GLASS HEART STONE WORLD

The Day Her Mother Left As Amelie washed her dead mother, her mother's eyes momentarily opened. They seemed to look at her and whisper: "Don't abandon them. But don't forget yourself either..." Since that day, she has been afraid of mirrors. Because sometimes in mirrors, she sees an older, duller version of herself. Someone who speaks with their eyes. She doesn't know who it is, but that person, like Amelie, mothers five children—in another realm. Every night, Amelie goes to a beach in her dreams. But this beach wasn't real; it was a boundless shore, a magnificent place opening to an infinite sea in Amelie's dream world, where she could find peace. For Amelie, that beach was her sanctuary. The sky was deep purple, the sea red like blood instead of salt. This beach, which might seem terrifying to everyone, was Amelie's true point of origin. You know, some souls are as special as they are terrifying. Elian knew this and went to Amelie's side every night in her dreams. And there he was, the same man every night: Elian. Elian told her, "This is the world you built." But the castles were not made of sand, but of decayed baby teeth. When she woke up, there was a taste of blood in her mouth; this taste was as delicious to Amelie as licking sugar. One of her five siblings never spoke: Jonah. He was three years old but seemed to know everything. The townspeople called him "an old soul in a small body," "like a tiny creature, a three-year-old reptile who knew, heard, and felt everything." One night Amelie heard whispers in her sleep. When she woke up, Jonah was sitting on his bed and said: “He is calling you. The sands are swallowing him. Remember his name before he leaves.” But Amelie had never spoken Elian's name to anyone. How could he have known Elian? It was absurd. Elian was merely a pessimistic spirit who came for Amelie; it was impossible for anyone else to know him because Elian was created for Amelie. The Shadow Who Fled the House One of her siblings, the youngest girl, disappeared one night. The door was locked. The windows were closed. But on her room wall: a wet handprint, covered in sand. Amelie's subconscious and reality had blurred. Elian sometimes wanted to "take" her, but she couldn't leave her children behind. With time, her memories blurred: was it yesterday, a dream, was she still seven or already seventeen? There was a legend in the village: "The Children of the Salt Lake"—those chosen from motherless girls, drawn into another realm. Was this Amelie's destiny? Or was she going mad? She was unaware at the time that she would be forced to see Elian throughout her life. She was miserable. Fear and exhaustion blew through Amelie's mind like a barren wind. When she got out of bed, she saw a lonely doll at the foot of it. The doll's left eye was missing. "Who put this here?" she asked, but the answer was silence. The doll wasn't actually something to be afraid of because it was an old toy of her brother who had died at the age of five, before Amelie was born, and her mother had made that doll with her own hands. Amelie knew this, but she also knew that the doll was in a trunk and that her deceased brother had taken out the doll's single eye the day before he died while playing with it. Amelie had a few questions in her mind. The exact cause of her brother's death was unknown, and perhaps a spiritual entity like Elian had possessed him, and the tiny boy, being only five years old, couldn't cope with this entity and succumbed. This was just one of the thoughts running through Amelie's mind. And she also knew that her mother had kept this one-eyed doll as a keepsake. What chilled Amelie's blood when she woke up was this: the feeling of knowing the truth about certain things and yet being in a game despite knowing them. That night, sleeping in her bed, she had a dream: Her mother, in a white shroud, appeared in the mirror. Her lips moved, a whisper was heard: “Have you forgotten my son Pablo, Amelie? Your brother keeps mentioning you, he hasn't forgotten you, and he is as close as a breath, Amelie. You can find him in the real world, he isn't dead, Amelie, he is waiting for you to save him.” Amelie woke up drenched in sweat. She felt a weight on her left chest. What if, as her mother said in the dream, Pablo really wasn't dead? The cause of death was uncertain, and he didn't even have a grave. Her mother had never explained why he had no grave. When Amelie tried to ask a few times, her mother would change the subject, acting as if Pablo had never existed. Seeing the fear and dread on her mother's face, Amelie never questioned why Pablo had no grave again. But what if Pablo really wasn't dead and was kidnapped by a spirit? What if that spirit was Elian? Could her brother, whom she thought was dead, have really been kidnapped? Was that possible? There was a strange silence in the house. When Amelie stepped into the living room, five-year-old Pablo was sitting there. But Amelie knew: Pablo had died at the age of five. "He's here," said Pablo; his voice seemed to emerge from the shadow. "But this time he wants you too. Before the sand collapses..." Amelie held her breath. "What do you mean?" Pablo smiled, his eyes empty but wise. "Elian... You forgot Elian's name. I made you forget. The spirit who took me and the spirit who wants you are the same." Wiping away the salt tears that traced paths from her eyelashes, Amelie moved away from the room. Even as she watched over her siblings, the line between reality and hallucination within her blurred. One morning, she went for a walk on the beach. The sands felt cold and bone-dry. Suddenly, she saw a half-buried corpse in the sand. In the darkness of the night, she still recognized the blue pajamas: Adam's pajamas. Her heart pounded wildly, her knees trembled. "Pablo!" she cried. The corpse was motionless. Amelie dug with her hands; when she reached his toes, she trembled, then lifted her head. She ran to the village, called the police, and told everyone. But the team that returned to the beach found not a single trace in the sand. "You're tired, Amelie," said the old woman. "It's natural for you to hallucinate with all this work." Amelie remained silent. Her eyes were fixed on the truth. One night, all her siblings simultaneously turned their backs on Amelie in her dream. They all said at once: “We never wanted you. Why did our mother choose you?” When she woke up, her fingertips were gone—only salt traces remained. Elian called her one last time. Or rather, Amelie wanted to believe it was the last time. But this time, what would save her was not going to Elian one last time, but facing her own darkness. And this darkness would remain as a signature in her life.She had to embrace her own darkness now. Because Elian's magic was only the beginning in her life; the real battle would start when she was left alone with the shadows within. This darkness was cold and silent, yet the power that came with it was deep and ancient. And that night, Amelie unlatched the door to her own labyrinth. She stepped inside; the endless game, full of unknowns and secrets, had begun. And somewhere, that familiar light in Lysander’s eyes would guide her. Because now, she was living the story of a soul trapped between the past and the future. And this story, like a tale woven with secrets, was dragging her onto a path where she knew not where it would lead.