The Beginning: Red summer night

“I used to have a scary dream. Like a horror movie.

It was a red summer night. The red sky, the red leaves of phoenix flower, the red blood, the fiery red fire burning the last glimmers of the eyes, liberating humankind from the terrible darkness that has besieged for half a century.  It was a revolutionary summer night, the final battle between humankind and the parallels. On that night, the last drop of water spilled over, the miserable human race reached its limit and stood up. Like a swarm of fearless bees rushing forward, like jihadist knights marching in silver armor, all the men and women, the old and young, raised their burning torches in the sky, sang the same tragic tune, gradually tightened the siege, cornered all the enemies into a huge school surrounded by layers of stone walls. The large clock on the tall rooftop was counting the last moments, the people left in the school rushed out to gather in ear-piercing boos. I felt like I was in a state of whirlpool, desperately running upstream of the scattered people, searching in the dark corners, screaming for my lost brother's name. Finally, I found the poor child, standing opposite a twin. They didn't seem to mind each other's existence, like two reflections of a same child on two mirrors, coming towards me from the opposite sides. Just like the times when they woke up in a dreamy night and called for their sister to embrace, the two children raised their little hands, called me with the same immature voices, looked at me with the same earnest eyes. They are too similar. I know that people out there will not allow me to bring them both out, can't leave a single seed of that species. The fire was stronger, and in just a few seconds, the wind will blow to this place. Somehow, I recognized my real brother, rushed to pick him up and ran. In the last instant, I suddenly turned my head and saw the other child.  He did not scream, did not block the way, did not show the ferocious nature of his species, just silently looked at me. From the corner of his eye, a tear fell down, then sunk into the sea of ​​fire.

Inside the stone wall, behind the locked iron gate, with terrifying screams, the layers of hell opened, the night struggled and died. Outside, all mankind stood still, watcged the heat of summer, the heat of the great pyre that consumed the last evil souls.

By the time the bright dawn appeared on the horizon, when the layer of dust and ash no longer scattered in the howling wind, there was a vast black field in front of eyes. The long nightmare in the human heart was swept away.

After that, everyone gradually returned to their usual life, the family reunited happily. But I still remember the look and the last tear of the child left in the sea of ​​​​fire, still wonder if my choice was right. Forever, that child becomes a curse carved into my life, a wound that will never be healed in my heart.”

Clack.

I press the button, pull out the USB and put it back into the envelope.

- Sometimes I feel as if there is a common thought space for all of humanity, like a supercomputer that can hold a huge amount of information. Every single idea or thought is submitted to this space, and anyone can d******d it. For example, when you have a great business idea, but because of many things, you don't execute it or haven't completed executing it, then a few years later, someone else has the same idea, goes into business and gains great success. Or when you come up with a very interesting plot, if you don't develop it, soon someone will catch it and write a story for a timeline. You know, it's just one of the ways this life plays tricks on people.

- I don't quite agree. From idea to action is a very long and arduous process. To think that someone is successful just because they come up with a good idea is a mistake.

- Maybe so. Anyway, I'm used to pushing the cause of everything on other people.

The flashback dissipate, and I begin to wonder why thinking about the conversation with a patient from many years ago.

Perhaps because my mind starts connecting that common thought space and the root of the subconscious. Like… at some moments, suddenly a thought pops into your head, unbelievable thought you never ever thought you could have. Sometimes that thought makes no sense. Sometimes it makes you extremely happy or extremely sad. And sometimes, it urges you to put your feet in the devil's paths. Maybe that's the reason why that normally gentle sister who didn't even want to kill an ant was not present at the property dispute court, but waited in front of her brother's house with a knife in her sleeve, then stabbed the victim thirteen times to death, and fainted herself. When waking up, she said that she had not remembered what she did to her brother, but did not reacte strongly to the bad news, either, only narrated the dream about the Doppelgänger as an explanation for her actions then, and bit her tongue to commit suicide. Although there is no need for further testing, I still wonder if the sister’s story is true. It is not whether the evil twin is real, but whether she really believes in the Doppelgänger’s existence. Afterall, in her world, the one murdered was the evil twin or her younger brother? And is this story a more poetic murder motivation than property dispute, or just her mind's way of defending against the utter disappointment with the change of the person she once loved?

Or perhaps it is just because I start believing so much in the existence of such a common thought space, when that sister's dream and mine were so similar. Even though I have never had a brother.

The phone suddenly rings. I pick up the phone, curtly say “Thank you” once, pack up my bag, put on the coat and walk out. Still have some time for me to pass by the coffee machine and get a hot cup, swirl it between my palms, let the heat flies around my face. That is so comforting. The small, soft purple-blue flowers fluttering in the glass jar placed on the front desk catch my eyes. A beautiful flower, but I hate its name, and its story, too. “Forget me not”. If I were that girl, this flower would be called “Forget me”, “Forget me, and live, my beloved. I wish all the best for you.”

There is laughter coming from the guest room. Gathering cheerfully at ten o'clock in the morning like that, Uncle Thanh must have recruited a new spry receptionist.

- Once upon a time, at the beginning of time, this heirloom clinic had a very knowledgeable name, “Tam Huu Linh Te” (means Soulmate). - As usual, the story is being told by Rich, a small employee of the insurance company next door whose father is the general manager.

- Then five years ago, on a stormy rainy day, the tree fell and fell, as an arrangement of nature, the second and fourth letters on the signboard were wiped and the paint peeled off. At that time the clinic was still poor, did not have money to immediately repair it, Uncle Thanh, the owner of the clinic, planned to leave it there for one or two months. However, strangely, since then, like a miracle, and only a miracle can do, the clinic earned more and more revenue. Uncle Thanh, a spiritual expert, decided to remain it that way. From then, the clinic was named as “Tam Linh” (means Spiritual).

While version one has just ended, version two is immediately aired under the 120-decibel-voice of the Sponger tribe's chief - Fong ge, a stockbroker from the company downstairs. Her nickname is a combination of the movie “High kick”, because of the motto “where there's food, there's me” and the personality can not be more manly. To talk about her rapping skill, even Eminem has to bow down, so it is just impossible to recall verbatim, briefly, about five years ago, in a stormy day, there was a girl whose umbrella was blown away, came to this clinic by heaven's fate. Since then, with inexplicable ability to attract customers, she has revived a building that was never golden but was on the verge of collapse, and wrote a golden page of history. After that, more and more talents came, together built a golden times.

Well, guess, that Maneki Neko is me.

I look at my watch, throw the paper cup in the trash, and lift the erratic door to open. In this changeable season, as soon as you step out, the wind from every direction will blow you hard, like nature is playing pictures with a wind slipper. Moreover, it is also so frozen that numbe your face. Fortunately, the car arrives in front of me quickly. The driver also thoughtfully get out of the car and open the door for me, like serving an upper class lady. Well, he’s still a salmon.