Page 288 of Dirty Pleasures


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“Wake up, Kazimir.” Pavel’s words felt like a tether, pulling me back from the abyss of Emily’s subconscious, from the darkness that threatened to swallow me whole. A part of me resisted, wanting to stay, to fight, to protect, but another, deeper part understood the truth in his words.

This was Emily’s journey.

Her battle.

I had to let go.

Mysh, I love you.

The ground vanishing beneath my feet, and the sensation of falling seized me again.

And there was no more Pavel nor the haunting hallway.

Instead, I was enveloped by an abyss, a void where time and space lost all meaning. The darkness was not just around me; it filled me, a cold, suffocating blanket that threatened to erase my sense of self.

Yet, as I fell, a strange serenity began to wash over me too.

The fear, the urgency, the desperate need to heal and protect—it all started to fade, replaced by an eerie calm.

The layers of Emily’s mind peeled away from my senses like layers of an onion.

It was as if by entering the freefall, I had accepted the uncontrollable nature of my deepest fears and my profoundest pains.

But there was a clear separation now.

I was now an observer.

No longer a participant.

I was leaving her mind, and the sensation of falling slowed, as if I were drifting through water.

Slowly, painstakingly, I opened my eyes and the darkness began to ebb, replaced by pinpricks of light, fragments of my own consciousness and blurry faces.

I am back and laying on something hard. But. . .who are all these people around me and in my room?

My eyelids fluttered against the harsh intrusion of reality’s light.

Voices sounded.

Two women were arguing.

I shook my head as if that could give me a better view of the blurry movement in front of me.

Delphine’s voice came through the fog. “You think you’re slick.”

Baba responded. “I do not.”

“I saw that painting in the living room. Did you paint all of her alters yourself?”

“Emily did that all by herself with no coaxing from me.”

“But, I bet you gave her the paint and canvas.”

Baba remained silent.

Shapes and colors blurred into existence, slowly forming into recognizable forms.

I can see now.

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