David Sylvian - Home

A day before June 25th, 1778

...

Yaaaaaaaawnnnnnghhhhh...

By a stretch of arms, I hear a crackling. It ain't as loud as the rain, or my mouth. Warm tears fall upon the pillow after a huge yawn. Hope I haven't woken anybody else, as if I wanted to be awake... my right arm feels numb, being exposed to cold throughout all night. It's still night.

The room is dark, but I can't close an eye, even blink. I stare at the dark, like he used to at us while in the crib. I watch that wooden structure for a while, a personal cage rotting like the one who stood inside, yet a place of fond memories, in the middle of dreadful scratchings and unquiet slumbers. Hungry, roasted, sleepy, stinking... soon we learn that all our problems can't be solved by yelling, but listening to each other. To yell was Jack's way to be listened, and so came the first paradox, of a life full of plenty.

Like, if you stare at the mirror for too long, all you see is a rat. Wear a cloth, stand up, and they see a man. Say your name, the way you say, and they see another man. I see a beautiful lady lying on the other side of bed. An angel, if I wanted, or believed in such. A vole, drooling on her pillow. A girl, engulfed by those white strains.

I want to see her face again. Not that I miss it, but I am one of the few whom she lets in. Strange, why me? That's what I ask everyday. Come on, move those strands away... her breath won't do it so. A warm breath, coming out of warmy person, touched by your cold hands.

Ugh... I... I can't. Taking the hair out of Lenneth's face is the equivalent of taking her blanket out. Well, if that isn't what you want... No. Of course not. I didn't want to wake up earlier. To be fair, who wants it?

— ...Bort? – Then I heard what sounded like my name, pronounced in a poorly way. Shivered for a moment, thinking it was a ghost. A ghost with an onion in the mouth could only be, but the pale only belonged to that hair. – Bart... Oh, Bart. Why are you awake?

— Lenneth – I said, looking at her. So beautiful... a beauty like her should rest – I can't sleep.

— Something bothering you?

— You don't need to.

— What I don't need to do? – She said, a bit groggy. – I know there's something wrong with you.

— Then why do you ask? – I said, to which Lenneth looked at me with drowsy eyes.

— Bart... – Then I realized the indifference of before, hearing that tearful voice. My throat was dry.

— Oh... sorry – I had to say. Lenneth is really trying to understand me, and I treat her as if she understands me a lot. – Sorry if I was rude.

— That's okay – She looked at me, holding that pillow, hiding that smile. A brief smile. – I shouldn't have bothered you..

— No, I am the one who shouldn't have been bothering you, Lenneth. If, at least, I could sleep...

— Why can't you sleep? – She doesn't know, with me bringing only quick corporal expressions that mean nothing in place of paced words.

— I... I don't know. I... I just... feel wrong.

— Why do you feel this way? – Lenneth asks, like a child, looking at me with the same eyes. I don't deserve these.

— If I could explain...

— Explain the way you want. I might get it.

— And if you don't get these words?

— You aren't even trying. – A smirk covered her lips. God, why is she doing this? If that's supposed to motivate me... – Come on, Bart. Tell me what's wrong.

— Everything. – I said, as soon as Lenneth touched me with the left hand, upon my chest, pinching my nipple. I want to take it out, but that would mean I'm refusing her. Refusing help, which ain't my like, much less complaining.

I looked at her, my eyes telling her to stop, but what she interpreted instead was to keep going. So I took a stare to the ceiling, plain, dull, I kinda see myself in it, more than I did when in the mirror.

Geez... I don't like this sort of thing... I really... Anyway, is there any use for a male's nipples? Why should I feel something? Oh... yes... it's clear. All clear.

— This is what's wrong, my dear. Everything. As a Burmecian, I have plenty of reasons to feel somehow wrong. I mean, look at my hands... I call these hands, but they're claws. All they do is hurt.

— Am I hurting you? – She said, her fingers crawling like ants upon my skin. More like a bird taking a worm out its hole!...

— Ouch!... Lenneth, please – I said, promptly raising my hand, holding it tight against her arm. My way to say 'stop'. She smiles.

— You liked it, didn't you? – That doesn't sound like Lenneth. I mean, given it's night, the sinister hour… – How do you feel?

— If that was supposed to make me feel any better... didn't help that much – I said, being sincere, trying to close my eyes. – Not that I like you, Lenneth. I really do, but this ain't my game. It's... it's complicated, you know. I let you in, though I don't like it, but you do. We have things in common, as well. I mean, a lot, but most the time, we are poles apart. Sure, you like to take action, it's a thing I admire you, and the whole of your family. Like, I didn't expect to ever make amends with…

and while I was speaking, I saw her tail swing madly, out the blanket. The more I kept talking, more that tail swayed. For Lenneth, it was the equivalent of pinching my nipple, I guess. Had to ask – Uh... why are you looking at me like this?

— You're cute. – She said, with hands upon the tummy, and looking at me with those eyes... I want to puke. Yes, that would make me feel clean, someway

— Why do you think so? I am kinda ugly.

— Hehe... silly you – There's something that keeps me from avoiding looking at that girl. Don't know, maybe the depth in her purple eyes. – I like the way you think deep.

— Deep, you say? I don't think that deep. I just say whatever comes to mind.

— And I am one of the few who can take it all.

— Do you? – I had my doubts.

— Uh huh. Most of the time, you have nothing to say but stare to a wall in contemplation. – By contemplation, Lenneth means silence – When I feel bored, I do these things, but unlike me, you do it because you think a lot.

— I think I am boring – I said, as Lenneth let out a chuckle, quick as a sigh.

— No, please... you're a nice person, Bart. May have your worries, but ain't boring. It's like telling a child that all her questions are stupid. And you are here to answer them, as well make them. That's why Jack likes your company a lot. This way, you're being honest with yourself.

— But there isn't only myself. There are others...

— And you acknowledge their existence very well. I would say you have a strong sense of morals, a thing in need at these times of indecency. You hate when someone else gets hurt, and hold that pain within yourself. That's not healthy, I know, but you don't care. You're immeasurably cute...

— Why do you say these things? Whenever there's action, all I do is follow, obey others. I don't even have a fixed job, just side hustles. – I said, as Lenneth stood upon me, looking down. Even in the dark, those eyes can be seen.

— Oh, come on, Bart... these have nothing to do with your worries. In fact, I think you should feel glad for helping a lot of people.

— A lot of them, passing by. – Then I holded her arms with the same hands clenched by the spikes of an orange tree. And that hair, white like one of those tiny lemon petals, falling upon my head the closer that face gets to mine...

— Don't you think I feel the same? People only acknowledge my being because I wear myself as a Dragoon Knight. And you... you see me like I am – She said, about to kiss me. I had nowhere to go, or any way I could avoid that. It seemed like an eternity, I felt both good and bad, clean and dirty... she laid upon my skinny chest, hearing my heartbeat.

— I don't know if you feel the same, or ever felt something like this, Lenneth, but... why do we dream? I mean, in dreams, everything looks better. Nothing is wrong, or right. It's just ideas faraway. Why came up with a better reality in mind instead of making it with our bare hands? It is as if everything we need is here, but we always hope for it to become better. And that's all we seem to have... high hopes.

— So you feel unsatisfied for not being able to accomplish a goal, despite doing a lot?

— At least, that's what you understood, because I really can't – I kept staring at the ceiling, feeling her touch.

— It's because you think a lot. Geez... A lot bothers you, but you shouldn't feel this way. Think less, I would say. But this way, the charm I hold for you would be gone. Still, I would love you the way you are.

— And how do you see me? 'Cute' ain't the right word.

— It is, for me.

— I still don't get it – I really didn't, as she just smiles at me.

— Heh... Sure, cute ain't enough to describe you as a whole, but it's what I came up with the first time I saw you.

— The first time?

— Not the 'you' I stared on our first meeting, but the 'you' I saw in all our moments. Even now, I see it...

— What do you see? – I asked, to which Lenneth stood upon me, facing me with a 'really?' kind of look.

— Oh, Bart... don't you see? Or is it only me who can see in this dark?

— You're a Dragoon, after all.

— Being a Dragoon doesn't mean that I can do a lot of things.

— Not by yourself.

— Now you're beginning to understand. – She approached, stared at my eyes – Thinking about it, I saw myself in you too. Not only my reflection in your eyes, but myself as a whole.

And I remember that day, those days after training... Lenneth was so tired, disheartened, but I always brought her a smile, besides company. But, as much as I brought the best for her, I also brought the worst.

— You mean your weakness. – For some reason, I said it. Maybe I had no reason.

— Bart! – She frowned, disappointed, but knew that I did it on purpose – It's the other way round. I didn't choose you because I felt pity. Neither you brought me a friend's shoulder for the same. Maybe, we may have felt a bit of it for each other, but it ain't all. Though, there are things only the weak can feel... But weakness does not make them low. Is that how you feel? The worst of you...

— Maybe – I said. Wasn't tired – It's because we are weak that we can be kind to each other, after all. That is where our humanity comes from. Everyone has weaknesses. We struggle between which to shown and which to hide. Even you did at first, Lenneth. By showing it, we drew to each other...

— And we grew strong. – I wondered for a while if this was all but a dream. Our words didn't match each other, Lenneth spoke as if she was me, but looking at her, feeling her beyond touch. Perhaps this ain't a dream. – The body may get tired, but that's not the case of a mind. Since mind and body are connected, both need to rest. Don't you think?

— Yeah, I'm really trying. – I said, a bit of her hair fell upon my mouth. I have no complaints, except for – But these birds...

— Birds?

— Yes, the birds... I can't sleep with them singing.

— Birds singing at three AM? – We stared at the blurred window, which offered light and rain, the chirps of tiny birds could be heard. Is it only me?

— You listen to them as well, do you?

— I do. Funny how they sing for a land without sun.

— It's in hopes to bring a chant before the kids wake up –

— I know a tune we could sing... – When Lenneth said that, I felt the whole world going away. Her hair wrapped around my neck... Choking, drowning our bodies on a white sea.