Unmask

“As far as we discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to k****e a light in the darkness of mere being." -Carl Gustav Jung Ding Dong Ding Dong You awaken to the sound of loud church bells, but you find it strange because you don’t recall ever traveling to church that day. Your mind is still a mess after waking up abruptly. But you don't mind—In fact, you wished you didn’t have to return to the world just yet and hoped that you could still retreat to your dreams. But you can’t. Not after you realize that you’re not in the comfort of your home nor your office. Instead of those places, you’re in a huge hall—a theatre, and you’re standing on stage, alone. You’re alarmed now. It seems you don’t know where you are exactly or how you got there. Sweat begins to form on your forehead. Could you have been held captive by someone? Could you have developed a mental condition that caused you to forget how you ended up here? Or could it be you were sleepwalking all this time? Whatever the answer was, you would not know the answer to your next question. You realize that your clothes seem to have changed. You’re wearing a long trench coat, leather pants, boots with golden heels, and red gloves that stop at your wrists. Just moments ago, you were wearing the same uniform you’d cover yourself with every day at work, and yet now, you’re wearing something you’re not sure you even own. Strange. But what’s even more strange is that you have a white mask on which covers your whole face. It has no print or decorations on it. Even so, it’s not supposed to represent anything, you can’t help but feel goosebumps pop from your skin as you look at the mask. Its plain yet mysterious nature is something you find eerie. You swallow and purse your lips. Then, in the blink of an eye, a woman appears below the stage. She looks peculiar—more cartoonish than human, the kind you’ve seen in the Ghibli movies you watched growing up. The woman is stout like a teapot, her hair is curly and white like a sheep, her eyes are as large as two perfectly spherical oranges, and her nose looks like a chili pepper—long and pointy. She definitely did not look like the women you would normally see day-to-day. The woman looks at you, her lips curling on both ends. “My, my. It looks like the main character of this play has entered the stage.” Your brows arch, not sure if she was pinpointing you. No one is in the room but you and her, so it could not be anyone else. You were the main character she referred to, yet you’re compelled to clarify it. “It seems that you’ve lived your life abiding by the chains that society and personal affairs have placed upon you,” the woman begins. “But it seems your desire for liberty has grown strong enough to transform into insurgency.” The skin between your brows curl. None of the words the woman said seemed to make sense to you, and yet, you seem to be interested to hear more. You wonder where this conversation is going. The woman extends her arms forward as if she were giving something away. “That is why I will give you the power to spread these wings of insurgency.” She snaps her fingers, and the vibration of its sound echoes loudly in the room and it tickles your ears just right. Then, a brightly glowing ball appears in front of your face. You take a step back and wonder if you were seeing things right. A glowing ball floating in the air? There are no such things that happen in real life. The woman chuckles at your reaction. It seems she’s used to it, nevertheless, she also looks entertained. “Do not be afraid of it. You are the main character of this story, after all.” You take a breath as you stare at the glowing ball of light. Should you touch it or not? Should you trust the woman’s words or should you trust skepticism? Though, if you were to really answer those questions, you seem to be attracted to the light. Your instinct is strangely telling you to accept it because you feel as though you’ve seen something in it that reminds you of yourself. It's as if the ball of light was a missing piece in the puzzle that is you. You bite your lip, finally deciding that you should follow your instincts. You’ve lived too much of your life, following the rules and instructions that others have imposed upon you—even when you knew they’d destroy your soul. With determination, you dig your hand deep into the ball of light. In an instant, the light fades and in your hand appears to be a mysterious card. The Fool It seems to be a Tarot Card. You’re a bit familiar with it since you would frequently use superficial phone applications which drew you these cards that supposedly guide you throughout your daily journey. You stare at the card. It seems that this card is causing your chest to feel warm—but it’s not terrible. It’s more igniting than scorching. You seem delighted with yourself. “Do you feel a connection with The Fool?” The woman asks, a smile on her face. You look at her and remind yourself that you’re glad you trusted your gut for the first time in years. You nod your head. She chuckles. “It’s only natural—it is part of you after all. Then, make use of your gift so that you may begin your role as the main character and spread your wings of insurgency.” You still don’t understand what she means by it. But it’s not like anything you say at this point will change what you’ve decided on. You’ve already agreed to take the card, and regret doesn’t seem to be in your thoughts either. The woman takes a bow. “I bid you farewell, for now, our main character.” Strange enough, you find yourself compelled to return the bow, even when you don’t know what it’s supposed to signify. As you finish the bow, light starts to illuminate from your body. It’s glowing brightly as if to consume you. You start to notice that your body is becoming translucent—like you’re fading into nothingness. You gasp. You were not aware that this would happen. What does this mean? Are you exiting the theatre? Or will you be erased from the face of this world forever? You try to reach out to the woman, but she remains still. She looks calm. You remind yourself that you decided to trust your inner voice and this woman so you stop thinking whether you’ve chosen light or death. “Your name! You have not told me your name,” you say. You think it might be best that you at least know the title by which your new ally goes by. Your abrupt question didn’t seem like it was included in the woman’s script of your exchange. She utters a soft chuckle. “My, my. How rude of me to have not introduced myself, and to our main character too.” She bows once more. “I am Ada. Should you need any assistance, fate shall bring us together when church bells sing.” “Ada,” you whisper. The light glows brighter now, and your body is completely fading. Ding Dong Ding Dong A loud chorus of church bells resonate the theatre—or maybe it’s only your ears that hear them sing. They’re the same ones you heard at the beginning. You find yourself chuckling at the thought that these bells were your roll call and closing curtains. As the bells ring louder, you close your eyes and submit yourself to the darkness that greets you. You are now ready to play your role as this story’s main character.