Nightfall Maiden

That furnaced twilight on the horizon, I do not favor it. It reminds me of slices of remembrance that have evanesced like footprints purged by the drizzle.

I want to narrate the tale of the nightfall maiden. A maiden with eyes of the hue of blistering sunlight, hair the color of nigritude eventide, and a pair of lustrous wings embedded in her back. She dwells in the firmament strip. Alone. Every time twilight chimes, she perpetually sings doleful songs. On this tiny island veiled in stillness, her heart may be like a primordial lighthouse that is exiled from the realm. Like me.

Frequently, she wags her wings, descending to touch the ground. Her being is imperceptible, not visible to anyone but me. Every time I walk home to ford the somber-veiled tarmac, she perennially discharges greetings at me.

"Are you home yet, dearest?"

That was the greeting that always sprung from her lips. There were no other words. Did she not hoard her vocabulary?"

The days flowed like waterfalls. I still often locate her alighting on the reddened horizon. Hurling the classic greeting and aiming a smile at me. Gradually, I discerned her features that were familiar to me. That face was entombed in my remembrance, but I could not gain it. It was fuzzy. It was as if a dense puff of smoke had impeded my eyesight.

***

It was a Saturday afternoon near the shore. The streets were wreathed in gloomy rays. Trees bent. The sea smell wafts over me, and clouds churn over the island’s roof. She accosted me again but uttered different words: "Hey, don’t you remember me?"

"What does that mean? I don't recognize you. Why am I the only one who can see you anyway? It's been 40 days since we met, and I don't know who you are."

She regarded me and expressed, "Not even one? Even though I always say 'home'?" Her eyes looked like waterlogged glass.

"No."

"Oh ... I see." The flicker in her eyes waned. She turned around. Stunned for a moment, then looked up to contemplate at the sky, "That's right, too...."

A chill temperature deploys. The wind was howling, and thunder perched in the sky. She took gentle steps towards the seaside. Afterward, she walked along the anvil of a low brick wall. She swung her arms. She turned her back to me again and gazed at the frontier between the sky and the sea.

Without warning, the rain dismounts in lush torrents—strafing earth. I am soggy. She is soggy. Everything is drenched.

"Hey, remember when we used to sit here? Staring at the dusk far away. However, this is my last day. I wanted to repeat that moment again, but time got in the way."

"I'm sorry ... I'm sorry, Nara." Her tone sounded like the wind rustling through the branches.

She savvied my name. A particular name that only certain people knew. However, why? Who is she?

The wind fluttered her hair. Amidst the fumy vision, I heard the words 'goodbye' escape her lips. Her voice was faint, almost a whisper. She glanced at me. A dismal gaze. Her teardrops slid leisurely, mingling with the lamenting firmament. At the same time, her form faded. Then it fused in the air like a paper flake that was expelled by the wind.

She perished. In the meantime, I continued to freeze. I felt the presence of something penetrating my memory, piecing together the few fragments that had been torn apart. However, the memory was still blanketed in vagueness.

***

The next day, I no longer sighted her in her usual place. She was not there. There was merely a picture of desolate nothingness. Now twilight is delineated like a tree that has lost all its leaves. I cannot hear her greeting echoing. Her smile has been effaced by time.

The days revolve slowly. She still does not expose herself. It has been three days since she dissipated from my sight. I am still delving for clues about her. However, an impasse still clogged me in my tracks.

The face of her farewell at that time skulks into my head eternally. At times, there was a seeping feeling that harrowed my bosom. It was strange. I felt devoid. It was as if a part of me had been confiscated.

Daylight was sizzling behind the window of the room. A yellow glow infiltrated through the curtains. I reclined there helplessly. Sleepiness gripped me. I drifted off, and when I awoke, I realized I was lying on the frosty floor.

At that moment, my eyes caught a piece of newspaper lying face down under the bed. The surface of the newspaper was dusty and bumpy. The paper was yellowed and slightly torn by termites. I grabbed the newspaper. I carried it to the table, depurated it off, and then perused the contents.

'A maiden drowned in the area of a seaside brick wall. A birthday cake and a letter were found at the scene. It was suspected that she slipped into the sea.'

'The search continues. However, the SAR team's efforts have not yielded any results.'

'After 11 days of deadlock, the SAR team finally stopped the search.'

The sentence was displayed, and the photo of the victim was on the edge of the newspaper. Suddenly, my heart was pounding. I felt the blade of a saber lancing my heart.

I remembered her. I remembered, regarding the nightfall maiden. About the maiden in the newspaper, about the birthday, about the twilight of the day, about the drowning, about the letter, about the anti-depressants, about the psychiatrist, about the late arrival, and about everything.

Amidst the glister of memory crystallizing in my mind, there was a knock on the door. Accompanied by a voice as delicate as snow, reciting my name. I recognized that voice! I scurried to the door. The sound of tok-tok still disbanded the sereneness.

I cupped my eyes. I soothingly open the door. The door creaked. When I uncovered my eyes, I saw only the warm wind rippling across my body. The leaves were dancing. In the distance of the skyline, the flaming twilight afflicted across my face. I turned around to stare at the living room. At that moment, there was a whisper whiffling in my ear.

"Are you home yet, dearest?"

Surakarta, March 2024