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Part 4, What am I?

The girl was laid on her bed, her arms were spread wide and her eyes were stared devastatedly at the ceiling. She was clutching her phone in her left hand. The screen glowed faintly, showing a white logo. Now it has become much more than just a symbol of the ideology. Is has become the meaning of her existence, the designation of her mortal soul. Was she now really nothing more than a set of ones and zeros? Alan himself called this form "ghostly", which means that the version with the astral was, in fact, correct. Her soul now truly belongs to him, belongs to the walkers and the community. Melissa has become what she dreamed to be, but for some reason she is still scared. She is still in the same body, in the same room, but has her essence remained the same? Although she feels the same as before, her soul has already been irreversibly changed. So does she really feel the same way she used to? Blue symbols still seem to flash before her eyes, or maybe she just feels the changes inside herself. Now she is not alone. She'll never be alone again, right? After all, Alan himself promised her this. He stood right in front of her. He was so close that it was hard to believe, was it really him? Even mentioning that he wasn't completely the same with his real version, but for some reason she seemed to feel that this is Alan. It was definitely his silhouette, his voice, but he was acting so...weird? Maybe Melissa was just too scared and it wasn't real? But talking exactly about his silhouette.. He clearly looked younger than he was, about five years younger or more. And still it was him, Alan Olav Walker. He stood right in front of the girl, in front of her eyes, at arm's length. But she did not say a word, although she had once dreamed of hugging him, she seemed to have merged with the others. She knew very well that her "face" did not display emotions, although she was still not quite used to it. She tried to hide, as if to disguise herself among the others. She was afraid of him, afraid of his condemnation, especially after his speech. She loved him as a religious person loves his God, but she was so afraid. Did she really consider herself unworthy of being called his fan? Perhaps. But why is she still dressing in black? Why is he still posting content on his fan accounts and sitting on the platform? Perhaps this is just her new essence. Had her soul been free before? But when did the real turning point occur? When she first heard Faded? Or when she told her mother about a new idol? Maybe when she first spoke to other fans or started dragging her friends into it? No. This happened much earlier, long before the registration.

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05/12/2020

Hello dear diary. Unfortunately, after this recording, I will have to destroy you. I know it sounds treacherous, but wherever I hide you, she finds you. Today I just want to talk. Forgive me please, but I can't keep going. Everyone hates me. I myself, my mother, my classmates and it feels like even passers-by look at me unpleased. For the past week, I have been spending several hours every day on the swing after the distance lessons. You know, it's a lot more fun than you might think. Except for the views I get from other people, of course. However, I have already learned not to pay attention to them, especially when music is playing in the headphones. I'm still hurt that they all left me, but I'm kind of grateful to them. Because of them I realized one thing: I shouldn't feel devotion and affection to real people anymore. All of them will hate me sooner or later, but without them I feel so lonely. Nobody helped me when I tearfully begged them to do it. Even my mother. It's easier to blame me for my poor physical fitness and asociality, right? But someone was still by my side. Or, more accurately, something. This is the music. So gentle and light, literally penetrating into the very soul and healing it from the inside. To be honest, I am so grateful to its author for all those warm words in his songs. Without them, I would have died this March. I also wrote suicide notes for my mother and lover back then. Okay, let's get back to the musician. Although I have been following his updates and music for almost two years now, I would never dare to call myself his fan. I would never go to his concert, I don't deserve it. But I'm still terribly grateful to him, even though I'm embarrassed about it. I have never seen his face, but I am fascinated by his eyes, figure and the warmth that he gave me without even knowing me. I do not even hope that one day I will become like those who call themselves walkers. To be honest, it sometimes becomes a shame when you realize that you are just an outside observer. One song says "Everyone is lonely sometimes, but I would walk thousand miles to see your eyes, you are not alone, we're family, etc.", I understand that this does not apply to me in any way. Perhaps someday I will have the opportunity to join the ranks of these people, but most likely it is almost impossible. Whatever the case, I can never earn those words no matter what I do. Okay, my mother will be home soon. I'm sorry for what am I doing. I hope you won't get hurt. I love you, but I can't let my mother read my notes. She also checks my phone, despite the fact that I'm already twelve. I'm going to rip out all the pages, then into little pieces, and throw them in the trash can. You may forget me, but that's for the best. Goodbye. Your Anna