Where Do Unkept Promises Go?

"There is another world, but it is inside this one."

Paul Eluard

***

"I wasn't supposed to be here."

They were sitting opposite each other on the wooden chairs at the wooden table in the hut. The raven-haired man was staring intently at Gazelle, his intense gaze making her uncomfortable. "Yes," he said suddenly, averting his eyes from her face. "None of us were supposed to be here." He stared back at Gazelle. "Neither book characters should gain consciousness nor should the author fall into the fiction she creates."

Gazelle stood up in sudden anger, and her chair fell back. The raven-haired man stared calmly at the fallen chair. This time he avoided looking at Gazelle. "I didn't create any of these," she said, emphasizing the words. As her face crumpled with pain, the raven-haired man turned his eyes to Gazelle's face as if he had sensed it, and stood up.

Gazelle, who has been trying to survive in the forest for a month, was angry that the man she was looking for came to her with his own feet. Indeed, it all seemed like fiction, but Gazelle was not its creator.

"In the middle of the night, as I was about to close my eyes, your name popped up in my mind. Do you know how it felt to find out that this life I had already found meaningless was an illusion and that I wasn't real?" He paused and smiled slightly. None of these things mattered? How could he be so comfortable? "What's it like to know you were nothing when you thought you were nothing, Gazelle?"

Gazelle was shaken by the questions she heard, and her stomach cramped. "Just you?" she whispered. Her voice had drowned into her, but the man could still hear her clearly.

"No," he said without thinking. "There are a few more." He frowned and looked at the hut. "As time goes on, their numbers will increase." He stared at the door of the hut. "They will knock at your door and ask you for everything. They will take everything from you."

"I have nothing." Gazelle wanted to go home now.

"You have a pen." Gazelle's eyes widened when she realized what the man meant.

"I... I can't write anymore. Just trying to write a word makes me sick to my stomach, I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack. I hate writing so much that the thought of it makes me dizzy. I can't." The man looked at Gazelle in surprise as he grabbed Gazelle's shoulders and shook her.

"Are you serious? Didn't you really write any of these? A writer who can't write anything?" He removed his hands from her shoulders and stared absently at the floor of the hut. "Then why did I find out that I was the work of an author when I regained consciousness of my existence? Why did I see you, Gazelle?"

"I don't know!" she shouted. Her light brown eyes were teary and pooled up between her lashes. The man couldn't say anything because, looking closely into her eyes, he saw that she was telling the truth and she felt helpless. When he looked into her eyes, he saw her real self and he saw his heart, which felt helpless even before he regained consciousness of his existence. He saw himself always telling the truth despite the brutal truth. And he decided to help this helpless woman who looks like a gazelle like her name. After all, he had no other goals in his life. How hard would it be to save a writer who has fallen into fiction that she did not write herself?

She forgot where she was or who she was. In fact, all her life she has been so stupid as to forget why she exists. Now, the man she was standing in front of her was speaking but she couldn't hear anything he said. It was a mistake to trust him from the beginning.

It was a mistake in itself for her to trust anyone in this life. She remembered everything, in the smallest detail. However, she easily forgot everything. But she never forgot the betrayals. She remembered how everyone she trusted had betrayed her, the friends she loved, the men she had fallen in love with, and the fact that her family had never seen her, despite her suffering.

She wanted to take a step back, she wanted to run away.

What did it mean to be strong? If her mind is strong and her muscles are weak, can she call herself strong? Could she call herself strong if tears flowed from her eyes because of one word while knocking people down with one punch?

If she didn't know the value of this life blown into her body, could she call herself a human? It was obvious that she didn't appreciate this life being blown into her body because she was having trouble accepting the facts as usual.

"Are you okay?" When Gazelle finally heard the man's voice, she tried to hide her heartache but failed. Absently, as if he was not in front of her, she grimaced in pain and pressed her hand to her heart. "Is there something wrong with your heart?" Without thinking, the man put his fingertips on her hand over her heart. "You didn't listen to anything I said, did you?" She smiled, mixed with anger. For a moment, Gazelle thought she saw red lines in the man's brown eyes, but the moment he blinked, the red lines disappeared.

She exhaled as if her breath might explode in her lungs, and her shivering increased.

"I have to take medicine for my heart or I'll have a heart attack and die before I can get home." When Gazelle fell to her knees, unable to bear it, the man fell with her. "Sorry... I couldn't hear anything you said, I'm having an anxiety attack right now."

"You're safe now. No one can hurt you while I'm with you."

There was a small smile on his lips.

"I think you like this situation. Do you have a savior syndrome? I don't need you to protect me." Gazelle rolled her eyes and looked down at the ground, trying not to look at him. She didn't want to look at him because she knew very well that she needed him. "Because I'm weak, you want to use me like everyone else. I told you, I can't write anything. I won't be of any use to you.

"I've never tried to save anyone in my life. The one's savior must be themselves, right?" His voice was serious. "I didn't think you were weak, and I don't expect anything in return from you. It's just... I wanted to help you because I realized you were telling the truth and could be a good person, but if you don't want it, it's your funeral. I have to go home now. Goodbye."

"Weak people like me are doomed to be crushed under the feet of the strong," Gazelle whispered as the man stood up and grabbed the handle of the hut door. She still hadn't taken her hand off her heart. She stared at the ground with her empty eyes. She pressed her nails into her other palm and closed her eyes tightly. "Someone I trusted told me this, a long time ago. Can I really trust you?"

He was right in front of her when she opened her eyes. "I trusted too." Her eyes widened in surprise. "Once upon a time. To someone."

She smiled. "So even though we're not from the same worlds, we're not that different."

He smiled too. "I promise you. You can count on me."

For 28 years, no promises made to her have been kept.

What was the name of the man she was supposed to trust? "What's your name, Stranger?"

"Raven," he said, looking intently into Gazelle's eyes.

"The Cheater Raven is gracious but harmful," Gazelle whispered as if her future had been laid before her eyes.

"What?" Raven asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Nothing," said Gazelle, remembering that she had admired ravens since she was little.