I AM YOU, AND YOU ARE ME.

Written by: C.H.

Once upon a time, there was a world that had lost all but one to time.

A loner girl who did not know the warmth of others, yet longed for it still.

One day, she beheld her reflection in the water and had a thought:

“If the person on the other side were to come over here…I would no longer be alone”

It was a simple and childish wish.

Yet the girl poured her everything into that wish.

Seconds.

Minutes.

Hours.

Days.

Months.

Years.

Decades.

Centuries.

Millennium.

The girl created many ‘selves’ as time tick-tocked away.

One made of wood.

One made of clay.

One made of porcelain.

And, one made of plastic.

She crafted those ‘selves’ without end.

Dolls that were her very splitting image that even moved as she might.

Yet it was not enough for the girl.

For while the dolls could move, it was only when she manipulated them to do so.

A ‘self’ that had their own thoughts and moved of their own will--- the girl labored without end to bring such a ‘self’ into the world.

Until at last… she was finally able to fulfil her wish.

A beautiful doll created in the girl’s own image and dressed in trim of seven colours.

Upon seeing its eyes open for the first time, the girl voiced the first greeting in her life.

>Girl: Hello, dear dreamer.<

However, the doll could only stare in silence, for it did not know of words.

So the girl smiled--- deeply and widely from the bottom of her heart.

For even if the doll did not know of words, it should know of smiles.

That was what the girl thought, or rather, wished for.

>Girl: You must have so many questions. So let me show you. Your naught and nil. My all fulfilled.<

Taking the doll’s hand in hers, the girl turned to the water’s surface where two reflections rippled like the turning of a tale’s pages, the jostling of an upended bookmark.

>Girl: Myself, monochrome, of seven colours. I am you, you are me.

The puppet, the puppeteer, no more. I am you, and you are me.<

Words spoken with a smile.

They carried meaning the doll could not grasp.

Yet somehow, the doll felt it understood.

>Girl: This beautiful world I’ve always longed to share with someone…

Won’t you come and play with me?<

The world had not changed by the doll entering it.

Yet to the girl, it felt like the world she had known for time immemorial had been reborn.

It was a life the girl had only been able to dream of.

She showed the doll many things, teaching it and blessing it with old experiences made new.

Laughing, playing--- they collected precious treasures together.

Memories, dreams--- the two held them in their hands.

Warm little stones plucked from the sky and placed in a bucket of water and sand.

Then one day, as they gazed over the sprawling fields of a world that belonged all to them, the girl asked the doll a question.

>Girl: Is it fun?<

A simple, straightforward question.

One the doll should’ve been able to answer.

Yet in the end, it could only cock its head.

>Doll: What is fun? I understand, but at the same time I don’t.<

>Girl: Ehe, the answer is good enough for me.<

>Doll: Is it?<

>Girl: Yes. The reason you’re not sure what fun is, is because it’s all you know.

Having never felt its absence, you are unable to fully grasp its presence.<

>Doll: huh…?<

>Girl: Winter’s bite gives form to summer’s light.

The cold of night makes the dun bold and bright.<

>Doll: Oh, I think I get it.<

The girl’s words made the doll wonder about something.

>Doll: Will you show me un-fun things as well?<

>Girl: Of course. It’s important to experience all the colours of life.

Even sadness is a necessary sweet pain. Because it lets you know what happiness is.<

>Doll: It’s not enough to just be happy?<

>Girl: Even if one knows the utmost of happiness, it is but a hollow construct in a vacuum if not complemented or contrasted by the other colours of life.<

>Doll: hollow…<

>Girl: A coin with only one side is meaningless.

Coins only have definition and value because they have two sides that can be judged relative to each other.

You can’t flip a coin and call heads or tails if there’s only one side, can you?<

>Doll: You can’t.<

The girl giggled when the doll nodded in understanding.

Though she was playful like this, she was very wise.

There was never a moment when the doll was not learning something from her.

>Girl: Listen well, dear dreamer. A monochrome happiness has no value.

Pleasant tints, painful shades, and tones that meld the two together--- they’re all treasures.

It is for the reason that you are adorned in seven colours.<

Even things that are painful and sad should be wished for.

That was what the girl said.

But if so…

>Doll: If all the colours must be… Is there something that must not be?<

If a canvas graced by all the colours of life is what is sought.

Is a blank canvas what is not?

As if reading the doll’s thoughts, the girl shook her head.

>Girl: A canvas that is blank can simply be painted over.

No. What must not be allowed…Is a canvas that is never shared.<

Something changed about the girl at that moment.

>Girl: Yes… no matter how many canvases teeming with colours you pint…

If they are not shared… they are never truly complete.<

A voice that had always been full of brightness and warmth.

It was not dyed a cold and distant shade.

>Girl: Did you know, dear dreamer?

No matter how much I wish to, I can’t create a story.

Because a story is a world.

And the minimum amount of people required to create a world is two.

A writer can pen enough books to circle the horizon,

but without a reader a story can never be born of it.

Without a reader, a book is nothing but a one-sided coin.

No matter how much the author wishes for it…

no matter how much they pour their soul into it…

a story can not be realized alone.<

Bitterness.

Frustration.

Sorrow,

And despair.

It was an expression the girl had never shown the doll before.

The image of a stranger and someone familiar overlapped, making the doll afraid to reach to out.

But more than anything, it did not want to see the girl make such a face.

So it spoken up, giving voice to its deepest desire.

>Doll: If it takes two people to create a world…

Then let me be that second person.

Let me be your other half.<

The doll wanted to see the girl’s smile again.

Because without it, it was lost.

>Doll: Please, I don’t know what I can do…

But I want to help you.

Won’t you let me?<

>Girl: … <

But the doll’s heartfelt plea---

>Girl: no.<

--- was met only with rejection.

Words that carried the doll’s earnest wish.

They fell to the ground. Unvoiced, unrealized.

>Girl: You can’t… You can’t create a world with me.<

>Doll: Why…? Why can’t I?<

>Girl: Because you do not possess a will of your own.<

>Doll: What do you mean? Am I not here? Am I not speaking with you at this very moment?<

>Girl: That too is just a lie.

The words you speak are not your own.

They are but the product of a script.<

The girl’s eyes were alien. Foreign.

They were the eyes of a stranger the doll did not know.

The doll did not understand.

The girl who would gaze upon it with warm eyes and caress it with tender hands.

Now only coldness dwelled within her eyes, a gulf that could not be traversed having opened up between the two.

The doll could not bear it.

It wanted the girl it held dear to come back.

And so it asked of the girl---

>Doll: why do you forsake me?<

>Girl: I do not for sake you.<

>Doll: You do.<

>Girl: No, it is myself who I forsake.

Because there is no one else after all.

There is no one else in the world but me.<

>Doll: I am here. I exist.<

>Girl: You are nothing but a doll<

The doll could not accept the girl’s words.

And so, compelled by a denial that neared desperation, it lashed out at the girl.

>Doll: This…<

But something unexpected happened when the doll’s hand made contact with the girl.

>Doll: This is…<

With a clacking sound it had fallen to the ground.

The girl’s arm.

An arm not of flesh and blood.

>Girl: …There’s nothing left for me to hide is there…?<

Sinking to her knees, the girl cradled the arm lying on the ground.

Her hunched figure seemed incredibly small to the doll.

>Girl: Most of my body has already been replaced with doll parts.

I am almost as much doll as you.<

The girl had spared nothing, not even her own body in her yearning to create another ‘self’.

>Girl: It is for the reason that I know.

The strings that attach the body and soul are the same as that which control dolls.

Dolls like you don’t have any will of their own…

They are simply being inhabited by mine.<

Strings that bestowed life and movement upon the girl’s creations.

Those very strings were the girl’s chains.

>Girl: The dolls under my control can not do anything beyond what I dictate.

Even when they laugh, cry, and sing… those actions never stop being my own.

Even you, dear dreamer… you can not move unless I command it.

You are incapable of disobeying the script I write for you.

But most importantly…

You are incapable of writing your own script.<

The doll did not know what to say.

It did not know how to feel.

Perhaps it was shock.

Or perhaps… it was because the girl had not yet determined what the doll might feel or say.

>Girl: You understand not don’t you?

Why you can’t create a world with me…<

“”Because I am you, and you are me. “”

A spell to break the glass seal.

It left the doll’s mouth unbidden.

>Girl: I am all alone in this world.<

>Doll: This eternally repeating present.<

>Girl: I deceived myself… deluded myself into thinking it was finally over.<

>Doll: After so long, my time has finally begun to move.

After so long, I’ll finally be able to reach the future.

That was what I thought.<

>Girl: But it was all just a hollow façade<

As one, the doll and girl spoke of the cold truth that lay beneath gilded wonderland.

>Girl: Imagined warmth.<

>Doll: Fabricated colour.<

>Girl: In the end, I’m nothing but a lonely girl playing with dolls by herself.<

Something wet and clear began to stream down the girl’s face.

It was proof she was a human.

Proof she was alive.

And as the doll could not do the same, it was proof she was the only one in the world.

>Girl: A world like this… I don’t need it anymore.<

>Doll: I can’t bear it anymore.<

A world of only one, that continued to turn fruitlessly like a broken cog.

>Girl: I’m tired of it…<

>Doll: So, so tired…<

>Girl: I just want to rest now…<

>Doll: So the last thing I will have you do, dear dreamer…<

>Girl: … Is end this life of mine.<

At that moment it extended from the doll’s arm.

A terribly cold denial.

An affirmation wrought of steel.

>Girl: The key is already in the silver lock.

All that’s left to do is turn it.<

With mechanical steps the doll marched forward.

Just as the girl directed.

Just as her will desired.

>Girl: hehe…

In the end I knew exactly what I was doing, didn’t I?

The reason that I created you…

Was to free me from this unending dream.<

As if guided by invisible strings, the doll’s body moved forth.

One step, two.

The doll advanced towards the girl.

Tensing, rotating its arm.

>Girl: Now then... this dream that has gone on for far too long… it’s time to wake up.<

With arms spread wide, the girl welcomed the doll into her chest.

Embracing it sweetly, tenderly, as the doll’s seven colours turned to one.

Red. The colourful canvas.

Red. The monochrome canvas.

Vibrant, vacant.

It became overwhelmed with a singular hue.

>Girl: So dark… so cold…is this death…?

It’s scary… isn’t it, dear dreamer…?<

The doll answered. It did not.

A tear running down its porcelain cheek.

Red as rose, it was not clear.

Not clear like the raindrops that flowed down the girl’s face.

>Girl: Alone. That’s how I’ve been all my life… but at the very least.

I didn’t want to die that way.

With someone at my side--- that’s how I wanted it to end.

Won’t you grant that small wish of mine, dear dreamer…?<

It was then that the doll’s mouth moved.

Giving voice to one last gentle lie.

>Doll: I am here… by your side.

We shall sleep together.<

“”For I am you, and you are me. “”

And so the world of only one, became that of none.

As the last that remained slipped into eternal repose.

THE END.