The Illusion Of Freedom
The hollow garden Rule no 1: A spirit has no gender or permanent form.. In the human realm, people only perceive it as smoke,wind or a faint shadow
Into the Void called The Hollow Garden:
The Hollow Garden is not silent because it is empty—
it is silent because something listens.
There is no sky, yet darkness stretches endlessly above, fractured by floating crystal shards that glow like frozen screams. Ruined stone drifts without gravity, suspended as if time itself has rotted and forgotten how to move. No wind breathes here, no water flows, no life grows. Even sound feels afraid to exist.
The air is thick, unseen, heavy—pressing against the mind rather than the body. Thoughts echo longer than they should, twisting into something unfamiliar. The ground does not feel solid, only remembered, as if it once belonged to a world that died badly.
At the center, unseen eyes flicker, watching without blinking. Every human sin ever whispered, every violent desire never acted upon, festers here—feeding the Void.
The Hollow Garden does not punish.
It waits.
And when it answers, it gives birth.
The Spirit “I open my eyes.
Where am I?
What… is this place?
Ah.
I am home.
My void.
The place where I was born.
The place where I came into existence.
This is the Hollow Garden.
Can humans find me here?
I don’t know.
Perhaps they can.
Perhaps they already have.
Because I walk among them.
I stand beside them.
I breathe where they breathe.
I do not live in the world they see—
I live in their minds,
in their hearts.
I was not created by gods or demons.
I was born from them.
From human desire.
From corruption.
Every sinful intention, every quiet cruelty, every unconfessed wish for harm—
all of it gathered,
and gave me life.
The Hollow Garden is not empty.
It is filled with spirits like me—
millions upon millions—
each born from human sin.
And this…
This is how it all began.”
Indianapolis, 2000. January
Jacob Sullivan was twenty-five years old—a hardworking, responsible son and a dependable employee at a small restaurant called Dine O’ Come.
He spent most of his life working, never wasting a single minute. To Jacob, time was not something to be spent—it was something to be honored.
Everyone at the restaurant respected him. Customers trusted him. His coworkers admired him.
He carried himself with kindness, patience, and discipline.
Yet, as with all humans, Jacob was not untouched by darkness.
Because no one is entirely good.
Deep within every human heart, sin waits—silent, patient—watching for the moment when it can consume a soul and corrupt it forever.
In the Restaurent Dine O’Come
“Jacob,” a voice called from the kitchen. “Can you take this order to Table Two?”
It was Johanna Miller, a fellow employee—and one of Jacob’s closest friends.
“Coming right away,” Jacob replied without hesitation.
He picked up the plate and walked toward the table. As he set the food down, the customer smiled politely.
“We’ve been searching for a place that serves good food,” the man said. “We found your restaurant. I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
Jacob smiled warmly.
“Thank you, sir. And trust me—it is good. This is the best restaurant around.”
“I hope so,” the customer replied with a quiet chuckle.
Jacob nodded and returned to the billing counter.
Moments later, Johanna stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Johanna,” Jacob said gently, glancing at the clock. “I think it’s time to close. It’s already nine.”
“Yes, Jacob,” she replied.
Then, after a brief pause, she smiled softly.
“Do you think we should grab something to eat before heading home?”
Jacob thought for a moment, then nodded.
“That’s a great idea. Even though it’s late, I think it’ll be good for both of us.”
Together, they settled the cash, cleaned the tables, mopped the floor, washed the dishes, and finally flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED.
The restaurant fell silent.
They sat across from each other at a small table, ready to have dinner.
Johanna broke the silence.
“Jacob… you’ve been working here for years now. What do you really think about this place?”
Jacob leaned back slightly, his eyes drifting around the quiet room.
“When I look at this restaurant,” he said slowly, “I feel peace. Yes, it’s tiring—dealing with customers, maintaining everything—but that’s what I work for. That’s how I earn my living.”
He paused.
“I love serving people. That’s what humans do—we serve, we provide. That’s what The One taught us.”
Then he looked at her and smiled.
“And having a friend like you here… I know I can rely on you, Johanna. Thank you—for always being good to me.”
Jacob turned the question back to her.
“What about you? What does this place mean to you?”
Johanna lowered her gaze for a moment before answering.
“This place…” she said softly, “…is where I finally feel stress-free.
She looked up at Jacob, her eyes gentle but tired.
“But here—with you—working, talking, sharing meals… I forget everything else. I can breathe. I can enjoy myself.”
She smiled faintly.
“Thank you, Jacob, for being good to me too.”
Johanna hesitated for a moment, her fingers lightly gripping the edge of the table.
Then, with a shy breath, she looked at Jacob.
“Jacob… can I ask you something?”
Jacob smiled gently. “Sure. What is it?”
Johanna lowered her eyes. “I’ve known you for some time now, but I’ve always wondered… do you have a girlfriend? Or… do you like someone?”
Jacob stiffened slightly, caught off guard. A faint nervousness crossed his face.
“No,” he replied softly. “I don’t have anyone, Johanna. Maybe I’m not ready yet. For me, being in a relationship means a lot. It’s not something built on human ideas—it’s designed by The One above. So I’ll wait… for the right person.”
Johanna looked at him with quiet admiration.
“I see,” she said warmly. “You have so much wisdom. I feel very blessed to be working alongside you.”
Her words were sincere—but unspoken within her heart was the truth:
She had asked because she loved him.
Yet fear held her back—fear of rejection, fear of losing even the friendship they shared.
She glanced at the clock on the wall and rose slightly from her seat.
“It’s getting late,” she said. “I don’t think I’ll get a bus now.”
Jacob stood immediately. “Don’t worry. I’ll drop you home.”
Johanna shook her head shyly. “No, Jacob. It’s okay. You should go home.”
“It’s fine,” he replied kindly. “We’re friends. I’ll drop you. Just wait outside the restaurant.”
She didn’t argue again.
Outside, winter had wrapped the city in silence. Snow covered the streets, and the narrow alley glowed faintly under flickering street lamps. Johanna stood there, her breath visible in the cold air, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time. It felt unreal—like a dream.
Moments later, Jacob’s car pulled up.
“Johanna!” he called. “Get in.”
“Thank you,” she said softly as she slid into the seat.
“You don’t have to thank me,” Jacob replied with a smile.
After a few quiet minutes on the road, Jacob spoke again.
“Back at the restaurant… you asked me about my relationship. What about you, Johanna? Do you like someone?”
She stared ahead, her voice gentle and careful.
“I don’t have anyone. Sometimes I wish there was someone who loved me.”
Jacob glanced at her briefly, then back to the road.
“Be patient, Johanna. The One will give you a suitable partner for you at the right time.”
She sat beside him, her heart pounding. She wanted to tell him the truth—so badly—but the words refused to leave her lips.
Jacob, however, only saw her as a dear friend.
Soon, they reached her home. Johanna stepped out of the car and turned back.
“Thank you once again, Jacob.”
“It’s late,” he said. “Go inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As his car disappeared down the snowy road, Johanna remained standing there, alone beneath the dim streetlight.
She whispered to herself, her voice trembling with longing:
“Jacob… it’s you whom I love. I just can’t say it.
I hope one day… I’ll find the courage.”
When Jacob finally reached home, the house was unusually quiet.
His father sat alone on the couch, the television flickering softly in the darkened living room.
Jacob paused at the doorway.
“Father… it’s late. You still haven’t gone to bed?”
His father smiled faintly, eyes still on the screen.
“Oh, my son, I think I should be the one asking that question. Why are you home so late?”
Jacob loosened his jacket.
“We had many customers today. Closing and arranging everything took longer than usual. I already had dinner at the restaurant.”
He hesitated for a moment.
“Where’s Mother? Is she asleep?”
“Yes,” his father replied gently. “She’s sleeping. And you should too.”
Jacob nodded.
“Yes, Father. Good night.”
The Next Morning
“Here,” Mr. Sullivan said, handing over a bag of groceries. “Take these. Is Jacob awake yet?”
“I’m not sure,” Mrs. Sullivan replied, still tying her apron. “Maybe—”
“Yeah… yeah. I’m awake.”
Jacob stepped out of his room, rubbing his eyes.
His mother turned toward him with a soft smile.
“Your father told me you came home late last night. What happened?”
Jacob explained calmly, his voice steady.
“And the girl?” his mother asked. “Did she get home safely?”
“Yes, Mom. I dropped her.”
Mrs. Sullivan smiled warmly.
“That’s good, my son. That’s how a man should act.”
She glanced at her husband playfully.
“I wish your father were more like that.”
“Honey,” Mr. Sullivan said without looking up, “you know I can hear you.”
“Oh, relax,” she laughed. “I’m just teasing. Enough talking—let’s have breakfast.”
As they ate, Mrs. Sullivan studied Jacob for a moment before speaking.
“Jacob… you’re twenty-five now. Have you ever thought about marriage?”
Jacob nearly choked on his tea.
“No, Mom,” he said shyly. “Not yet. I think I need more time. Besides… I don’t even have a girlfriend.”
His father chuckled.
“That’s fine, young man. Just tell us when you’re ready.”
“Yes, Dad.”
Jacob stood up.
“I should go now.”
“Don’t be late again like last night,” his mother said.
“Yes, Mom.”
He smiled.
“Thanks for breakfast.”
Moments later, Jacob pulled out of the garage and merged into the busy morning streets, music playing softly as the city woke around him.
At the Restaurant
He arrived quickly.
Parking his car, Jacob opened the shutters, refilled the stock, cleaned the tables, and flipped the sign to OPEN.
He sat behind the billing counter, scrolling through his phone, waiting for customers.
The bell chimed.
Jacob stood up.
“Welcome—”
“It’s me.”
He froze.
“Johanna?”
He frowned slightly.
“Why are you wearing a mask and sunglasses at this hour?”
She hesitated.
“Remove them, Johanna,” he said gently. The mask is fine—but sunglasses? Not here.”
After a pause, she agreed.
When she removed the glasses, Jacob’s breath caught.
Bruises darkened the edges of her eyes. Swelling traced her skin.
“What happened?” he asked softly. “Johanna… are you okay?”
She smiled—a small, fragile smile.
“It’s nothing, Jacob. I just fell.”
Without thinking, Jacob reached out and gently lowered her mask.
Scratches.
Swelling.
Bruises along her lips.
His voice trembled.
“What happened to you?”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly.
“Last night, near where you dropped me… there was a pit for a small pond. I fell into it. That’s all.”
Jacob searched her face.
“Are you sure? You shouldn’t be working like this. You should go home.”
She hesitated.
“No… I don’t want to go home right now. I’ll leave early today.”
She looked down.
“Sorry for the trouble, Jacob.”
“No,” he said firmly.
“No trouble at all.”
He gestured to a chair.
“Sit there. Rest. I won’t let you work in this condition.”
She looked up, surprised.
“If you need anything,” Jacob added quietly,
“tell me.”
Johanna obeyed Jacob without question.
She took a nap, bowing her head gently against the table, exhaustion weighing heavier than her words ever could.
Jacob continued working alone. Even as his hands stayed busy, his eyes returned to Johanna again and again—watching, checking, making sure she was still breathing easily, still there.
When lunchtime arrived, Jacob prepared a simple soup. Nothing fancy—just warm, gentle food. He carried it to her with care.
“Johanna… Johanna,” he said softly. “Wake up. I made something for you. Please eat.”
She stirred, lifting her head slowly. When she realized he had cooked just for her, something inside her chest tightened. Her feelings—already fragile—sank deeper.
Jacob smiled faintly.
“Hey… what are you thinking? Aren’t you hungry?”
“No,” Johanna replied quietly. “I was just wondering… why are you so good to me? I feel like I’m troubling you.”
Jacob shook his head.
“Trouble? No. I’m just doing what a good friend should do. Humans are beautiful creations of The One. And you—” he paused, then smiled again, “—you’re my good friend.”
“Friend… yes,” Johanna said aloud.
But inside her heart, her voice trembled.
I wish I could be more than a friend, Jacob. I wish freedom was meant for everyone.
Jacob stood.
“Eat. If you need anything, tell me.”
As he turned toward the kitchen, Johanna asked softly,
“Jacob… have you eaten?”
“I will,” he replied. “Later.”
She nodded, saying nothing more.
After finishing her meal, Johanna rested again—this time gazing toward the window. She watched Jacob work, his movements steady, focused, kind.
“I don’t know when I’ll confess to you,” she whispered to herself.
“Tomorrow… or maybe never.”
Tears slid down her bruised, swollen face.
It was 9 p.m. The shop usually closed at 11.
Johanna stood and called out, stopping at the kitchen entrance.
“Jacob… I’m leaving. I’ll take the bus.”
He stepped out.
“Take care, Johanna. Make sure you rest.”
She hesitated.
“And Jacob… I won’t be coming tomorrow. I need to take a leave.”
“That’s fine,” he said gently. “No problem at all.”
He walked from behind the counter and hugged her.
In that moment, Johanna felt warmth she had never known—a safety she had only ever felt once before, with her mother.
She hugged him back.
Then she left.
Jacob worked alone the rest of the night. Customers laughed, talked, praised the food. He smiled, served, endured.
At 10:30, he began closing—cleaning the kitchen, settling the cash, flipping the sign to CLOSED.
As he mopped the dimly lit floor, something caught his eye.
A faint shine.
He stepped closer.
A ring.
Old. Worn.
Johanna’s seat.
Is she married? he wondered.
“I should return it,” he murmured.
Tomorrow—no… she won’t be here tomorrow.
He slipped the ring into his pocket.
Thirty minutes later, Jacob stood outside Johanna’s house.
As he opened the gate, something felt wrong.
The ground.
The field.
There were no pits.
Why is the ground untouched?
Did Johanna lie to me? But… why?
Unease crept into his chest.
As he reached for the doorbell—
A scream.
Crying.
From inside.
Jacob rushed to the window.
And when he looked—
Tears fell from his eyes.
What he saw was too disturbing for words.
And the warmth he once felt shattered into silence.
And what He saw is that........
