Brutalist Stories #39

“What the fuck is this, and how did I get here?” I say as I turn to face the breathing sound behind me.

There’s a girl stood there dressed in red with a kind smile edging across her face. Her blonde, bobbed hair shines in the amber light; the gold rim of her round spectacles glints at me as she tilts her head slightly and simply replies, “You have to believe.”

“I’ve tried that before you know. It’s never really gotten me anywhere,” I say as I take a step toward her and look into her blue eyes and try to catch something. Some sort of memory, some vague feeling of who she might be or where I am, and despite it all remaining a mystery, I’m not uncomfortable. I feel sound, my headache has gone, my joints are loose, the knot of tension behind my eyes has been unravelled, and I can feel a smile creeping across my own face now.

She lowers her head and takes a step closer to me, taking both my hands from my side and into hers. Soft skin, and a moment there of something unlike I’ve ever felt before, a flicker of electricity, a spark of a feeling that’s new.

“I know,” she says, looking back up at me. “But you must try to believe. We’re not much without it.”

“What do you think I’m supposed to believe in?” I ask her as I look around the concrete room, the amber light attaching itself to the coarse texture, minute shadows on the uneven surface.

“You had it once, don’t you remember? Have you forgotten her already?” she says and let’s go of my hands as she takes a step back and, blinking gently, scrunches up her nose.

“How could I ever forget?” I say as the memory manifests itself as a ball in the back of my throat and set of tears that collect at the corners of my eyes. “She’s always there, somewhere. I just try not to remember. I have to put it away.”

“She may be gone.” She pauses and smiles at me. “But you can still believe, you know? There’s a path, it’s a hard one, but nothing good is ever won easily. I can show you. You just have to believe.”

I furrow my brow. “You can show me? What can you show me?”

“Outside of here, there’s a room. We built it for people like you. It is the collection of all consciousness, past and present. With our technology, we have been able to bring together the collective mind of humanity, your wider being, the soul of your kind so you can see into yourselves.” She smiles. “It can bring to light the truth of what you want, of what you desire. You’re a kind soul wrapped in fear that stops you embracing something that deep down you know is real, and you know you want. You pushed her away, you push them all away, but it’s not you. If you believe that, if you can find even just a hint of belief, I’ll take you to the room, and who knows, maybe you’ll be happy.”

“I’m not sure I can,” I quiver.

“Sure you can.” She smiles. “It’s easier than you might think. Just say it, one time, try it on for size, ‘I believe.’”

“I believe,” I say as she steps back and takes my hands again.

She smiles at me before landing a tiny little peck of a kiss on my cheek. “Good,” she says. “I think we can make this work.”

“I believe,” I say again, and I do. I really do.

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