Chapter 1.

Change of realities.

Your pretty and beautiful eyes torment me every night in my dreams, your pretty and beautiful red eyes torment me every night and keep me awake; I can't stand the distance between us, even if you're not real my heart is restless because of your absence...

I want to decipher the mystery that hides in the dream of why you come to me. ¿Why can't I see your face even though your eyes continue to torment me?... ¿Who are you?

The secrets I have kept in my heart in the endless nights I have slept projecting you in my thoughts are harder to hide than I thought…

Maybe, I just want to be yours and take your hand without the world interfering, I don't want to wake up to separate from you, I feel like I have flown over clouds close to your beautiful red eyes…

I had always liked to fantasize, possibly it was my parents' paintings and their pictures inspired by landscapes and mystical creatures that made my soul begin to wander in each stroke of the canvas, but deep down, I knew that there was always something special in this type of fantasy paintings that I could not decipher…

But I loved how despite being artists, they had achieved the desired recognition in Magnivia, better known as a Republic with very cultured and art-sensitive people…

It may sound a little silly and at the same time very out of this world, but if I could have a wish, it would be to transport myself to the painting of the red eyes, it is impressive and with an expression indescribable…

It was one of those works that almost no one could understand; my father had done it in his youth when he was my age, 23, now he is 46 and lives in an old castle that he gave to my mother when they really got married…

I would have liked to be like them, who had the opportunity to see something and buy it, however, here I am barely gathering my hopes to leave home, my pocket is bankrupt and I still ask myself the question of how the hell my father managed to buy a castle…

When they got married, the short story is that the former owner had practically given it to them because he wanted to get rid of that old structure, but the long story is full of so many gaps that I'm too lazy to remember them.

I've been dreaming about the boy with red eyes for years, I only see his eyes, I wonder why it's the painting I like to look at the most; I can really spend hours looking at it and not get bored, because in each stroke there is a story that is created in my mind…

I've asked him the fantasy of trying to discover what his face is hundreds of times, but he's only answered that he was very drunk when he painted it at 23 years old and that it was probably just a product of alcohol, but if alcohol made him an interesting artist, I also want to be an artist…

Without thinking, when I looked out one of the windows of the room, the burnt pages of a newspaper came with the wind in front of me and the only phrase I could notice was: if you want it so much it's because it's already yours in the future… may the magic always accompany you until you reach what you want so much….