From the moment that we are born, the world is already telling us, preparing us to be adults.
I once thought that staying inside our rose-colored room would be enough. But you’re the adventurous type. You decided to open our door and the next thing I knew was the feeling of being submerged into a great flood.
Pissed, I reminded you that we were inside a submarine.
But you laughed it off and held out your hand for me. The water was becoming stronger now and both of us were sucked into the unknown.
I remember you swimming. I remember myself grasping your heel. See, I wasn’t strong enough.
You’re the one who led me to the shore- a vast space of brightness, noises and faces. I squinted at the man who held us with both of his hands. I remember seeing our faces in his pupils. Yes, ours.
It was breathtaking.
Back in our world, the only face I knew was yours. I spent time studying its features, hoping that mine isn’t too far off.
But under the glare of light, both of us were found awestruck. I turned to peek at you and you were quiet, still staring at the eyes of this man; marveling at the same thing as I was.
We are so beautiful. I cried.
But you didn’t. You shushed me with your stare and whispered into my mind that this is only just the surface. There is something else. I remembered you telling me. Find it. Don’t miss it.
Where is it? I asked. But you only smiled and closed your eyes.
That’s the last thing I heard from you before the man separated us. I pleaded him not to. But he didn’t understand me. I cried at you to plead with me, but you were silent. There was nothing that I could do but to cry. And to ask
But instead of you, they gave me milk. Milk, as the woman told me, will make my eyes clearer. Will make me stronger.
I needed the strength to find you. So I drank.
Milk tasted good. I thought growing up would be bitter but it was warm. It was comforting.
It painted my eyes white, making me see the world in its gleaming opaqueness.
It hardened the cage that was my bones- made it bigger, made it tougher.
My legs are strong enough to run to you now. My hands are already big enough to hold yours.
But my eyes couldn’t find you. So I drank more.
I don’t think I can ever live my life now without milk.
Up to this day, milk clouds my cups of coffee. But there are days- days when I wonder what is it like to see the other side of that dark finite ocean. Maybe you are there, staring back at my white eyes.
I wonder what they gave you, sister. Milk tells me that you are only in my mind- a figment of childhood. You’ve never existed.