“The skies. They kill me,” quoted Audrey, gazing out the windows. The warmth in her eyes appeared to tear down the sky to pieces. “Wow! Melting blue.” She smiled to herself.

Marylene chuckled. “Now, what is that? What kind of a blue melts?” She swayed the doll she was knitting from side to side, in a manner that implied she was surfing the waves of boredom. She continued nevertheless, forced by the compulsion of habit than of real interest. “Sometimes, you remind me that I’m not quite out of my mind. You do.”

Audrey had turned nineteen only the previous month. Boundless creativity and freedom defined her existence, or so she believed. She was excellent with paints and brushes; one swift stroke replicated chambers of her beautiful mind. Two years younger than herself, Marylene was almost a combination of all that her sister was not. Together they made a perfect team.

Audrey turned with a blank expression on her face. “The kind of blue that melts your heart,” she said, blinking as if she expected her to have already understood, who in turn was curious all of a sudden. She was dying to know what all of this meant.

“Fine. You can tell me what the matter is,” said Marylene, throwing the doll she was knitting on the velvet cushion, which was a rich emerald green, fully satisfied to have an excuse to quit her routine and faced Audrey like a saint. Audrey was fighting with herself to speak up. Silence prevailed.

“It was this dream,” she said, “that I had last night. I try to get it out of my mind, but… I’m not sure what it meant either, which makes it all the more intolerable.” She cupped her face in her cold hands.

“Alright, there. Go ahead.”

Audrey looked down. “I was riding a pink horse, very high in the sky. The pink was a comforting tone, like I was in heaven or something. I was in a race of some kind. Some dreadful wild race that I am no admirer of. Black and brown horses raced before me, leaving me more and more breathless every second. I choked hard. I felt like I no longer belonged to the earth; unearthly. You get that?” 

Marylene was determined to stay quiet.

“It felt like death. I mean, I don’t even know what to expect,” she said, sounding exhausted.

“You don’t even know what to expect?” asked her sister, observing. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything. Everything is changing. My interests and intuition have been crucified. Lately, I have been fearing my own derogatory progress. Like when your own feet fail you. Not so easy, you know.”

Marylene looked concerned. Not often does she get to see her cheerful sister in a battered state. The agile clouds rolled into white bundles of cotton outside, dancing gracefully in the infinite space. 

“I see you have been troubling yourself,” said Mary. “This is not the sister I know. That strong lady with the unique eyes that could spot beauty in almost anything. She who never gives up.” She paused, taking Audrey’s pale hands into hers and squeezed them lightly, as a sign of support. She then fixed her own eyes, a cocoa brown, on her sister’s.

“Listen. Just because things have ceased to be what they were, doesn’t mean they are no more. A change comes along time and again to remind you that agony is the condiment that gives life its flavour. You love watching the moon, I know. You stand watching it for what seems like an era to me. There is a simple philosophy in the life of the moon, just like you say there is in all existence. Angry black clouds cloak the moon, depriving it of its silver beauty temporarily. Now, does that mean she has deceived us? No, of course not. The moon is always the beautiful moon and will continue to exist, no matter what. As the clouds drift away, leaving the moon the bright queen of the night skies, she shines as herself. Perhaps, even better. Remember, she’s precious and not meant for all.”

Audrey was unsure how to react. A mixture of emotions besieged her forsaken heart, in the deep dungeons of herself, and showed way to what she hoped would be light. 

“Hey, calm down. Control your world from the inside out, not the other way around. The latter could prove to be a disaster. I know how it feels, alright. I have experienced moments like you.” Then she added, “All of us do.”

Audrey lifted her eyes for the first time during the entire conversation. “You have?” 

Marylene looked away from Audrey’s face to the windows. The clouds waved goodbye to their blue mother and raced away for all the goodness in the world.

“This is my final year in school. Well, the good lasts short and in my case, I’d say it’s lasted long enough through all the years. Things are changing though. People change faster than the speed of light. At times, I am at a total loss of understanding myself or the world. I hope to choose directions in life with experience and conscience lighting up my path. No one understands you better than– “

“But what if others misunderstand you? However good you are?

“The people who misinterpret you, as you say, think if they are truly worth all your suffering. Give it a good deal of thought.”

“What if they are?”

“What if they are? Well… Let’s see,” Mary drowned herself into an ocean of thoughts. Audrey’s eyes waited for an answer, as if her entire existence depended on it.

“Well, if there’s someone who does not construe you rightly, despite your innate goodness, is that person really worth it after all? Think about it, Audie. You’re just letting the black horses win. You let them win. You had an option, and you chose not to fight for it. Do not let your dreams steal the light in your soul,” said Marylene. “You have been playing with colours all your life. Don’t waste your colours on those that are blind.”

Audrey nodded approvingly, like a physicist finally beginning to unveil an oblivious concept. She felt better by the time the conversation ended, and she resolved to provide refuge in herself to her newfound confidence.

The day wore off as serenely as it had begun. 

“Sweet dreams,” Marylene said, beaming like a thoughtless child.

“I am so proud of you, Mary,” Audrey said.

“So am I.” 

Audrey crept into bed, uncomfortable at the thought of her last night’s dream, praying solemnly with all her heart for a dreamless sleep ahead. She found it difficult initially, but with Herculean effort, she managed to fall asleep ere the dried leaf, hanging by only a thread of what remained of its once green stalk, fell to the ground.

The dream was livelier than ever before. The clouds held a heavenly glow; the sparkling rays competing with the blue canvas that hosted the clouds. Audrey found herself gently stroking the silver strands of her pink horse’s mane, which were as soft as baby dandelions. The healthy pink mare had well-built limbs and muscles that represented insurmountable strength. Yet it bore in it a touch of gentleness that softened its graceful features. She leant forward, flung her arms around its neck and cried, “Faster!” She noticed a handsome black stallion to her immediate left, its sleek coat as smooth and uniform as the night sky beyond the stars, and a brown one on her right resembling a trained war horse, the only thing missing being a ferocious rider. There were many horses in the race, but she diverted her attention to the path straight ahead. The horses galloped madly towards the petals of blinding light, as Audrey strained hard her eyes to find salvation through it. She felt fatigue surmounting her, streaming through all her veins like electricity, but it was of the good kind. Her nerves protested that she could take no more, but her burning passion counterbalanced the weakness she felt. The black and brown horses were inches ahead of her.

Audrey felt her horse’s muscles going stiff as she braced herself for the worst. The pink horse maneuvered a gigantic leap, during which she opened her eyes to a magical sight of sheer happiness; she felt as light as a feather. So filled was her dancing heart that she wanted to write a poem. Her fairytale vehicle landed like a falling snowflake on a puff of clouds. With her volatile energy fast evaporating, she slowly helped herself to discovery that she was well in front of all the other racing equines, much to her surprise. She laughed heartily.

“Had a good night?” enquired Marylene at breakfast, helping herself from a jar of raspberry jam, sensing her sister’s jubilant mood.

“The dream repeated itself,” answered Audrey, casting a gleeful smile.

“Now, how in the wide world is that possible?”

“It did!” she screamed, laughing merrily. “Thanks to you, it did. And this time, I won!”

When she opened the door to the study in the evening, she found Audrey dozing peacefully in the chair, holding a painting palette in her left hand, with a distorted mixture of crimson and white pastels.

By the window, on a canvas supported by an easel, her eyes fell upon a majestic pink horse standing on its hind legs, no words to match its brilliant radiance. 

“You paint your own dreams,” whispered Marylene, and quietly left the room smiling.