The Quantum Illusions: Giulia's Journey to the Dreamscapes

I remember the first time I saw her.

It was during a party at my uncle’s house. His wife had passed away two years earlier and he was still in mourning, so I decided to make him happy by showing up unexpectedly with some of my scientific gadgets.

We lived in a small town, in a small country, so the party was no more than 20 people, all blood related. They were all old, older than Uncle and me. His children were already dead, as well as his wife’s; they didn’t have grandchildren yet (nor did we).

I arrived with a suitcase full of gadgets: A gun that could shoot coins, a lighter that could light itself on fire, an umbrella that could protect you from rain… You know these kinds of things. I have been collecting them ever since I was a kid so I had plenty to choose from.

So I showed up to Uncle’s house and everybody loved the gadgets; even though most of them couldn’t use them properly, they still liked them. Especially the coinshot gun: Everybody wanted to try it out and shoot at random things around the house – pictures, empty glasses, furniture…

They got bored after half an hour and many of them started to leave for their home; but Uncle insisted on “making the most out of this situation” by showing me a room in the attic where I could put my suitcase while he would prepare dinner for us. He said it would be more fun if we ate while looking at the stars through one of those telescopes he had bought when he was younger (and more sane).

The attic was filled with junk and dust; only two candles were illuminating it because there was no electricity in there. One candle was placed on top of an old chest filled with old clothes and photo albums. On top of it stood a little girl dressed like a princess: She looked no older than 5 years old, but she had long hair that reached her waist and big hazel eyes that seemed too big for the rest of her body.

She didn’t say anything to me or look at me directly when Uncle brought me into the room; instead she stared at her own feet, trying not to make any noise while moving towards the window located on the opposite side of the door. There were no curtains or blinds blocking it (the owner probably thought nobody would enter such a dusty place), so she opened it without hesitation and jumped out onto the roof outside; leaving behind only a white feather floating in the air.

Uncle told me that she usually went out through that window every night to sing under the stars; apparently she was very good at it: In fact she always mesmerised him when she sang while staring at some point far away from him; he never dared to interrupt her or ask what she saw there – he just enjoyed listening to her voice while thinking about his late wife…

That night he asked me if I wanted to join him at dinner but I refused: That weird little girl had left me quite surprised and intrigued by what she did (or rather who did it) so I spent most of my time watching her singing under the moonlight through that dirty window with an old telescope Uncle let me borrow from his attic collection.

I didn’t understand anything about what she sang – apparently it was some kind of nonsense language – but I enjoyed watching her eyes closed as if she was really into whatever world occupied her mind… She kept singing for about 15 minutes until she stopped suddenly and disappeared behind one corner of the house before reappearing on another balcony across hers, opening its door without any fear for what might hide inside (or outside). Once inside, she took off all her clothes and started jumping around like crazy until her naked silhouette disappeared behind another corner…

I couldn’t wait until morning came!

The next morning, I woke up early, my mind filled with thoughts of the mysterious girl from the night before. I couldn't shake off the image of her dancing and singing under the stars, her voice ethereal and captivating. It was as though she existed in a world of her own, a world that I longed to understand.

With a renewed sense of curiosity, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen where Uncle was already preparing breakfast. He looked tired, his eyes heavy with unspoken grief. I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for enjoying the enchantment of the previous night while he continued to mourn his late wife. I decided to keep my observations to myself for now.

After breakfast, I asked Uncle about the girl, hoping he would shed some light on her mysterious behavior. He sighed and ran a hand through his graying hair before he spoke. "That girl, she's what we call a wanderer," he said, his voice tinged with both sadness and wonder. "She wandered into our town a few years ago, no one knows where she came from. People say that she possesses a strange magic, that she can see things that others cannot."

My interest piqued, I pressed for more information. Uncle continued, "She has been a source of both fascination and fear in our community. Some believe that her songs and dances have the power to heal, while others see her as an omen of misfortune. Many have tried to approach her, but she has always remained distant, like a wisp of a dream."

Uncle's words only deepened my desire to unravel the enigma that surrounded this girl. I decided to take matters into my own hands and explore further. That evening, as the sun began to set and the sky turned into a canvas of vibrant hues, I made my way to the old attic where I had first encountered her.

I stood alone in the dimly lit space, surrounded by relics of the past. The air was heavy with the scent of dust and nostalgia. I glanced at the telescope that had allowed me to witness her mesmerizing performance the night before. It beckoned me, silently urging me to seek out the truth. With trembling excitement, I peered through the eyepiece and directed it towards the balconies where she had vanished.

Time seemed to stand still as I swept the night sky, searching for her. And then, as if the universe itself was guiding me, my gaze fell upon a balcony adorned with vines and flowers. There she was, standing at the edge, her gaze fixated on something beyond the horizon. A soft breeze tousled her long hair, and her naked form shimmered in the moonlight.

I watched in awe as she began to move, her body swaying with an otherworldly grace. Her bare feet barely touched the ground as she danced, her movements fluid and ethereal. And then, she began to sing. Her voice carried on the wind, filling the night with a melodic tune that stirred something deep within me.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from her, captivated by her presence. In that moment, I understood why Uncle was so drawn to her. There was a rawness, a vulnerability to her that resonated with the pain he carried in his heart. I could sense that she too carried a burden, a weight that only she could understand.

As the night wore on, I made a silent vow to unravel the mysteries surrounding this girl. I wanted to know the stories hidden behind her eyes, the secrets whispered by her songs. I was determined to unravel the truth of her existence, even if it meant delving into a realm beyond my own understanding.

Little did I know that this decision would take me on a journey far greater than I could have ever imagined – a journey that would challenge everything I thought I knew about the world, and ultimately, about myself.