“Deceiver” by Chiara Engesser

Part I

 
Sparks bursted into the deep blue night, as the the last piece of evidence for those poisonous feelings and memories was swallowed by the flames. The pain behind the black ink seemed to fuel the fire like it knew it was dying but wanted to mangle Her one more time on its last breath. Creepy shadows were dancing over her face, hardening the delicate features around her mouth, turning the soft wrinkles on her forehead into icy crevasses and her vivid eyes into onyx carriers of death.
She stared into the flames for a little longer until the page was fully burnt, then she inhaled deeply and sat down on a log of driftwood for her last rendition of the story she would thereby send to oblivion.

 
She had been an actress throughout her whole life – a provocateur, a shameless exaggerator, always flirting with drama and suspense. She needed it to express herself and persist in this stone cold world where no emotions were shown anymore. It was her way of revolting. And I loved it, too, because it made me actually feel things again. That evening I couldn’t help myself but think that she was selling the beach as her stage, the ocean as her audience and her little story as a whole play with five acts.

 

Part II

 
“I thought we’d have all the time in the world. I had heard so many stories. Where time got cut short, got killed by the world, by life and its circumstances. No matter how hard my mind argued with my heart and told me to tear away as long as I still could, it never stood a chance. Those feelings…those lies couldn’t have been deceived by the truth.”

 
Her voice was exaggeratedly epic but distant like she was lingering in the old worlds of the past. Yet her hands underlined her words with small, elegant gestures. She looked right into my face when she continued, as if it was me who haunted her in her day dreams and night depressions.

 

“Even though it overwhelmed you and almost drove you crazy, we used to gaze at the stars. At our star. The one that stood between us, connected our constellations and formed a bond that was supposed to keep us together, no matter how big the distance between us. Forever. Time seemed non-existent.

 

But stars die. What you didn’t know and I didn’t want to accept, was the fact that our star was dead and doomed from the very beginning. It only still shone for us because light takes so endlessly long to travel. But we were children together and they don’t know these things. Only my subconscious could not be fooled. Maybe that was why I refrained from looking at the night sky more and more often. I believed there was time to hide, even though anxiety and horrifying foreshadowings arose deep in me, making me hard and you bitter.

 

Yet I clearly remember that one night, blue and magnificent. Our long awaited reunion, adoring each other like the first time. Like the second time. Like all the countless times after.

 

It was a warm summer night after days of music and joy. Fireflies bathing our hearts in gold. We looked through our telescopes. Infinitely close to each other. And to our star, glowing so bright and promising, as if it was immortal.”

 

Part III

 
“And then it exploded.”

 
She jumped up. Imitated the sound of the bang, making brutish sounds. Spit into the sand. Jerked her hands into the air. A shower of sparks was shot at the sky. The flames devoured the wood mercilessly. Waves were suddenly crashing against the rocks around them and the stars were glaring aggressive and ice-cold. Her frantic pulse matched the heartbeat of the sea, chased her breath over her ripped lips way too fast.

 
“Time was up. Our entire skies were covered by this huge, ultra violent supernova.”

 

Part IV

 
When she collapsed, she looked at me. She had the eyes of a predator. One that was still fierce and full of rage but too tired to hunt. Suddenly it seemed like she had just used up all her energy, mine and her surrounding’s, making the whole world slow down. Her voice sounded idle and worn out when she ended her performance, released the last fragment of her heart and watched it rise into the dark sky, bound to the fire’s smoke and her whispers.

 

Part V

 
“Then the light was gone and everything was just dead.”