On the third night, Lina didn’t fall asleep right away.
She lay in the dark.
Tried to read.
After five pages she realized she didn’t remember a single sentence.
She closed the book.
Turned off the lamp.
And asked herself what she was actually waiting for.
There was no answer.
But the moment she closed her eyes, the city was already waiting for her.
This time everything was different.
There was no more wandering.
She knew the way.
The pavement.
The fountain.
The empty benches.
The narrow lane.
The black door.
It was already ajar.
Wide enough for a person to pass through.
Lina stopped.
She remembered last night’s dream.
Remembered what she had said.
She approached hesitantly.
Beyond the door there was neither a room nor a hallway.
Only fog.
It wasn’t hiding anything.
It was waiting.
Lina stepped in.
First step.
Then a second.
After the third, the fog dispersed.
Another part of the city opened up before her.
The houses here were taller.
The streets wider.
But everything felt unfinished somehow.
Some of the buildings’ walls were cracked.
The windows had no glass.
Some balconies hung in the air, as if they’d forgotten what they were attached to.
It seemed the city itself was hiding something.
Or trying to remember something.
She heard footsteps.
For the first time in this city.
She turned around.
Nothing.
The footsteps stopped.
She walked on.
Again.
Tap…
Tap…
Tap…
Something was walking at the same rhythm as her.
Only when she stopped did it stop too.
Lina quickened her pace.
The sound sped up.
She spun around.
Empty.
Only the long street.
And the wind.
Ahead she saw an old theater.
The doors were open.
A single lamp burned inside.
Lina walked in.
The hall held hundreds of empty seats.
There was nothing on the stage.
Only a large mirror.
Not made of glass.
Black.
It didn’t reflect light.
It seemed to absorb it.
Lina came closer.
Nothing could be seen in the mirror.
Only darkness.
Suddenly something emerged from the wings.
Slowly.
Silently.
It was a person.
At least that’s how it looked at first.
It was wrapped in a long gray cloak.
Its face couldn’t be seen.
Only shadow beneath the hood.
The figure stopped a few steps from Lina.
It didn’t move.
And it posed no threat.
The strangest part was that Lina felt no urge to run.
Only curiosity.
– Who are you?
She asked.
No answer.
Only after a few seconds did a voice come.
Calm.
Almost quiet.
– It doesn’t matter.
Lina furrowed her brow.
– Why?
– Because today it’s not my identity that matters.
It’s yours.
The figure raised a hand.
Not toward her.
Toward the black mirror.
– Look.
– I don’t see anything.
– You see as much as you can bear.
Lina stepped closer.
The black glass surface slowly began to brighten.
At first her face appeared.
The one she saw every morning.
Calm.
Composed.
Professional.
Then the image changed.
She saw herself at the university.
Smiling at colleagues.
Then – with a patient.
Patient.
Calm.
A moment later – in childhood.
A little girl.
Another moment – alone in her apartment.
Sitting in the dark.
All the images kept replacing one another.
Too fast.
Lina could no longer keep up with them.
Suddenly everything stopped.
A woman was in the mirror.
She stood with her arms hanging at her sides.
Tired.
Without a smile.
Without any role.
Lina looked at her.
It seemed…
As if she were seeing herself for the first time.
– Is that me?
She asked quietly.
The figure didn’t answer.
Only after a long pause did it ask:
– What would happen…
If everyone saw who you really are?
The question sounded calm.
Without accusation.
Without threat.
Lina wanted to answer.
Her mouth went dry.
Dozens of thoughts spun through her mind.
Patients.
The university.
Her mother.
Childhood.
Colleagues.
She suddenly realized she had not a single answer.
Only fear.
Not about what people would say.
About…
The fact that she herself didn’t know what they would see.
The figure nodded slowly.
As if it had received an answer, even though Lina hadn’t said a word.
Then it stepped back.
And dissolved into the darkness.
Only Lina remained in the theater again.
And the mirror.
Now it was completely ordinary.
It showed only the empty stage.
Lina woke up suddenly.
It was still early.
Half past five.
She sat up in bed.
Her heart was pounding fast.
But not from fear.
From unease.
From that same question.
She picked up the notebook.
Opened a new page.
She held the pen in the air for a long time.
Finally she wrote only one line.
What would happen if everyone saw who I really am?
She didn’t write an answer.
That day the question wouldn’t leave her.
At the university a colleague asked:
– How are you doing?
Lina smiled automatically.
– Fine.
The moment she said it, she realized she’d lied.
Not because she felt bad.
Because she hadn’t even checked how she actually felt.
Later, at the store, the cashier said:
– Have a nice day.
Lina answered in kind.
She didn’t even notice the woman’s eyes.
In the evening her mother called.
– Is everything all right?
– Yes.
The same answer again.
Short.
Convenient.
Correct.
After hanging up, she sat by the window.
The city lived at its own rhythm.
People hurried.
Talked.
Laughed.
Suddenly Lina thought about the dream.
Perhaps the greatest human fear isn’t being rejected.
Perhaps the greatest fear…
Is never finding out who you really are.