Chapter 7
Hanna
His eyes hold something so gentle that I would love to lose myself in them.
"Did you have beautiful dreams?" he asks.
What? No!
Suddenly, I realize what just happened.
How could I?
"Do you want to tell me about it?" he adds with a warm tone. He sounds as if there's nothing he'd like more than to know the world I just woke up from.
Hastily, I take a step back. These daydreams belong to Hanna Daydreamer, and I can't be her. Many years ago, I vowed never to show anyone what goes on inside me when I get lost in my dreams. It was the best decision of my life.
He takes a step toward me, seemingly in a trance. "It was beautiful there, wasn't it?"
He needs to stop asking such questions because I'll never answer them. An immediate memory wells up in me, and my heart becomes heavy. But at the same time, I know how important it is not to forget. Ultimately, it helps me to keep experiencing the consequences of my daydreaming, and today, it's the moment when I stood on the stage in front of the entire school to present my project for beautifying the school building.
Everyone was there. Not just my classmates but also my family. The neighbors had come and even the priest. Without considering the possible consequences, I lost myself on that stage in my daydreams.
I didn't just talk about blue walls and wild-patterned curtains. In my mind's eye, I also saw colorful cushions where we could sit. And an improvised village shop where we could sell fruits and vegetables while learning mathematics.
I forgot where I was and only saw the image of a school where one didn't have to sit still to receive an education.
The vision in my mind was so vivid that I desperately wanted to share it with everyone. With my eyes closed, I delivered a passionate speech. I not only spoke about what I saw but also about what I heard, smelled, and tasted at that moment. And about how it would feel to learn every day with joy and curiosity.
It was an entirely new kind of school. And it was fantastic.
But it was only fantastic for me.
As I lifted my eyelids after my presentation, a blissful grin on my face, the teachers stared at me in shock. My classmates whispered excitedly to each other and giggled mockingly.
"Hanna Daydreamer," one of them suddenly shouted.
Everyone in the auditorium heard it. Laughter filled the room immediately.
Nausea surged within me. As the "Hanna Daydreamer" chants grew louder, my stomach tightened relentlessly. Seeking help, I looked at my mother. I needed nothing more than a reassuring smile or a loving nod. Just anything that would show me how wrong it was for the others to laugh at me. But all I received was an ashamed look before she turned away, apologizing to the principal for my behavior, feeling embarrassed.
Back then and even now, I swallow hard. That experience seared into my soul, and it was far from the only one. It took a long time, but eventually, I understood how useless and senseless my imagination was.
It's a curse.
As much as I try, I can't turn it off, but I have at least learned to hide it. And today, I must do that more than ever. After all, I want Vico to see me as a businesswoman, not a ridiculous daydreamer.
Not knowing what else to do, I grab my camera and escape from him, taking random pictures. Only when I feel like I have control again do I dare to look at him.
His gentle expression is gone. Once again, he shows me his weary face. I have no idea why, and it doesn't matter. It helps me play my role.
"This will be the foyer." I try to sound matter-of-fact. That's what businesswomen do, I think. "Is there direct access to the outdoor area?"
He clears his throat. "Of course." He points at the glass door leading to a terrace.
I head toward the door, spotting a crooked pergola and dead plants in terracotta pots. But when I try to open it, the handle comes loose in my hand.