foot on that balcony again. But you weren’t scared. Even before the night she first appeared, you’d seen her before, in your dreams.
When you slept, her attire was the same. You were in a church, both standing at the altar, and you were completely naked. The two of you weren’t alone, but the other person wasn’t a priest. As a matter of fact, the person almost didn’t seem to exist. Only they did, a white shadow of a form that felt masculine, with tons of tiny black dots covering him.
You stood in between Ola and the other person, Ole, not facing either one of them, but the front of the church. They faced either side of your head, and each other.
The room was void of emotion. Both Ola and Ole repeatedly whispered into your ears. They both spoke the same three word phrase repetitively, no passion or personality behind it.
This is you.
Over and over again the words entered both of your ears until they eventually began to speak louder and faster, and you began to fade away. And then you were gone. With your absence, both Ola and Ole immediately stopped talking and sharply turned to face the front of the church. That ended the dream.
You’d had that dream, and went on that balcony, every night for the last ten years. You remember no night before that first one.
Every night Ola’s visit was the same. She would appear suddenly, hovering in the air next to the banister. You would then join her in the air and the two of you would talk. Or rather, she would talk, and you would listen.
This is you. she would whisper over and over again in your ear. When she finished, she would, with dry, cracked ashy white lips, kiss you on the cheek before giving you a warm, literally toothless, smile. She had no tongue.
After the smile, it would be morning and you’d be waking up, no memory of going back to bed. But you just went throughout my day not thinking about what happened at night.
After all, the closer you look, the less you see.