Half an hour and some. That’s how long it took Thea to break into the nearly 6 inch deep ice. She only had the moonlight to guide her so it took longer than expected. Satisfied with her work, she dropped to a sitting position beside her sister.

“This takes me back a few.” Massaging her wrist, she spoke with a quiet almost nostalgic tone. “Who would’ve thought it’d take this long, hmm?”

The body laying beside her held no comment.

Thea sighed and got to her knees, pulling the corpse by the head to the opening she made. In a gentle, practiced motion, she guided the head into the ice cold water. No bubbles rose. The black water swallowed Summer’s head down to the last vertebrae on her neck.

Then came the shoulders.

As rigor mortis had set in, it was quite hard angling those joints inwardly to allow a smooth absorption. Thea had to rise again, using the shovel to chip a bit more off the ice, widening the frosted pelvis. Her breathing was a bit labored as she fell back on her knees to guide the heavy corpse deeperS into the lake.

It was barely wide enough but the broadest part of the cadaver finally went through into the thirsty gap. Thick black water pulsed upwards, soaking Thea’s clothes, spreading across the white delivery surface. With a quiet plop!, her sister’s body disappeared into the abyss, sinking down with the weight of death and rocks. Back to the darkness. Back to where it belonged.

Back into the womb.

The novice midwife leaned forward, so low the cold water lightly brushed her forehead. There was a weightlessness about her shoulders. One that came when an 11 year long labour had finally come to an end. With a sigh, she breathed into the quickly stilling water, a string of Latin words.

Ex pulvere es et pulvis revertetur.

The front porch was already covered with a layer of snow by the time she returned. It seemed at some point during the burial, it had started snowing. It was only when she sat by the porch stairs did she notice how cold her puffs of breath were. It was so cold it made her lips tint a dark shade of blue.

It’d been roughly three days and nights with no food or water.

It was only a matter of time. All she had to do was sit and wait. Wait till her organs give out from the lack of food and she dies of dehydration and starvation. Or wait till the snow mummifies her and erodes her bones, dying of pneumonia. Either way, the moment was here. The moment she took her last breath. This blessing seemed to be so far away from her, all these years. But it was finally here.

She won.

A silhouette of a younger Theresa in the kitchen, holding a knife appeared in Thea’s vision. With great effort, she raised her lips to smile at the lost child.

The action caused the silhouette to glance at her, slightly startled. Dropping the knife, she extended her tiny hand towards her.

Covered in a think blanket of snow and a sunken stomach, Thea raised her arm one last time.

They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you truly die.

I guess the final trip down memory lane is here.

Alright then.

12 YEARS AGO

“Did you hear about Miss Evangel’s son?”

11 year old Theresa looked up from her Basic Tech workbook to frown at her friend, Jessica who just entered class holding an equally frowning expression.

It was breaktime. The class was empty, the windows open, allowing streams of sunlight to bath the colorful walls that held multiple study posters like the times-table, period table and so on. Everyone else was out playing in the field but she had to complete homework. She was a bit behind. The plan was to present it to their class teacher, Miss Evangel before the end of the day but she never came in.

“What? What happened to him? Is he not in Faller town visiting?”

“Mm. But they say the plague has reached West regions. He caught it. Dead as a brick. What I heard the teachers whisper.”

Theresa’s brows scrunched up. “Dead?”

“Yes. Like gone.”

“I- I know what that means.” Her hand tightened over her pen. “Well not completely- when you say gone, where exactly? Where can he go after he dies?”

Jessica blinked, not exactly thinking that far. “I’m not sure. But he isn’t here anymore. Ever. Anyways that’s why Miss Evangel isn’t coming back.”

“Why?”

“Her son is dead.” Jessica shot her a disapproving look. “It’s a grieving time. When someone grieves they have to go away for a while. That’s what my Ma says.”

“Is Miss Evangel… sad?”

“Of course. Really really sad. No more teaching probably.”

A ball of discomfort formed in Theresa’s stomach. “But she’s my favorite...”

“That’s just life, T. You just have to accept it.” Noticing her friend’s dampened mood, she took Theresa’s arm and quickly pulled her up. “Pa says so all the time. Don’t worry. The plague will stop soon. Come on. Let’s play.”

Theresa allowed herself to be dragged to the playground. Allowed herself to catch the ball thrown to her.

But the knots within kept forming.

She’s my favourite teacher.

The plague didn’t stop.

For the next 5 months, Theresa continued to hear news of people in farther towns ‘dropping dead like flies’. She later heard the virus was the type to eat slowly. So it was never a quick death. It was like a cold that kept getting worse. That was Alma’s explanation.

The school’s headmaster also explained to the students during assembly. That death was simply a bridge. That our neighboring town residents are just in a better place. And we can only pray for the ones left in those towns. As the virus was transmitted through touch, the affected settlements were on lockdown. No one could go in or out. A quarantine. He said it was a good thing. It meant they in Summerside had nothing to be worried about.

Theresa couldn’t help but frown during that assembly. Wasn’t that just a prison? Like the ones they took the burglars to? Never to come out. How can their home turn to a prison? How is that a good thing?

Nothing was getting better. Theresa’s aunt, San was also in one of the quarantined towns. The family called her frequently. She said it was alright. That the radios were making a whole big deal. Aunt San promised to visit by winter with new chocolates.

She never came.

What did was a phone call from her husband. 10 seconds into that call, her Ma screamed. It was so loud, her wail. It even woke Ether from her sleep. The child’s cries and her mother’s sobs, Theresa couldn’t hear anything else. The noise remained long after the house returned to silence.

Her Ma didn’t talk much in the days after that. She always wore white. Or black sometimes. And her eyes were so red. Too red. Didn’t look possible. It didn’t look like she was eating either.

Emmanuel said Ma’s grieving cause Aunt San is gone. But isn’t Aunt in a better place?, Theresa thought at that moment. There was no need to be so sad.

She didn’t like how sad her Ma was. It made her sad. And it made the ball in her stomach grow spikes that hurt everytime she breathed too loudly. For this reason, she too grew quiet with time.

It was so quiet all around her. Even when it wasn’t. Anytime the phone rang at home, she find herself stiffening. Every time a call was picked, her shoulders braced for a scream.

At school, Jessica also started looking like Ma. She said her brother had to leave town cause of work. But they hadn’t heard from him in days. The worry on her face made her look older than she should.

One day, Jessica broke down and cried on Theresa’s shoulder. She said her brother was dead. There was an accident on his way back. That’s what she said. So she cried. And cried. And cried. All over Theresa’s uniform were tears and snot from her best friend. The Jessica she knew always had a bright smile. But she was so sad today. And she couldn’t do anything about it. Even when she gave her her lunch, Jessica vomited everything.

Was grief a sickness too?

A slow one like that virus. That slowly sucks your happiness. Eats everything that made you you. Then it leaves you empty. Like a shell.

Does grief make empty men?

I don’t want to catch this illness.

I don’t want to become an empty man.

Jessica stopped coming to school after her breakdown. The seat beside Theresa felt empty and cold. Apparently without her brother’s support, Jessica’s family has to quickly sell their things and move out to a cheaper settlement ahead of time.

As time passed, Theresa grew very sensitive to sounds. In school, at home, on the street, in her head. Every little sound bothered her. She kept flinching at them.

Excited shouts sounded like screams of terror, laughter sounded like sobbing, clapping sounded like thunder, the ring of the school bell sounded like a funeral tolling sound.

Her quickly eroding mind housed thoughts she could not suspend.

What was that sound? Did something happen again? Did I walk the dog today? Did someone die? Who is grieving this time? My friend or my brother or his friend? Which teacher is leaving? What uncle is about to call? What was I just thinking? Who is leaving? Did I see Summer today? She looked sick. Is she grieving? What happened to Miss Evangel? She never came back? My friend or my brother or his friend? Who is grieving this time? What was I just thinking? Is Pa going on another business trip soon? I need to stop him. Who walked the dog? Who is grieving this time? She never came back? Who never came back? Jessica! Jessica, are you alive? Did you make another friend sick? That sound what happened now? My friend or my brother or his friend? Did something happen again? What uncle is about to call? Did I see Ether today? I need to stop him. Who walked the dog? What was I just thinking? Is she grieving? Wait who is she? Whose friend did you make sick this time? Who is leaving? My friend or my brother or his friend? I need to stop him. Jessica. Have you come back? Why didn’t you tell me? Did I lose the dog? My friend or my brother or his friend? What was I just thinking? Why didn’t you tell me? Chrissy. Chrissy are you grieving? Who exactly? Your friend, his brother or his friend?

The anxiety sprouted lean and spindly roots that dug deeper and deeper into her subconscious.

But her daily life continued without any major events. Her family remained present and loving. Emmanuel always bought her sweets. Summer took her to the market on Friday evenings so she could feed the pigeons. Christina taught her how to sing and Alma bought her new books to read so she could expand her vocabulary and do better in school.

And Ma. Ma was all better. She didn’t care that Theresa had already grown 11 years. Whenever Theresa asked for help in her assignments, she’d pull her up to sit on her lap while they worked together solving it. Pa taught her how to fish every Saturday, right before he visited Church with Summer and their dog, Derry.

‘The lake was so kind.’ He’d say this while he prepared the rods. ‘You could tell it all your deepest secrets and the waves would take it all away, never telling a soul’.

She loved her family so much. Especially Ether who clung to her tightly whenever she attempted walking. She loved them all so much.

But look. Look at Jessica. Jessica loved her brother too, didn’t she? And he still died. And she was so sad. She didn’t look like Jessica. She looked like a ghost. She looked scary. Something had come and eaten her friend and thrown up a fake. That was not her Jessica.

That was what the grief illness did. It ate and ate until you lost yourself, until you were empty, until you were nobody, until you completely disappeared.

Everyday, Theresa woke up fearing for the worst.

At night, she’d check Summer’s chest to make sure it was rising and falling. Eventually, it wasn’t enough. She started sneaking out, floating along the corridors, peeking into everyone’s room to make sure that they were still there, safe and sound.

The floor boards would queitly creak under her sock covered feet. It sounded so loud but no one ever caught her.

It didn’t feel enough. Just looking inside. So she started appearing by their bed side. Watching. That rise and fall of Ether’s chest. That steady snore from her parents. That incoherent murmur from the twins during their shared dreams. That habitual roll of Manuel’s body to find a colder spot in bed. She’d check them off like a list every night.

It wasn’t enough.

The roots in her brain grew thicker and healthier, feeding on her paranoia.

The ritual became a two time thing. Then three. Then four. Atleast four times at night, she’d make sure everyone was alive. Again again and again.

Still not enough.

She had to stay up. What if they died while she was sleeping? What if one was choking in their sleep and she wasn’t there to call for help?

She would fall asleep then her mind would scream.

Wake up.

She’d fall.

Wake up.

And fall.

Wake up!

And fall.

At some point, Theresa began sleeping with her eyes open.

Her heart pounded every moment she was awake. Especially at night when she couldn’t easily access everyone. When she couldn’t hear any movement In the house so it was impossible to know if there was any living person aside her there. When she couldn’t just up and go to the next class during lunch to make sure her friends hadn’t swallowed a bone and died.

She started thinking. Of how she’d feel when the time finally came. Because it was coming. Eventually. She couldn’t escape it. Maybe Pa. Or Emmanuel. Ether even. They said babies fall sick easily. Same as dogs. Derry could easily catch a disease. Or maybe he’d fall from a tall building when no one was watching. A clock was ticking. Loudly. How could she prepare? How would she manage it? Would she ever be able to smile again when Summer was in the ground?

It’s been a full year since Jessica moved away, Theresa awoke with heavy eye bags. Her cheeks were just as sunken. Too dark. Hey eyes. There were too many shadows hidden behind those stagnant eyes.

I want to die.

She stared down at her pillow emptily.

I want to die.

Giant drops of tears blotched the cotton pillow case.

I need to die before they do.

Her fingernails dug into the bed foam.

I don’t want to grieve.

A shudder raked through her 12 year old body.

I need to die now.

She scrambled to her closet to retrieve her shoelace. After shutting herself in the bathroom, she tied it around her neck and and pulled both ends. Hard. The veins on her face pulsed brightly as the material twisted into her skin, nearly crushing her windpipe.

The lack of oxygen combined with the pain made her eyes roll back. Gasping loudly, she dropped her hands quickly.

Her knees dropped to the cold times. She couldn’t stop coughing and scratching at her throat as more air spilled in. It was so painful. It was too painful. Too much to see through.

“Thessy are you done? Ma wants to drive us to school now.” Summer called from the other side.

Not bothering to wait for her response, she left the room again.

Theresa coughed one more time before calling out weakly. “Coming.”

The next day, she tried the shoelace again.

Just as before, she stopped right when it got too much.

So she tried again the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

And again. And again. And again.

Coward.

One day she looked at herself in the mirror. Looked at the desperation in her tears. The fear in her trembling lips. The frustration on her face. Her neck had a round line that was barely noticeable because of her dark skin. She also kept her hair down since she started her attempts last month.

Coward.

‘Attempts’. That’s all they’d ever be.

Coward

Scaredy cat

Attempt #51

Theresa stared down at the shoelace on the floor. Stupid. She was so stupid. And weak. And scared. One job. She had one measly job.

The sound of her flesh getting hit bounced off the bathroom walls like the rebound of drum.

Stupid.

Her palm struck her face again.

Dumb.

Another slap.

Weak.

Another.

Crybaby.

Another.

Ungrateful.

Another.

Freak.

Another.

Wimp

Another

Drama queen.

Another.

Coward.

The final slap was so harsh her neck snapped to the left. The entire side of her face was swollen and ugly. As ugly at the feelings brewing beneath she could not dear utter. She couldn’t sleep. Her tastebuds didn’t work anymore. She always felt like crying. But her smile was the brightest of her siblings. She couldn’t help it. It was like a string was attached. She jumped when she was supposed to be excited. Laughed when Pa told a funny joke. Ate her meals clean off the plate and thanked Ma with a praise whenever she coooked.

It was easy doing that. It helped her not think. Thinking hurt her head. Thinking made her feel like a coward. Thinking made her feel different.

Made her feel like those people

Like the ones they put in those new type of hospitals.

But she wasn’t like them.

She was normal.

Nothing was wrong with her.

But then, the next day, someone asked her a question.

“Hey, are you okay?”

It was a Saturday. Summer didn’t go out for her usual church visits cause she had a cold- she always had a cold these days- and everyone else had some kind of engagement so they were alone. Just Theresa and her elder sister.

Her sister was frowning at the side of her face- the part that had been exposed cause she forgot to wear her braids down.

“Why are you not saying anything?” Summer sat by the living room couch, gazing at the frozen Theresa by the staircase in worry. “I didn’t see you when you came back to school yesterday. You always sleep early these days. Are you okay? Why is your face like that?”

Theresa felt a weight lodge in her throat. For some reason, she couldn’t push her lips up like she always did. Couldn’t jump even an inch higher than ground. The instrument used to create that laughing sound was suddenly under maintenance.

Instead, her lips parted, a confession at the tip of her tongue that was as heavy as lead.

“I-”

^{“These heretics. They’re popping up more and more these days. What do you think, Matthew? Is it a trend or virus. This ‘mental illness’ of thing?”}

^{“Dare I say John, it’s just another plague sent by God to wipe out the demons. I hear the sickness of the brain happens only to those foreigners. Punishment for their idol worship. This is why it’s important to keep Summerside away from outsiders. No abnormals here”}

^{“Haha this soil is personally blessed by God. All these those faulty ones should be stayed up where they can’t harm anyone. Can you imagine, I hear the blueeyed serial killer down the mercuric got away with the crimes by pleading insanity. What is the world coming to?”}

^{“It’s the end times i tell you.”}

The radio by the living room centertable continued broadcasting the local news channel hosts. Theresa’s head seemed to be pushed under water.

“Tee? Are you listening to me?“

“I’m fine.” She slowly undid her hair tie. “I just fell down on the way back.”

Summer was already looking down at her newly painted nails, distracted. “Mm. Okay. Go wash the dishes so Ma won’t throw a fit when she comes back. Don’t tell her I made you do it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Stupid.

Theresa stood atop a stool, wearing plastic gloves a bit too big for her hands as she washed the plates from the night before. The soapy water went up to her arms, bubbles clinging to the skin like they wished to drag her down the drain.

One wrong word and I would’ve been shipped away.

The tremors in her hands made the plates slip away every few washes. Her fingers couldn’t stay steady. The fear made even her bones vibrate at an alarming frequency. At this moment, she wished this skin of hers that was as thick and patchy as clay could melting under this hot water. Melt and slide into the 5 holes at the center of the sink.

They would torture me and laugh at me and tie me up.

It wouldn’t go down easily no. Because of what she was made of. Sludge, meat and vomit. Someone would need to use a plunger and push to make sure the disgusting things that were her constituents would never bubble back up.

One word and I would be locked away in the dark and used for tests.

The sponge roughly scrubbed across the edge of the knife they had used to cut the meat of last dinner. Slim fingers slid along of the blunt part of that blade.

They’re going to take me away.

Theresa’s eyes were blown out, fantasizing, wishing, imagining.

Praying.

I have to go now or they’ll catch me!

It wasn’t a shoelace this time. As long as she pushed in hard enough, it would be over in a few seconds. It won’t hurt like the extended periods of the shoelaces.

In the big kitchen, there was a small figure barely 5 feet clad in her black sleeping dress. In her palms was a knife larger than her neck. The tip of this blade glinted under the setting sunlight that fell from the window above. This pointy metal pressed against the girl’s jugular.

A single drop of blood rolled down to settle between her clavicles.

It was the first time she bled.

This wetness along her throat. It seemed to wash away all the fear. All the cowardice. All the hesitation. There was a power than came with wielding the blade. Wielding what could actually finish the job. Wielding what finally made everything real.

But the blade didn’t plunge in. She had picked this blade as a child and the act of cutting herself had brought a sort of serenity. At this moment, she appeared to have aged exponentially. Her eyes carried years worth of understanding like she just unlocked the secrets to the universe.

Like a sacred knowledge had been bestowed upon her.

She loved her family very much. As they loved her. No other family had she ever seen that were as loving and as perfect as theirs. If she died, who would Summer take for shopping? What excuse would Emmanuel have to get sweets while he plays the piano? Who would Christina sing her her new songs to? There would be no one to read Al’s books with. Pa would stop fishing since he never had the time to anyways. Ether…Ether won’t have anyone to cradle her in the middle of the night. Nobody would be wondering around at that time, making sure they were all alive afterall.

She couldn’t die now.

They would grieve. And grieve. And grieve. And it would eat them. And it would spit them out. And they would grieve some more. And maybe. Maybe they would get better eventually. Just like Ma did after Aunt San. But they will still continue with life. And something bad would happen again. Someone will get kidnapped, tortured, heartbroken, ill. There was always something lurking, waiting to make them feel worse all over again. They will get sick. They will fail their exams. They will get rejected from the music college they want to go to. They will get bullied. They will lose and they will grieve that loss. Be it thing and human. They will be blackmailed. They will be disgraced. They will be attacked. They will suffer pointlessly. Again and again and again. In this unending cycle of misery that was life.

She loved her family so much.

As they loved her.

I need to end the cycle.

The knife was pulled away, raised,then pushed forward again. The 12 year old woman crouched into herself, like a shell found by the riverside. She leaned over the sink as the top half of the knife disappeared into her mouth.

The sharp edge of the cold metal pressed down the thick red muscle of her tongue. At the burst of pain, her eyes widened and spilled reflexive tears. Her knees buckled, barely keeping her on the stool. The drops of blood fell faster, staining the white unwashed plates in the sink, mixing with the soapy water. The bad blood frothed in her mouth making her slightly choke on the metal and iron taste numbing her taste buds.

The tears didn’t stop. They made her face so wet and sticky. Made her jaw so ugly as it mixed with the settling blood. But the shadows in her eyes, for this brief moment, they were gone. What replaced them was an obsessive light that rivaled the sun.

She knew what to do.

Know how to keep her and her family safe.

A perfect plan.

An epiphany that was the loudest thought in her scattered mind.

We just need to die together.

After that day, Theresa’s thoughts started to grow incoherent. They came in too fast or too slow or too jumbled to process in time. She had no choice but to get a new exercise book and start writing in it.

The night after she tested her poison on Derry, her father caught her in her nightly checkups. He wasn’t a light sleeper. Perhaps he was up thinking about the late dog.

“Hey, baby.” Joseph had watched his daughter stare down at him unblinkingly for a full minute before he finally broke the silence. His brow knitted in confusion. Did Theresa ever sleepwalk? “Are you okay?” He tried his best not to startle her, lowering his voice to a light whisper. “Did you have a nightmare?”

The girl opened her mouth and made a strangled noise. Like she was choking on words written in thick scattered ink. But the ink was parasitic and latched hungrily on her tender vocal cords so she could push the words out.

Sucking in a breath, Theresa ran out of her parents room, back to her own room. After that night, she didn’t go on her nightly rituals anymore. Instead, Joseph came to visit his daughter every night before he went to bed. Her eyes stayed wide open but she didn’t seem to be awake. This caused him great distress but he’d been so busy that period as it was coming closer and closer to the holidays.

He planned to take her to the doctor by New Years’.

Every night, Theresa watched her father close the door with a frown on his face.

Every night, her chest would tighten and pound at a punishing rhythm.

She was making Pa worried.

She was making Pa sick.

She was going to heal them all next week.

It failed.

Her attempt failed.

Pa and Summer were looking at her like she was the devil.

They were going to take her to the mad house.

THUD

THUD

THUD

A white line shot through her senses at every contact with the wall. Again and again and again until it striked through each word, pushed sentences into each other and flipped over paragraphs. This overload of white lines came with a certain frequency. It was so loud yet somehow dim. Like a static noise. It made her surroundings blur and her ear drums itchy. Her mind had become a radio and it switched to a clear station at random periods. The channel hopping sometimes took seconds, other times minutes, or hours or days.

Or months.

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Channel #1

She hates me. Summer hates me. She keeps saying those mean words. Hate. She has hate in her heart. Stop talking. Stop. Stop. I don’t want to hear it. Get out. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. I want to die. Just let me die already. Why did you have to save me? Why am I in this hospital? Stop saying that! STOP IT! IT’S NOT MY FAULT. She hates me. IF YOU JUST KEPT THE FOOD DOWN WE WON’T BE HERE. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know! I don’t know! Stop asking me! She has hate in her heart. Pa is gone. We got rid of him why are you asking me where he went??! Let me die too. Are you sick? Did I make you sick?! Is this a new grief side effect? Forgetting? I made you sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. You must feel so dirty. You’ve gone mad with denial. I want to die. I made Pa sick too. Now you’re sick. I failed. Stop. I don’t want to hear it. IT’S NOT MY FAULT STOP SAYING THAT LEAVE ME ALONE. Sick. Sick. Sick. I can’t die anymore. I don’t want to hear it. Stop stop asking me!. Look what you’ve done. When do I leave? GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. I can’t die till you’re gone.

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Channel #45

Ma I miss you. What do they know? Ma I’m scared. Ahck! Ack! Ma I’m scared. It’s scary at night. I want to cry. It tastes weird. Are they hiding you from me? I hate the taste. My voice. What happened to my voice?. It hurts to speak. What do they know? They want to do something. The wound never heals. Ma I’m scared. STOP STOP STOP IT HURTS. I keep hearing Ether’s cries at night but nobody is there. Their plotting against me. Who’s there? Harder. Did you hear that? The doctors. I don’t like swallowing blood. They know something. Ma can you hear me? Did you say something? Harder! Do they know something? What do they know? Can they see you? Are they hiding you from me? Ma I want to see you. When can I see you? Why won’t you let me see you? I need to see you. How do I see you? Ahck! Ack! It’s too painful. I can’t stop. STOP IT PLEASE. I can’t speak so I can only bite my tongue. STOP STOP STOP IT HURTS. I don’t like swallowing blood. The wound never heals .I can’t eat cause it hurts. IT HURTS. I need to bite harder. HARDER! If I bite off my tongue I can die. STOP IT PLEASE!

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Channel #385

No no no don’t think. Shoes. Don’t think about it. PLEASE. When can I finally die? Shoes. I’m sick of this orphanage. Pull pull pull. Soma changed our names. I need to do it. She’s too guarded. WHERE IS MY SHOELACE? Grief ate and spat out a sludge. Stop pulling. Give me back my sister. I need to do it. Don’t think about it. She keeps pretending she loves me. Where is it? I can’t kill her. I need to do it. Quickly. I need to do it now! When can I finally die? Where is my shoelace? WHERE IS MY SHOELACE? I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT MY SHOELACE. No don’t think. Stop thinking. I need to die. Ack I can’t breath. It’s back on my neck. I can’t breath. No no don’t think don’t breathe- breathe! I need to kill her. WHERE IS MY SHOELACE? Give me back my sister. PULL PULL PULL. When can I finally die? Kill her kill her kill her. Stop pulling the lace! CAN’T BREATHE-

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Channel #400

Wait wait! Don’t think dont pull wait I don’t want to faint again I want to WAIT-

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Channel #795

I cant even come home for the holidays. Why are you doing this to me? How can I kill you? I love you. How could you do this to me? I miss you. I’m stuck. It’s lonely here. I’m stuck because of you. I’m so miserable. Why won’t you let me save you? I did it all for us. You’re so ungrateful. I love you. You won’t even let me see you. You hate me? You hate me? EVERYTHING I DID WAS FOR YOU I SHOULD’VE DIED AND LEFT YOU BEHIND BUT I DIDN’T BECAUSE I LOVED YOU I HATE YOU SO MUCH FOR ABANDONING ME. I’M GOING TO KILL YOU. I’LL KILL YOU I’LL KILL YOU I’LL KILL YOU. Soma? Soma? Where are you? I miss you. Why won’t you let me see you? Why won’t you let me save you? You need me to save you.

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Channel #1000

What? I’m going to be an aunt? No- no she’s going to be a mother? No. This is bad. I have to- I have to get there as soon as I can. I have to save her. Save her before she gets sad. Families make you go sad.

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Channel #1005

You look so much like Pa. So scared. So wary. You never did change did you? I was so happy to see you but you’re looking at me like you wish I’d disappear. You’re looking at me like I’m the worst thing that happened to you. You’re looking at me like you want to kill me.

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Channel #1007

No. Not yet. Don’t do it yet. I’ve brought her back here. Do I kill her now? STOP STOP HITTING THE WALL IT HURTS IT HURTS STOP IT. I need to make her as scattered as possible. Hold. Hold. Be patient or you’ll fuck it up again. Need her to think she saved us. That way she’ll eat the poison happily without any thoughts. And die as she was destined to. I need to complete this once and for all. No more mistakes. STOP HITTING THE WALL YOU’RE GOING TO WAKE HER UP IT HURTS MY HEAD HURTS. STOP IT!

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Channel #1011

The police is coming? I have to change plans.

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Channel #0

That’s them. No. Don’t do that. Police. Pick it up. That’s the police. Use that one. Misdirect them. To another place. Hmm this one keeps pushing. Isn’t listening to me. Up up up. Another variable. Like that night. Don’t . But they’re going to ruin my plans. Again. PICK UP THE STONE PICK IT UP DO IT DO IT DO IT.

#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#

“Oh.”

Theresa was breathing heavily. Her vision of red cleared to reveal the dead officers. Both of their heads were bashed into the ground so violently their brains were splatted across the pavement of the road leading up to their family house.

She pressed a bloody hand against her head and blinked slowly.

Clear.

It was so clear.

Her radiohead.

No static. No repetitive thoughts. No loud commands.

It was so fucking quiet.

A shudder was let out of her stuffy chest as she looked around the desolate estate.

No obstruction to her breathing either.

“Oh.” Theresa laughed. It was her first genuine laugh in a decade. “So that’s how it is.”

Hmm.

The cold permeated Thea’s bones. She seemed to be in a horizontal position now. Her vision was spotting.

That was a fast one.

The young Theresa was sitting beside her. Playing with her frosted hair with childlike excitement. She gazed down at her and mouthed: ‘Thank you’

Thea was barely breathing at this point but she tried to blink back: ‘You’re welcome’

It is finished.

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Warm.

It was warm.

That was the first thing that came to mind when Theresa woke up. If she hadn’t smelt the common Summerside firewood, she would’ve thought she was in the afterlife. Her eyes fluttered open to receive visuals of the interior of a wooden cabin.

A mouth watering scent of turkey wafted over her. She shifted and noticed her body was covered by a thick blanket. When she coughed, she found neither her tongue nor throat was dry.

An old woman with greying hair had been watching her attentively. When Theresa sat up, she let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re finally awake.”

I watched my vomit run slide the drain before turning off the sink tap tiredly. Even after heaving for 10 minutes, I still felt nauseous. It was fine. Just a few more months and the symptoms would calm down. Samuel said so. Hopefully no one noticed I had been gone for too long.

But it’s weird. Their annoying voices. I couldn’t hear them for a while. Have they all gone to sleep? Didn’t we agree to open presents later?

The moment I stepped back in the dining room, I met Theresa’s stare. Her eyes were so open. So wide. So shocked. I’d never seen her look so unnerved. It was as if she was seeing a ghost.

“Why are you still alive?”

She asked me this question. I couldn’t understand it. My gaze suddenly fell from her to the rest of the table.

I don’t understand. Why…why was everyone’s head on the table? Why were their eyes like that? What was that thing dripping from their mouths?

“What happened?!”

It wasn’t my voice. I was just about to scream that but it was a deeper voice. A male voice. It was Pa’s. I just noticed his seat was empty. My stare lifted towards the source of the distraught sound. My father stood at the top of the staircase, staring in equal disbelief and confusion at the state of the dining table.

“No.” Theresa’s chair toppled loudly to ground. She sprang back, shaking her head in denial, eyes darting between myself and Pa’s. “No no no no no. Why are you both still alive?!”

Loud thuds sounded in the enclosed space as Pa run down, three steps a time. He checked the cradle first. “No.” Then Ma’s neck. “No.” Then my Emmanuel’s” No” Then Al then Chrissy. “No no no no no. How- what did you do Theresa?!”

“No no no no no.” My sister pressed her tiny hands against her head, covering her ear like she wanted to go deaf from the pressure. As she slid down the wall, I couldn’t help but notice how dark those empty eyes were. Darker than the black sky outside. Was she possessed? Theresa looked more demon than human at this moment. “How are you two not dead. No no no. It didn’t work it didn’t work it didn’t work. Stupid stupid stupid stupid. Stupid coward.”

Father moved away from the table, cautiously approaching Theresa. But the action seemed to trigger her. She screamed so loud I thought the windows would shatter.

“Stay away!”

THUD.

THUD.

THUD.

My sister kept throwing her head back, into the wall. Again and again and again. Like a ragdoll I played with when I was younger. Her head bobbed back and forth so hard against the wall I was terrified cracks would start to appear on the surface.

Father obeyed, quickly raising his hands in the air and speaking to Theresa in a tentative tone. “Okay okay. I’ve stopped. I’m not coming. I won’t take another step. I’ll stay away.”

Theresa finally stopped at the action. She stared unblinkingly at my father then looked down at the ground, muttering to herself. It wasn’t too loud nor too quiet. What she was saying. I could hear it.

A whole lot of gibberish.

“Pa…” When I finally found my voice, it came out choked and scared. I wanted to go back to kitchen and lock myself there forever. But even when I felt the hot tears roll down my cheeks, I couldn’t move a muscle. Couldn’t look away from the unmoving heads on the table.“What…what’s happening? I don’t understand.”

It seemed he only now registered my presence. Still keeping his eye on my sister, he slowly moved over to my end. Noting she didn’t react to his movements, he turned away to pull me in a tight hug. He stayed like that for a while, patting my head. I could feel the vibrations of his hand tremors against my skull. Or maybe my head was pounding too hard so it passed on to his palm. “Thank god you’re safe. Oh god. Oh god. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He pushed me back, arms length, and bent so he could maintain eye contact. My father looked so different at that moment. So much older. He looked like grandpa. “Summer. I need you to be a good girl and listen to me, okay? Can you do that?”

The sound of my swallow nearly overpowered my voice. “...Yes.”

“Great. I…I need you to go to your room. Okay? Just…stay there. For a bit. I’ll figure things out here.”

“What? Why? What’s happening? Why isn’t Chrissy getting up to wash the plates. Why isn’t Ma taking Ether to bed? Why isn’t anyone moving? Why is Ether so quiet-” My eyes strayed to the silent cradle. My voice went up a pitch. “Is- is she okay? Is my baby sister okay?”

Pa subtly moved, blocking my view of Ether. He massaged my shoulders. Up and down. Repeatedly. Comforting. Me. Comforting. Himself. “Go to your room, baby. Please. Don’t look at all this.”

“What’s wrong with Theresa? Why is she saying those mean things? Why is she hurting herself? What does she mean ‘why are we still alive’?”

“Sum-”

“Answer me!”

My father stared at me helplessly. “I…I always keep a separate portion of our meals before adding spices since I have a weak heart. And you just vomited didn’t you?”

“Yes.” What did this have to do with anything?

“Then,” Pa looked behind me. At Theresa. She wasn’t looking at us. Her wide eyed stare was on father’s empty plate now. “She must’ve put it right when I added spices and left the kitchen. So…we didn’t get to ingest the poison.”

“Poison? You’re saying Theresa poisoned the food? Why would she do that? That doesn’t make sense. Wait. Let me go. Let me talk to her.”

Let me talk to my sister.

“No. Not now. I don’t-” He took another quick glance at Theresa before moving to block my sight again. “I don’t think it’s safe now. Just let me. Let me- well. Your siblings and mother…” His eyes closed for a brief moment. Then, he spoke with a defeated sigh. “I need to take her to the station first.”

My heart dropped. “What?”

“This is a case of multiple homicides, Summer. It’s not something that can be brushed under the rug. Don’t worry, Theresa is still a child. She won’t be tried as an adult. But first we need to report in. It will be better if we take the first initiative. We have to or it could get very ugly.”

I shook my head quickly. “No. No you can’t do that.”

Pa’s face expression was twisted. in pain. He hesitated, obviously wavering on his decision. Just when I thought he’d agree with me, he bent and hugged me tightly again.

“I love you, Summer. You’re a very good girl. A very brave girl. I’ve always been proud of you.” He whispered this before placing a light kiss on my cheek. “So I need you to be brave one last time. This is the best case scenario. For all three of us. You have to trust me.” When he pulled back, there were tear stains on his cheek. “Do you trust me?”

I could only nod. I haven’t ever seen Pa cry. Haven’t ever seen him look so…weak.

“Then go to your room, Summer.” He turned away and made another wary advance to my still motionless sister.

My father’s back was to me. I watched him get farther and farther away. His confident stride I admired was gone. His posture was crouched. Like someone that needed a walking stick. Like so many emotions weighed down on his shoulders at this very moment. And it could never be upright again.

When he picked the numb Theresa up, I finally saw his face. It was a grieving face.

Grieving the dead, the surviving and the living.

“No.” My voice raised. ”No!” I tried to hide the panic in it but I couldn’t. “You can’t do that. They’ll take her to jail! They kill people in there! She’s just a child! Leave her alone.”

My legs went ahead of my mind, blocking the exit of the dining room. “Put her down! We can’t turn her in! They’ll take her away! Let me just talk to her. It was a mistake. I’m sure it was an accident. Just- once we talk to her everything will be fine. I’m her big sister she’ll tell me the truth. She trusts me. She’s innocent.”

“...I believe that too.” Pa said that but didn’t look me in the eyes. In fact, his eyes were very distant now. Very empty. It only sharpened when he stared at Ma’s motionless figure. “But we still need to report. Now. As quickly as possible. Especially now that she’s calm. She isn’t…safe. I need to keep her away from you before she- Please dear, go to your room. I’ll be back in an hour okay?”

I was only half Pa’s height. I couldn’t block him perfectly. But I did my best, pushing and pushing anytime he neared the door. He was with Theresa in his arms so he couldn’t move as he wanted.

“Move out of the way!”

“No!”

“Move Summer! Please.”

“No! I won’t let you take her from me! All my siblings are gone! Put her down!”

“I’m not taking her from you.”

“Liar! Give her back! Give my sister back!”

The tussle continued. I was scared. Scared of what was to become of our newly fragmented family. Angry. Angry that this was the only solution Pa could think of. Anxious. Anxious I was…wrong about Theresa. It was too much. These emotions in me coupled with the mood swings that came in this phase of my cycle.

Overwhelmed, I pushed Pa with all my might and a borrowed one. Father’s balance shook and he slipped.

Falling towards the stair case, he instinctively curved his body and hugged my sister to protect her from the impact.

CRACK!

Pa’s head knocked loudly against the edge of bottom stair on landing.

His body rolled for a few seconds before stopping.

A bone jutted against the skin of his lower neck.

“...Pa?”

Silence.

“Pa are you okay?”

He didn’t move.

“Pa!”

He remained still. As motionless as the rest of my family at the dining table.

“Ugh…” Theresa rolled out of my father’s loving embrace. As if out of some trance, she rubbed her eyes tiredly as she rose. That motion made her look so little. So much younger than 12 even. She looked at dad for a long minute.

Then at me.

“And then there was one.”

“No.” I went on my knees, crawling to Pa and shaking him violently. Shaking him awake. “Father? Pa? Please don’t do this. Come on. Come on. Wake up. Please wake up!“

He didn’t blink.

I cradled his oddly bent head in my trembling hands. Felt the texture of the bone along the skin near his spine. “No no no. God please no.” I covered a hand on his chest.

No heartbeat.

I leaned in close, close enough to feel his breath on my skin. But there was nothing.

Oh god.

My tears dropped on his wide open eyes but they didn’t blink in reaction. Falling back on my behind, I stared up at Theresa.

“What...what are we going to do?”

Theresa didn’t respond. She stepped over our dead father and took a seat by the staircase that killed him.

“I…I don’t want to go to jail. It was an accident. It was an accident for you too right? If we explain the situation, nothing can go wrong. Right?”

No answer.

My tears fell faster. “I don’t- I don’t want to go jail. I don’t want us to be labeled as murderers. Everyone will hate us. What do we even do if we don’t go to jail? Nobody will accept us. No orphanage. No school. What do we do?”

“It’s easy.” Leaning lazily against the wall, Theresa pointed at the kitchen door. “Go eat the leftovers.”

“What? Why…” The meaning dawned on me. “No. How -how could you even say that? No!”

“Why not?” Theresa stared at me unblinkingly. I couldn’t recognize her. I couldn’t recognize this skin nor the soulless eyes attached to Theresa. This was a doll. Where was my little sister? When did she get replaced? “It would all go away. All you need to do is eat and keep it down this time.”

“I…” I don’t want to die. “I can’t die.” I rose a shaky hand to press my stomach. “I can’t kill. Again. I can’t kill my baby.”

Theresa’s eyes widened. “That’s why you threw up. You’re pregnant?”

“Yes. I… I hid it cause if Pa or Ma knew, they’d rid it. I…I want to be a mother. So I made Samuel help me make a baby.”

“Since when?”

I picked at the seams of my clothes. “Since Bethel said she couldn’t go out with me cause she wants a family. So I uh…made her a baby.”

“Jesus.” Theresa smiled. It was a smile full of disbelief. She was looking at me like I was crazy. “That’s such a stupid thing to do. What the…Jesus, Summer. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

My shoulders hunched. “I’m going to be a great mother. A good parent. A better one.” The words came out before I could stop them. “I won’t raise a monster atleast.”

Her smiled stiffened. “That baby is most likely dead. It died in your place from the poison.”

“That’s not true.”

“Idiot. It’s common sense.“

“You don’t know anything.“

“Go eat your food, Summer.”

“I won’t!”

We stared at each other stubbornly.

“Fine.” Theresa spoke flatly. “Okay.” In her slim hands, she picked dad’s foot and looked at me expectedly. “What are you waiting for?”

“What? Where are we taking him?”

“The lake. The part connected to our backyard. It’s too dark and it’s raining. Nobody will see. We use ropes and tie as many rocks as possible to his body before pushing him in. He’ll sink with the tides. Never float up. Join the sea by the edge of town. We’ll pack some clothes and sink it too. It’ll look like he ran away.”

“What the fuck.” Was this really my sister? “What the fuck, Tess how could you even think of doing that to Pa?”

“Got a better idea?”

I stayed silent.

“We don’t have all night.” I don’t know why, but Theresa’s skin looked weird. “Get up.”

I sat on the cold floor for a short minute.

Nothing went through my head during that period. Everything was just blank.

“Do you want to stay out of jail or not?“

I got up.

The entire thing was done in silence. I wept through it all. Dragging Pa outside. Like Tess said, it was dark and raining. We first ensured none of the neighbours were outside. Then we quietly dragged him to the lake. Perhaps because of the rain, the stream waves were a bit violent tonight. I was tasked with gathering rocks and stones while Theresa worked on binding them to his body, stuffing them in his clothes.

Thea cut up the clothes I retrieved from Pa’s closet. She tied some on my hands to act as a bandage. So when I dug the soil for stones, I won’t get cut. If I did, I’d have to answer to why when we were interrogated. That’s what she said. She also tied cloth pieces to every part of Pa’s body. She said it had to sink with him or it would float up and our lie would be exposed.

I got that. But my chest hurt. Hurt from watching Pa’s best clothes get shred. Watching it cover his hands, legs and eventually face. Watching him disappear until he was just a body of clothes.

It hurt when I knelt beside Theresa and pushed with her. Pushed my father’s body in the end of the stream. It hurt when I watched his body sink until he was out of our our vision.

Watched him go invisible.

After the deed was done, I trudged lightly behind Theresa. I needed to talk to her. Understand exactly what happened this night. Understand her. We only had each other now.

Once I closed the door however, my sister fell to the floor.

“Theresa?!”

When I pulled her up to a sitting position, blood was already dripping out her nose.

Like a tap.

“What…what’s happening?!” My head pounded. Come to think of it, what was Thea doing when I entered? Holding her spoon. She hadn’t eaten during dinner.

But she started eating after they died??

“Theresa? Tess? Can you hear me??”

The only answer I got back was a groan.

No no no no no.

Not again.

You can’t leave me too.

I won’t let you.

Everything after that was a blur. I carried her in my arms as I ran to the clinic. It would’ve been faster if I got a neighbour to help. But what if they went to find Pa? What if they started looking for him too early? Had his body sunk completely? I needed some time to pass but I also needed to get Theresa medical aid as quickly as possible.

So, I ran.

Thunder and lightening. Everything was too loud. Too bright. Too much. Too much. I couldn’t think. I thought too much. Everything was too much.

What happened this night? Was any of it even real? Was this pregnancy induced hallucination? Is Ma really dead? Did I really kill… Why would Theresa do that? Are my siblings really gone? Ether? Ether is too young to be gone.

This cant be real.

No.

This wasn’t real.

My little sister got poisoned. She ate the food too. She’s not a bad person. She’s a victim. Yes. That’s it. My sweet kind Theresa could never do such a thing. Pa…Wait. Where is Pa? What happened to him? I didn’t see him at the dining table when I entered. Or did I? No. Definitely not. His seat was empty. i remember clearly. He ran? Did he run? Why did he run? Was he scared? No. Was he confused like me? No. Was he...guilty?

Yes.

He is guilty isn’t he? He killed them all. Then ran off.

He killed my family and ran away.

Theresa you poor child. Don’t worry. Don’t worry Thessy. I’ll save you. I’ll protect you. I couldn’t protect the rest but I’m here for you. You can trust me.

Trust your sister.

Even when the clinic opened up and took my sister from my hands, I couldn’t stop the hate that consumed me. How could he do that? How could he do that to me- to us? How could he try to kill us all? Evil. He’s so evil. Wicked. Sinister. Vile. How vile. Pa was so evil. The police must find him. If they don’t, I will.

If I don’t, I’m dead.

So I have to find him first. Or he’ll kill me. I have to kill him first.

I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him

“I killed him”

It was a confession as much as it was a discovery.

After Soma’s honest recount of that night, the spell of denial broke. Her gaze finally tore away from Thea’s to stare emptily at the ground.

“I killed our father.”

A trembling hand pressed against her chest. Pa…Pa was good? Pa is… dead? He’s been dead all this time? Her face contorted and her breaths came out faster, shorter, louder. Oh god. Oh god. No no no. Soma’s voice came out cracked and tiny. “I’m sorry. Pa I’m so sorry. It was mistake.” Her body curved inwards, hands over her head as she rocked back and forth in the chair. Her shoulders trembled with the heavy weight of guilt that crashed onto her. “I’m sorry. I was scared. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know that would happen.” I didn’t know what else to do. I was scared I was scared. I’m sorry.

Her sobs filled the room, tears rolling down her face like a broken tap. The nails on her fingers dug so deeply into her head like it wanted to peel the skin open and leave her brain exposed. But the pain wasn’t enough. It did nothing for this guilt that suffocated her and made her choke on her own saliva as she wept.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

The sun set.

“Are you done?”

At Thea’s deadpan, Soma raised her head, sniffing and wiping her tears. Her eyes were swollen, red and exhausted.

“That day. The day I visited the graveyard, were you there?”

Thea shook her head. “I only came back on Mary’s call.”

“The clinic woman. She said you were sitting with a man. He came to see his family he said. Who was that?”

“I believe you’d know him better than me. Psalm he said his name was? Was it Salaam? He’s a much more handsome donor. I recall Samson was grotesque.”

“Oh.” Soma pressed a hand against her heavy head. “Oh. That’s how it is.” The stalker, the gravestone, the note. “Ha.” The laugh came hard. Derisive. Everything was so fucking funny now. So fucking stupid. She was so fucking stupid. “Haha!”

A complete idiot!

For the next few minutes, Thea silently watched her sister spiral between grief, guilt and self hatred. She’d laugh loudly, hitting her hands on her thighs then start crying, hitting her chest instead. Over and over again.

Once she went quiet again, Thea spoke dryly. “Do you remember what you told me that time in the hospital? While you thought I was unconscious?”

A slow headshake from Soma “No. Everything after you collapsed is still a blur.”

“Right.” Her tongue moved around in her mouth. “What about what I told you as you carried me to hospital?”

Soma tried to remember. But the thunder and lightening back then was too much. Her denial back then was too much. It really was hard to piece together. “I don’t.”

“Ha!”

It was Thea’s turn to laugh. Could it really be called laughter? It was only a syllable. But the sound was filled with so much reproach.

“Of course you don’t.” She was grinning. But she didn’t look happy. “Fucking coward.”

Coward.

Stupid coward.

Soma recalled the Theresa of that night. How she called herself that while banging her head into the wall.

Her fists tightened for a long minute before finally letting them loose.

She sighed.

“We were wrong.”

Thea, who was still smiling, lost in her own thoughts, returned to the room. “What?”

“We… failed you.” Soma’s tone was resolute. But the pity couldn’t be disguised. “You were suffering. Mentally. And none of us knew. We weren’t looking. We were all absorbed in our own little lives. We didn’t notice…that you needed help.”

Her smile dropped. “What?”

“You needed your family. But we weren’t listening. Or weren’t listening hard enough. You were sick. And scared. You were so scared.”

“Stop it.”

The defensive tone made Soma grow sadder.

“You came to me once.”

“Stop talking. Seriously. Stop.”

“You were brave. You did something brave. You tried to talk to someone. You…tried to talk to me.” Her eyes watered. She had to swallow and take a breath to steady herself. “But something stopped you. And you lied. And and I just took it. It was so obvious you were lying. I was so useless to you when you needed it- needed me the most. I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”

“Did you try to talk to Pa too? Or did he just know? He didn’t look too surprised that night when you-”

“I said stop it!” Just like ten years ago, the chair crashed to the floor as Thea shot up, backing away. She seemed to be the one running this time. “What are you apologizing for?! Stop talking! Stop talking like you know anything. Just- just shut up! You don’t know shit so stop acting like you do. God you’re so stupid I can’t stand talking to you it’s like I’m regressing back to that idiotic child I once was just by being in your presence. Shut the fuck up Summer. You know nothing about me. Nothing is wrong with me. You don’t know anything.”

Soma took no offense at this outburst. If anything, she expected it. It was so easy to see through her sister’s tough act now that her memories were back.

She had to be cautious though. More cautious than her father was that night. She couldn’t set her off. But she still had to be firm or it would never get into her head. Her sister would continue to be in denial until she accepted the hard truth.

Like one did when approaching a cornered dog, Soma rose slowly, speaking in a soothing tone. “Look. I may not know everything. But I know enough.” She had fucked up her entire life. She needed to do one thing right. Do the right thing as her big sister. “Theresa you know I’ve read your diary. I know you want help. You’re in pain. Even if you can’t admit it.”

“You shouldn’t have read that.” Thea’s jaw tightened, looking away. “It’s not very polite, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s the least polite to poison your entire family and yourself because you’re suicidal, Theresa.”

Silence.

It was a word she’d been avoiding but the moment it was said, Thea flinched.

“It was a decade ago. The mental illness panic was at an all time high and you were scared what they’d do to you. Lobotomies, experiments, psychiatric shocks. What didn’t we hear on the radio back then? You weren’t a coward for not wanting to be put through that kind of horrendous treatment. But times have changed. I… I know a good doctor far outside town. I can finally help you like you wanted. If not for anyone, you need to do this for your younger self, Tess.”

Her sister’s head was bent. She was muttering something. Indescipherable. Again and again and again. Like she did a decade ago when she realized her murder suicide had failed.

“Theresa.” Soma sighed. “I forgive you. I think Pa would too. And Ma. And Emmanuel and Noel and Chrissy and Alma. They probably have already.”

A strangled noise came from Thea. Even though her hands were up in her face, the tears were visible. And they were spilling out in waves. Like an broken dam. It stained her cheeks. No mater how much she wiped at them, it didn’t stop. All she could do was completely block her eyes from Soma.

“And I’m sorry.” Soma continued, taking one step a time to approach her. “He would be sorry. Pa. For wanting to turn you in at that moment. The others would be too. For not noticing. We’re all sorry. They’re gone. But you’re here. And so am I. I’m here now so you don’t need to stay quiet anymore.”

Thea was shaking her head. Shaking her head as she wiped the nonstop tears. She started to turn away but Soma reached for her. Shaking. Trembling. Mumbling. Weeping. But she couldn’t fight it. Couldn’t fight her sister when she was pulled in for a tight hug.

“I love you, Theresa. No matter what. I loved you back then. I love you now. And I’ll always love you.”

Thea finally leaned in and hugged her sister back. Tightly.

Soma’s heart warmed. It’s fine. We are going to be fine. The past was fucked up. It was. But we’re blood. We’re family. I have to take care of you. Because I’m your big sis. It’s my responsibility. I’m done running away. I’ll take all the responsibility gladly. I love you before anything else. I’ll fix you. Guide you so you can face whatever demons that haunt you. So that you can finally allow yourself to be happy. We can both finally allow ourselves happiness. We will be a complete family. Me, you, Mary and Noel. We can start afresh. Do it right. The both of us. You’re not a bad person, Thea. I believe in-

Her thoughts were cut abruptly by a sharp pain in her chest. Her brown eyes widened. Widened to reveal bulging red veins about to rupture from the sheer intensity of this instantaneous pain.

“I’ll get you next time.” Thea spoke quietly, mouth hovering beside Soma’s ear. All the sadness she’d presented was gone. Infact, her eyes didn’t hold a trace of despair. All the tears seemed to evaporate at that moment. “That was what I told you that night. Do you remember now?”

Soma’s fingers gripped Thea’s clothes tighter as her own pocket knife plunged deeper into her chest. She gasped loudly, two trails of blood falling from the split vessels in her eyes. She could feel her heart muscles hug the cold metal visitor.

“I told you, Summer” Thea’s flat voice floated over Soma’s dulling senses. “You don’t know the half of it.” The blade was yanked out, allowing blood spread out on her cotton shirt. “Don’t know the start,” The metal plunged back in. “Or the end of it.” Soma’s arms loosened around her sister. Out. “You really don’t.”

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Again and again and again.

Soma’s scleras were dyed red. A coppery iron taste hung on her heavy tongue. And her thoughts, they weren’t there again. She wanted to say something but it was as if she couldn’t access her brain to form the sentence. So, even in her last moment. Even when her vision turned black. Even when she stopped breathing, she remained frozen in that last thought.

I believe in you.

Soma’s arms dropped limply to her sides. Thea immediately stepped back, allowing the corpse crumple to the floor. There was still a tenderness in Soma’s eyes that had lost its light. Like the final emotion never caught up to the reality of what had just happened.

Thea crouched to pull out the blade from the body and tuck it back in Soma’s trouser pocket.

“Oh Summer.” Thea sighed, gazing pitifully at the state of the dead body. “Till the very end, you refused to acknowledge your fear of me.” She reached out to cradled Soma’s stiffening jaw in her hands with the gentleness of a parent. “You hid in this town, kept me as far away as you could afford, feigned a vengeful character to mask the guilt then played a forgiving character to mask the fear. I never needed saving.” The hand went over Soma’s face to close her bleeding eyes. “You did.”

Thea crawled away to pull the diary from the spot Soma hid it. Slowly and carefully, she flipped the pages.It was so quiet in the room, save for the rustling of those pages. She read so attentively and slowly you’d think she held an ancient holy relic that needed to be decoded. No emotion could be seen in her eyes however. At most, a twitch in her fingers every now and then.

Finally, she closed the book.

Crawling over the corpse, she gazed at the lifeless face with an empty laugh.

“You understand?” Her hand fell to Soma’s rigid one. The one that was used to hug her.

CRACK!

Three fingers were snapped at once. Thea’s hand remained there. Interlocking lovingly with Soma’s. She spoke quickly, desperately. In a tone so low it was as if she didn’t want to hear the words herself.

“You understand pain? You understand this virus? This- this ailment that taints us from birth? You understand what breeds into our very being the moment we take our first breath? What it means to wake up every day with a certainty of misery laying in wait? What it means to sleep with this festering despair? You fully understand it?” Her other hand pulled open Soma’s eyes again with two fingers. Wide black eyes stared into dead red ones. “What it means to sense a cloud of doom hovering over your head, its drops of damage falling one win at a time? To smell it in the sweet air of morning dew. To hear it in the cries disguised as conversations. To taste the copper of it in on your tongue as you eat your favourite meal. To feel the heat of it all burn into your skin, marking you as its representative for life. Do you fully understand that?”

CRACK!

CRACK!

The remaining two fingers were broken.

One after the other.

“Life? Living? The gift of life? This is not a gift. This has always been a curse. One that goes on for eternity. The very land you walk on feeds on your pain. Its longevity is parasitic to your vitality yet you aren’t even treated as the host. I put you out of this curse. This antibiosis. You? Save me? I saved you. I blessed you. And you dare forgive me? You?”

She pulled her hand away from the mangled mess of fingers to latch onto the corpse’s jaw violently. Like claws, her nails dug into the cold skin. The veins along her face and neck pulsed visibly against her own hot skin as she spat. “I’m the one doing the forgiving, you ungrateful bitch.”

DRIP.

A spot of blood fell onto Soma’s face.

“Sleep well sister. Now,” Pulling up to her full height, she absently wiped her running nose then looked out the window.

It was snowing.

“Where can I find a shovel?”

When she finally came to, she noted she sat up straight this time. Her awareness returned but not all her senses. It was dark. No she was blindfolded. The cloth was loose. There was a pressure by her feet and hands. Most likely because of a rope binding.

Luckily, the feet were bound separately to the chair legs so she was able to bend her head and use her knees as pseudo-hands to pull off the cover. It took a strenuous, painful distortion of her lower limbs but the cloth finally fell away. Her stiff lashes fluttered as she blinked repeatedly to adjust to the light. It wasn’t artificial. The open windows in the room spilled daylight into the space.

Another figure faced her, also tied to a chair.

Thea.

She was still asleep, head drooping forward, eyes tightly shut like she was stuck in some nightmare. Her curls stuck to the side of her face as it was damp with sweat…and blood. Her scarf was nowhere to be seen.

Not only did she bleed from the side of her head, her left pinky finger was also missing.

Tears welled up in Soma’s eyes. Less than 2 days ago her sister had been safe outside town. She had managed to keep her away from pain for 10 years.

How did she fuck it all up under 24 hours?

The guilt and shame ate at her. Ate so much she wanted Thea to just continue sleeping through it. Sleep through it all and Soma could find a way out and save them both. Take them to a faraway place their father woul never find. She’d tell her everything before was simply a bad dream.

But she couldn’t bear being alone in this room at the moment.

Alone in their childhood bedroom.

Her father had dragged them both home.

Back to where it all started.

Fitting.

She swung her leg to nudge her sister multiple times before she finally came to.

Her eyes were cloudy. Her lips were so dry the light scar at the bottom had gathered blood clots.

Wait. Soma frowned. That doesn’t look new. Did she always have a scar there?

“Thea!” Once those cloudy eyes focused, Soma spoke quickly to assess the situation. “Are you okay?!”

Silence.

“Are you… you’re hurt. He hit you?”

No answer.

Frowning, Soma leaned as forward as she could. To look at her sister. A good look.

Oh.

The confusion diffused to a familiar regret.

Her sister had regressed.

“Hey,” Soma softened her voice to be as quiet and soothing as possible. Thea’s hearing was sharper during her selective mutism that year. “Hey you’re okay. It’s going to be okay. I swear. I’ll get us out of this okay? You can trust me. I just need to- I can fix this. I will fix this. I saved you last time, remember?” Thea’s eyes- they were much more expressive now- held a subtle resentment at the word ‘save’. The confidence in Soma’s tone wavered. “…Thea?”

That emotion in her eyes disappeared.

Too fast.

Was it ever there?

I did save you, didn’t I?

That high pitch ringing was back. The frequency that pulled invisible strands in the back of her mind. Like a heavy hand was pounding on the skull. Something was screaming. Something- someone?

Must be the chemicals from before.

“Did Pa also use a chemical on you?”

No answer.

“...Who took you?”

No answer.

“It was father.” The pounding reached her temples. “He kidnapped you too right?” Cold sweat dripped between her brow. “Right?”

Thea shook her head.

No.

“He must be working with someone then. Could you recognize him?”

Another head shake.

No.

The tip of her hands trembled inconspicuously. “Okay.” Soma nodded slowly. “Okay. You know what, let’s not waste time on the who right now. We need to figure out how to get out of here.” She raised a finger and pointed to her pocket. “I hid a blade here. We can cut ourselves free and escape.”

At this statement, Thea’s eyes finally brightened with hope. They spent the next 30 minutes both trying to get the knife out. Thea had hopped to Soma’s side as close as possible.

It was futile.

The way their hands were bound made it practically impossible.

Both sweaty, Soma comforted her little sister who breathed heavily in exhaustion beside her. “It’s okay. Let’s just rest. We can try again later.”

They did try 3 hours later. It didn’t work.

So, a new plan was made. When the kidnapper came in, Thea would create a distraction. Then Soma would attack with her teeth. Bite an ear off or something. He just needed to get close enough first. It would hopefully piss him off enough to cause a ruckus that Soma could take advantage of.

They planned and planned and planned.

The moon came up.

Nobody visited them.

By the time the sun returned, the adrenaline from the previous day had died. All that was left were nerves, soreness and sleep deprivation. They’d returned to their original positions and stayed up with the impression they’d be ambushed in the middle of the night. They kept waiting and waiting and waiting.

But no one came.

At midday, the two stared at each other with sunken cheeks and dehydrated eyes. Neither had gone this long without eating or drinking water. The house was so quiet. Too quiet. Not even a creak from upstairs. This was their childhood home. It wasn’t soundproof. Even if there was movement from as far as kitchen, they should’ve been able to hear it.

Nobody else was in this house but them.

The moon came up again.

Soma coughed weekly. “Could be he got scared and ran off. Pa always talked big but deep down he’s just a coward.”

Thea’s head stayed down.

She tried to maintain a calm tone despite the spit ball of anxiety curling in her gut. “Don’t worry it’s going to be fine. I anticipated this so I gave the nurse at the clinic a note to give Mary if 2 days pass and I don’t return.”

Thea finally looked up, a new light in her eyes. She continued. “The police will get here by the morrow. I had an inkling we’d be dragged back here so I gave her this address. So you don’t have to be scared. I’ll always protect you. Nothing bad will happen to you. Okay?”

There was a sudden tiredness on her sister’s face. Soma couldn’t tell if it was from hunger or something else. Thea didn’t nod.

They slept.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The tap below Summer’s hands leaked a drop of water every second. This tap was connected to a long stream flowing downwards into an abyss. The clear water revealed the precious stones beneath that made the soil glisten.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

She was so thirsty. She’d thrown up so much. She felt dehydrated. Just a little water would be enough. Just a little. Her cupped hands went under the tap.

The dripping stopped.

TSSSSSS.

The tap broke and a flood gushed out from the opening. But the water wasn’t clear now. The color kept changing and deepening. Just as the stones kept growing and sinking. Deeper and deeper and deeper these stones and water.

The outpour stopped abruptly.

Summer was soaked head to toe in blood. It permeated her skin so much so that no amount of bathing could cleanse the red. Her wide eyes wandered to the depths of the stream again. Bodies. 5 of them. Dead as stones. Her father drifted above those stones, watching her in accusation before falling into the void with the waves.

CRASH!

Soma jolted awake at the loud noise. It was the early hours of the morning. Adrenaline pulsed through her viens.

He was finally here!

Her eyes darted around, body tense, ready to attack.

But the room was the same as before. Well no. Not the same.

Her sister was on the floor, chair still attached to her lean body as she crawled. She must’ve landed violently cause the socket of her shoulder looked weird. Popped. Dislocated.

The room filled with the sound of her pained wheezing but she kept crawling.

Crawling away.

From her.

“Where are you going?”

Thea stilled on the floor. Wordlessly, she pointed to the edge of the room. Soma followed the line of sight to catch the glint of a mirror shard.

A rush of relief went through Soma. “Great! That’s great. You did good. We can use that. Hopefully it’s sharp enough.”

It was.

Though it took half of an hour, Thea successfully sawed away the binding on her wrist with the same hand. Another 30 minutes was used to completely free both of them from captivity.

“You go first.” Soma shook her head at the waiting Thea who had pulled up the window for them to escape quickly. “It’d be better if we split. If he really is here and comes back not seeing us, he’ll go after us. I’ll stay and subdue him if he’s back.”

Her sister stared back, motionless. The look. That look. It resembled the ones the police sent her before. Full of doubt. Full of disproval. Full of exhaustion.

“Look, I’m done running away. You don’t have to understand. Just-” It took an effort to not get defensive. “Now that I’m unbound, he isn’t a threat. I know hand to hand. I’ve practically trained for a time like this my whole life. I can fight the best. And you can run the best. This estate is forgotten and deserted. l need you to meet the police halfway and redirect them here. I…don’t think the they would take me seriously if it was me instead. Okay?”

After a long beat of silence, Thea finally returned a slow nod.

Okay.

Soma was alone in her childhood bedroom.

She moved around a bit, getting used to feeling her limbs again. The plan was to ambush. Lay in wait for her prey.

But won’t it be smarter to venture out and chase? How could would it feel to be finally the one instilling fear? How would it feel to make the predator a prey?

Sweat dripped down her back at the sudden thrill at the thought. Blood pumping faster, she rushed forward and grabbed the door handle.

Then froze.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

There wasn’t a single clock in the room.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Nor a leaking tap.

For 10 minutes, she remained in that position.

Motionless.

Tense.

Quiet.

CLICK.

With a turn of the old key, Soma locked herself inside.

Her legs moved before her mind, covering the entire perimeter of the room. One round. Then another. And another. Again again and again.

Two hours passed like this. She could tell cause she was at the 3000th second count in her head.

Thea hadn’t returned.

Is she safe? Did Pa get to her? Did she lose her way. She hasn’t been in town for too long it’s easy to forget the roads. Do I go look for her?

The last thought triggered a visceral reaction. Her entire body broke into a cold sweat, goosebumps rising from her hot skin. It was as if tiny maggots bit and sucked holes in her gut like she ate something bad. Those scouting legs rushed to the window while her trembling arms picked up a chair to barricade it.

Another hour of pacing.

It was getting dark.

Hunger, thirst, dizziness. A normal human shouldn’t be alive at this point right? Was she dreaming? Was she already dead? What was happening? She was so hungry. So hungry she could even eat her father’s signature dish that killed them all.

That dish.

Why did she throw it up?

Didn’t she love it the most?

That dish.

Did she throw up?

That dish.

If she hadn’t, why wasn’t she poisoned like the rest of them?

I need a distraction.

Soma went to work, looking through the drawers. Maybe to entertain a nostalgia. Maybe something else. Since her father owned the house and so many people died, no one ever offered to buy and move in. Thus, too many traces were left behind, covered in cobwebs; clothes, toys, books. She went through it all.

In the bottom drawer of the only cabinet not damaged by insects was a diary.

Well it was a raggedy 40 leaves excercise book without a cover. But on the first page was written in bold letters; ‘DIARY’. Curious, Soma flipped open the next page.

Her body slowly lowered to the ground.

What the fuck?

Crossing her legs with a creased brow, Soma flipped through the book. Most of the pages were torn out. It was only towards the middle some ink writing could finally be seen.

Everything after that was either torn or too jumbled up to read. Soma finally remembered their dead dog, Derry. She’d found him in the gutter under the bridge on her way to school. She remembered how disgusting the saliva from his mouth looked. How she ran back to her father when she realized it was dead.

This wasn’t her handwriting.

Right?

There was loud knock by the window.

She quickly stuffed the diary under the bed before scrambling up from the floor.

Another knock.

As the window was barricaded by a chair and it was dark, she couldn’t properly see who was on the other side. Only a shadow could be made out.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

It was unhurried. These sequence of hits against the glass surface. After the 10th knock, there was a crash as a foot rammed into the opening to kick the chair away.

Soma’s back hit the wall, her entire back was drenched now from the cold sweat. The vein along her neck was throbbing so fast it threatened to pop.

Holding a white nylon, Thea weakly climbed back into the room. She glanced at the chair she’d kicked away in confusion. As if unsure of Soma’s mental state, she slowly raised the nylon in her hand like it was a peace offering. The leather was translucent, showing a pack of biscuits and water.

Despite the growl in her stomach, Soma stayed still. Her heart was pounding. So hard she feared it could be heard from the other side. “You came back?” The tremors in her voice were too obvious no matter how calm she tried to sound. “You didn’t find the police.”

Her sister shook her head. Pointing to the bag, she took a step forward.

Soma reflectively took a step back.

Thea paused, head angling just slightly. Like someone trying to decipher the actions of a mad man.

“So…” She pretended to not notice the questioning look on Thea’s face. “You looked around for food instead?”

Very slowly, as if interacting with a wounded but dangerous wild animal, Thea nodded.

“Thank you.” It was a losing battle, keeping her legs from going weak. “Thea, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me. Please can you do that? For me?”

The odd tone in her sister’s voice made Thea’s brow crease. Nevertheless, she nodded and hugged the bag to her body, waiting patiently for the question.

“What really happened that night 10 years ago?” Damp hands rubbed against dry, torn jeans. They still felt sweaty so she repeatedly wiped them on her shirt. “Are you lying to me about something?”

Thea frowned. She took a step forward but Soma flinched- no- jerked back, so forcefully her back hit the wall loudly. At such a reaction, a stiffness settled into Thea’s shoulders. Her expression fluctuated between shock, confusion and disbelief within 5 seconds before settling on one emotion.

Betrayal.

Oh. Soma’s heart twisted. What am I trying to imply? Why did I even ask that? How could I ask that? What’s wrong with me? I need to fix this.

She was just about to open her mouth and apologize when Thea’s gaze suddenly dropped sideways to the open and empty cabinet.

The betrayal. The sadness. The confusion. The disbelief. Whatever it was.

They vanished.

Instantly.

“Fuck.” Thea glared back up at her sister, tone bordering between cold and venomous. “You read my diary didn’t you?”

It was Soma’s turn to freeze mid advance.

Huh?

“I guess this route is absolute shit now. What a waste of time.” Thea angrily tossed the nylon of snacks to the corner. “Dammit.”

She pressed two fingers to the center of her forehead in open irritation before pointing one at the speechless Soma. “You just had to be nosy didn’t you?”

At the lack of response, Thea muttered a long line of curses. Right after, she went to pick the fallen chair and sat down.

Getting comfortable, she spread her legs and placed her elbows on her knees before speaking curtly to Soma. “Grab a seat.”

“Your…your voice. It’s back.“ Soma blinked as quickly as her thumping heart. “How.. how did it-“

“Sit.“

“Thea.” Soma was beyond lost. She kept staring at the expression on her sister’s face. The partly fed up, partly irritated look. It was an expression she’d never seen before. An expression that looked alien on that face. Not just that. She’d never heard her sister curse so bitterly. No. She never heard her sister curse at all. “What’s going on? Is this some sort of joke? I…I don’t like this game. It’s really not the time for this, T.”

“Sit down, Summer.”

“Can you just explain-”

“Sit the fuck down.” Her voice was sharp, cutting, mean. Even their parents never spoke to them in that tone. In this moment, Thea seemed so much more older than her. Than their mother. Than their father. “Let’s get this over with.”

“The police.” The wariness in Soma’s voice made her sound weaker than she wanted to. Feel weaker. “The police are supposed to be here by now. Did you really not meet anyone?”

“Oh. An Inspector with a little officer, a bit wet behind the ears right?” Thea wiped the back of her hand on her temple. A spot of blood was left behind. It wasn’t from her old wound. “Took care of those. It’s fine.”

“What does that mean?”

“Take a wild guess.” Thea’s lip rose derisively on seeing Soma’s eyes stray to the door. “Running away.”. She clicked her tongue like a parent disapproving of their child’s antics. “Again.”

“No.” Soma slowly curled her fist, finally resisting the urge to unlock the door. “No.” Enforcing a composure she did not have, she pulled the chair she’d been tied to for days and sit down right opposite her sister. Just two feet away.

Just like it was a few days ago. Only difference was neither of them were bound this time.

Soma nearly slumped against her chair. The tension, hunger and paranoia of the past 3 days had started getting to her. She could barely hold herself up. “I’m tired of doing that.”

“Great.” Thea dragged the word out. “Let’s get straight to it then.”

Despite sitting at the same height, she somehow managed to look down at Soma. From this angle, Soma noted dark circles she’d never noticed before on her sister.

“What happened that night? No-” She raised a finger before Soma could rebut. “Think before you answer. Just think for once. Then you can tell me the entire story from start to finish.”

“I don’t have to.” Soma’s snapped, beyond annoyed. “I retold the story to the police and doctors countless times then. There is not a night that goes by I don’t have nightmares about it. So no, Thea. I don’t have to ‘think’ about it cause those are my constant thoughts.” She took a long breath then continued calmly. “The lockdown had lifted completely. We all went out for Christmas shopping. Pa made us potatoes with meat gravy soup And we were all sat at the table- well except Ether. She was put to sleep early with her feeding bottle. After dinner I had an upset stomach so I went to the kitchen to throw up. I came out minutes later and everyone was dead. And father was missing. His seat was empty. Everyone was dead I thought. Then I heard you cough. You weren’t dead yet so I carried you to the hospital. It was raining and cold but I made you keep talking to me till we got to the clinic so I knew you were alive. Then the doctors took you. Then the police came and I said the same thing over and over again. Before they visited our house and after. That was it.”

There was a long silence. Thea’s foot tapped against the floor impatiently.

“Bullshit.“

“What?“

“50% of that was wrong.”

“No it wasn’t.” Soma’s shoulders hunched. “Don’t tell me what I lived, Theresa. You were barely awake for any of it.”

“Hah.” The side of mouth curled up as she let out a scoff. “Summer, oh Summer.” Thea picked on her lip scar, shaking her head as she watched her big sister fidget. “In what state did you find me?”

“...Slumped over the table.” Soma’s eyes darted everywhere but Thea’s face. “Spasming. Coughing. You were barely alive.”

“No.” Thea leaned forward, following the changing gaze. “I was sitting upright. Very healthy at that point.”

“No.” Soma shook her head quickly with a smile. The smile looked like it hurt. “That can’t be true. I saw it myself.”

“Don’t tell me what I lived, Summer.”

Soma’s head twitched. Just slightly. Like something was weaseling its way through her skull. There was a glitch in her vision. For a second, it wasn’t 22 year old Thea staring at her in impatience but a 12 year old Theresa sitting at the dining table staring at her in disbelief.

Terrified beyond her wits, she shot up from her chair.

“You were slumped on the table! That’s how it happened!”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Okay. Fine.” Thea watched her sister like a hawk as she paced back and forth. “Let’s use a different route then. How about Noel?”

“Noel?” Soma paused mid pace to glare at her sister. “Don’t bring my daughter into this. What does she even have to do with this? She has nothing to do with this.”

“Really Summer?“

“Yes!“

“Okay. Maybe this one doesn’t.” She spread her open palms. “What about the one before?”

“What are you going on about now?”

“Summer.” Thea’s voice dropped to a deadpan. “Why did you throw up that night?”

“I… I don’t know! I know. I know it couldn’t be because I hated the food. I’ve thought about it too! Thought about it for a while. But I don’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t hate it. Perhaps someone else did?” Thea turned one palm down. “Just because the host loves the food doesn’t mean it doesn’t taste like horseshit to the guests, right?”

“Don’t even start with the dumb riddles-” She blinked quickly. “Did you also write the riddle in that note-”

“Was the party analogy not enough? Hmm. How about,” The other open palm flipped. “The living host and the parasite?”

“I already warned you to stop with the rid...” Soma staggered back by a foot. Slowly. Very slowly, her eyes widened to the point of revealing upper blood vessels. Slowly. Very slowly, she fell back into her seat. “Oh.” Her stare dropped to the ground and two hands pressed into her head. Too fast. The memories were rushing in with a tempo that made the ground beneath her vibrate and blur out of focus. It was loud then quiet then loud again. Her head that was. “Oh my god.” The chair cluttered to the ground as she fell forward on her knees, retching. It was loud and disgusting. But nothing came out. Just hot, sick air that had been compressed within her for far too long. “Oh god.”

“Get back to your chair, Summer.”

The trembling body on the floor obediently crawled to the fallen chair, set it up and lifted itself back in place.

“Now. Look at me.”

Summer began twitching.

Her toes, fingers, eyes, knuckles, lips. Every joint jerked at that order. Especially her neck. It kept snapping sideways. Left. Right. Left. Right. Fighting. Fidgeting. Seizing. Like a fish out of water. Her body was fighting the metal block that kept her from looking her sister in the eye.

“Look at me!“

As if hit by a bolt of electricity, Soma’s body tightened and shot straight up. Her posture was stiff, mechanic and fixed.

But she was finally looking Thea in the eye.

Satisfied, Thea leaned back. A new air descended upon the room. Too composed. Too calm. Too in control. Both of them. One exuded this aura naturally while the other was stuck in a spell, forced to mimic the mirror.

Two identical pair of eyes stared somberly at the other. Eyes haunted by their respective demons. Even the dark circles were now the same. More than Alma and Christiana, they looked like the real twins.

Thea asked one last time;

“What happened on the night of ‘74?”

“Miss Saints please calm down.” Head Inspector Till, a middle agaed man with greying hair spoke in a pacifying tone like he was handling a difficult child. “A cold case can only be taken up as priority if it satisfy one of three requirements. New evidence, new witness, or it becomes a link to a different case. ”

“I’ve shown you evidence haven’t I?” Soma ran her hand through her long mass of dark curls. “What more do you need? A dead body? Presumably mine?”

It’d been an hour since the incident at the crossroads. The only way to settle the disturbed crowd was for the patrolling officers to take both her and the young thief in custody where they promised to ‘resolve the conflict amicably’.

Once the boy had calmed down and his fear subsided, all that was left was a vengeance so he didn’t let it go and pressed charges.

She returned the favour.

After a lot of back and forth, the boy was charged with light robbery while she got aggravated assault and disrupting ‘public peace’. Not only did she pay for personal and public damages, she had to spend a night in jail to ‘reflect’. Of course, the theif was stuck in the cells for a full week since he had no bail money or external support.

Once the teen had stormed off to go sleep in his cell, she brought up the letter in her bag to the onsite detectives. Not to justify her extreme actions but in an attempt to reopen the case.

She was stuck there all night, might as well try to have these useless cops do their actual job.

“Your life isn’t in danger, miss. We can assure you of that.”

“Really? How? From the looks of the note, my time is running out!” Her palms slapped the table lightly. She was breathing heavily, sweat staining her brows. The inspector and other two officers looked at her in exasperation.

They weren’t taking her serious. Just like they didn’t when told them she saw her dad in their backyard a year after the incident.

“Let me to list the facts, missy.” One officer leaned over the desk with a sigh. “On the night of ‘79, Joseph Saints’ fled his home after poisoning his entire family. A town wide search was conducted for the next two weeks. But there was no trace of him. Not even a foot trail. He’d only packed a suitcase worth of clothes. Didn’t take his car. Didn’t make any bank withdrawals. Didn’t contact external family members. Didn’t do nothing after the fact. Like he just vanished into thin air. The team on the case back then- after gathering extensive investigation- concluded he hitched a ride and escaped out of town right after leaving the house. There was nothing else to be done. Beyond our jurisdiction you see. You’d have a better chance skipping town and harassing Wisdow Mill’s stations instead.”

“No.” Soma shook her head slowly, jaw set. She knew her father the most. He would not leave here. The land he built his legacy on. She recalled his determined gaze when he spoke of his plans for this town. He had big dreams. He wouldn’t walk away from them. Too attached to this stupid ‘shine of the summer’. That was why he named the first child they had after the longest season in the town wasn’t it? “He never left this Creek. I am sure of it.”

He’d never leave until the job was done.

He’d never leave me.

“Oh really?” Inspector Till shared a knowing look with his colleagues. “And why is that? Why would a man stay in a town he was wanted in for ten years and do nothing at all? How did he survive? His poster was up for a year or two. Everyone knows him. Not a very big place you know. How did he get by? Where did he live? Why would he show up only now?”

She didn’t hold back the anger in her eyes. Nor the spite in her tone. “Isn’t it your job to find out?”

“We’re police officers, not ghost busters, dear”

Her face remained passive, ignoring the laughter around her. “So you’re really not going to look into this?”

The one that laughed the longest- and also seemed the youngest- suddenly pulled out a pen and piece of paper from his pocket. “Mind writing a few lines of words on this?”

“Why?”

The officer- named John- shrugged. “Just want to check something is all.”

Soma’s eyes narrowed. She caught on two seconds later. “Ha.” Her words fell slowly as she looked at each officer in painful realization. “You all think I’m crazy.”

“Miss-”

“You think I wrote this note myself and want to steer you on a wild goose chase for no reason.”

“Listen. We’re not knew to this. Some of us come from the big cities where cold cases are commonplace. The lack of answers has a way of… ” Inspector Till sighed, sending her a look brimming with pity. “You’re very stressed right now. It’s easy for your mind to canjure false narratives as a-”

“Fuck you.” She rose from her sit, a finality in her tone as she grabbed the note back and stuffed it in her pocket. “Forget it. I’ll fix my problems alone. Just let me have my phone call and I’ll be on my way to my cozy little cell. That good? Or would you like to ship me to those foreign mad houses instead?”

Not waiting for an answer, she limped away to the hanging telephone by the other end of the room, leaning on the wall for support. The tackle from above had her ankle bruised and the wound from yesterday reopened. Well not that the burn was anywhere near healing in the first place.

She ignored the dull pain, focusing on the hum from the wall phone that filed the awkwardly silent police station.

It ran for 2 minutes then stopped.

A bead of sweat slid down her creased brows.

She dialed again.

No answer.

Mary wasn’t answering.

Perhaps it was because she already acted out a few hours ago. Her rationale stayed in place despite the creeping trepidation. A new number was dialed.

CLICK!

“Hello. This is Shin’e Maternity Clinic.” A perfunctory voice sounded from the other side. “How may we assist?”

“Maryanne Saints’ ’” Her hand tightened over the twisted wire. “Where is- was there anyone of that name admitted today for delivery?”

“Ah…let me check.” The flipping of pages could be heard. “Well yes!” The voice sounded much more lively. “Are you by chance her wife, Mrs Saints?”

Soma released a heavy breath, shoulders relaxing. “Yes yes yes yes. I am. That’s me.”

“Your wife went into labour a few hours ago. There were a few complications- but!” The receptionist continued quickly before Soma could lose whatever sanity she was holding onto. “Everything’s fine now. The transition phase was stabilized. We’re moving into the pushing phase now.”

Soma’s heart thumped painfully in her chest. Too much information at once. Their baby was coming. She was going to miss it. Just like she missed knowing about a risk until it was already over.

Still, she was going to be a mother.

A mother.

Her new family was on the way.

“Okay.” She recollected herself after a minute, pushing away the self reproach from already being a shitty mother. “Okay. That’s great. That’s really great. Um. Since I wasn’t…available is her mother there? She’s not alone, is she?” Mary’s parents were out of the town for a work trip but they said they’d return today or tomorrow. She could only hope it was the former.

“Mother? Hmm no. It’s actually a family member from your side. A sister is what is here. What was the name?. Yes a sister. Thea.” The mid-wife chirped. “The patient asked for her since you couldn’t be reached during the complication. Your sister said she was out of town but promised to be here before morning. She’s an outsider ain’t she? How nice of her to come from so far!”

“What?” An strange emotion coursed through her being. It made her head suddenly begin to ache. Whatever little smile that was on her face completely disppeared. “Thea’s coming to Sunshines’? Can you tell her to not worry? Everything’s fine, I have it under con-”

CLICK.

The line was cut off.

“Times up, sweeheart!” Officer John called out to her, pointing to another inmate waiting for the booth to be free. “Next person!”

Soma stumbled out of the booth. Out of the holding space. Into the jail area. Into her cell. Not a seep of strength was left in her bones by the time her body dropped heavily on the unkempt hard bed.

Her little sister was coming back.

Back to this cursed town.

She had brought a loved one back to a hell whose devil had just returned.

Was this her father’s plan? To have her old and new family together so he could kill them all off in one go?

Why was he doing this to her?

Why couldn’t he let her be happy for once?

Were the nightmares not enough?

Her teeth pressed down on her tongue till she tasted iron. For this night, she won’t think about anything. Of her past or present or future. The bars before her didn’t make her feel caged but protected.

For the first time in years, Soma slept without night terrors, the dirty cell more home than any house she’d ever lived.

“Congratulations. Your daughter is very beautiful.”

Soma got to the clinic by noon and practically shook the receptionist for answers before the midwife that attended to Mary finally came to attend to her.

As she followed behind the midwife to the patient hall, Soma’s heart warmed.

It’s a girl.

“Do call if you need anything.” Stopping before room 12A, the midwife gave her last congratulations before she went back to her work.

Soma stood in front of the door, hand molded to the handle. The wound on her tongue from yesterday’s biting dully ached. Letting out a shudder, she pushed the door opened.

The lights flickered.

Off.

26 year old Soma.

On.

16 year old Summer.

The taste of vomit was still on her tongue. Summer wiped the water on her face with the back of her pyjamas sleeve. It was quiet. Too quiet. Everyone had stayed back at the dining table, chattering and guessing what present was wrapped in what box under the tree. It was so noisy when she left. But now. Now it was as quiet as the still lake.

“Manuel? Ma? Tess?”

No answer.

“Al? Chrissy?”

Her steps were light but hesitant. The view of the dining area slowly came into vision.

Her mother, Christina, Alma, Emmanuel, Theresa. Their heads were to the table. Silent but open eyed. They still had that Christmas shine of excitement to their faces.

But their heads were so still on the table.

So still in the puddle of blood and vomit beneath.

“...Ether?” Every step she took was heavier than the last. She stopped at the wooden cradle that rocked leisurely. Her 2 year old sister’s face was blue and rigid, a trace of vomit tinged with red still seeping out of the corner of her mouth. “Ether?”

Summer’s eyes slowly raised back to the dining table. Her own seat was empty. And so was her father’s.

Then there was a cough. Quiet. Weak. Frail.

It came from Theresa’s chair.

She looked back at the unmoving baby.

The light flickered once more.

Off.

Dead black eyes.

On.

Bright brown ones.

A tiny face with a cute button nose and pursed lips gazed up at her in innocent awe. Low gurgling sounds spilled from the drooling mouth. Little hands stretched upwards as if trying to wave at her.

“Hiiii my love.” Soma forced a smile, fighting the tremors in her hands. In her heart. In her head. Fighting the memories. “Look who finally popped out. My perfect pretty princess.”

The baby giggled at the coos from her doting mother, more saliva bubbling out of her tiny lips.

Soma leaned against the iron cradle and traced a bandaged knuckle along the sheet wrapping the child. “Mommy’s here. She’s so so sorry she couldn’t make it in time. But I’m here okay? I’ll never leave again. Ever.” She turned around to take in the patient room. Her eyes landed on the center bed. Mary was asleep, a drip in her arm. She looked haggard but peaceful. Her free hand was interlocked with another.

With Thea’s.

Her sister sat in a wooden chair. Head on her wife’s bed, sound asleep. So still she was.

For split second, the bed was a dining table.

Shaking her head, she bit into the wound on her tongue to stay grounded. Her eyes flickered between the bed and the cradle. Two women and a baby. Old and new family.

Her family.

She wasn’t going to let anyone take them from her again.

Dead. Her father needed to to be dead. That was the only way to keep them safe forever.

This invisible man had to bleed so no one else would ever again.

Taking a free stool, she sat and laid her head on the soft bed that smelt of medicine and disinfectant, staring at her sister. Thick brows, deep brown curls that stopped a bit shy of her ears, a snub nose. She looked nothing like her. So much more innocent. Much more younger.

Much more at peace.

She had to keep it that way. Even if it meant getting her hands dirty. She would do anything to maintain status quo.

Anything at all.

I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.

Thea’s eyes fluttered open.

Those soft brown eyes shifted from light daze to an intensified fear.

Something painfully twisted in Soma’s stomach. Too fast. Too fast to register. “What- what’s wrong?”

“Your eyes.” Thea’s voice was a low whisper, like the tone a little girl used when telling her big sister a secret. “They looked so much like Pa’s just now.”

“No.” Soma straightened rigidly, frowning down at her little sister. “No they don’t. Why would you say that?”

Thea watched her carefully before looking away. “Right. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry. I just… haven’t seen you in a while is all. You’ve grown up.”

Guilt came right after the relief. This was their reunion after 3 years. After she sent her off to another town for university. Paid for her classes, living expenses, food and all but never traveled out to actually see her. Never let her visit too. ‘Focus on your rehabilitation, who knows what can happen on the road?’, ‘We’re out of town this weekend’, ‘The roads aren’t safe’, ‘Just spend the holidays with your friends, no need to waste time traveling’ ‘The house is under construction’ ‘Maybe another holiday’

The excuses were endless.

She really didn’t want her here. What if she relapsed from the affinity? She didn’t want her to know the state she was in either. She wouldn’t get it. It was the only grudge she held against her sister. This trait of having too much love in her heart. She wasn’t sure Thea even hated her father. Like at all. A lot of sadness yes but never enough resentment.

I don’t want to let it go. Everyone seems to have moved on. Am I really the problem here? I don’t want to feel like something is wrong with me so I have no choice but to push you away. Why are you making me push you away? No. Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be normal?

“Have I?” Soma smiled away her depressing thoughts. “It’s been a minute I guess. But look at you. So mature. You cut your hair? It suits you.” Soma studied the vibrance in her eyes, the shine on her skin. “You look…healthy. No more episodes since the remission right?”

“No.” Absentmindedly, she rubbed a hand along the side of her neck before dropping it. “Not at all.” The hand raised again to be bitten. “You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m fine now- what happened to your hand?”

“It’s nothing. A little burn.” Soma put her bandaged hand away from her sister’s concerned gaze. “You should really stop that habit.”

“...I don’t do it so much again.”

“Liar. I can see the peeled skin at your fingertips.”

Thea’s eyes rolled, obviously exasperated. “I see you never grew out of your nagging phase. Good to know somethings will remain the same”

“It’s not ‘nagging’. I’m just telling you. It’s unsanitary. Not safe. You can get an infection. A lot of things get under the fingernails. Dirt, food, blood-”

“As much as I love the family reunion,” Mary, eyes closed, spoke with a tired smile on her face. “Could you two banter with a bit quieter of a tone?”

“Mary!” Her disapproval was instantly swapped for giddiness. Soma scrambled to the bed- as carefully as possible- to give her wife a kiss on her frowning mouth. “How do you feel?”

“Sore.” Tired but loving eyes drew open. “Better than the contractions atleast.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” She leaned down to kissed her again. “I should’ve been here. With you. I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up. And will explain everything once we’re home. …I really should’ve been here.”

“Mmm. You should’ve. What are you going to do to make it up?”

“Anything.”

“Really?” There was a calculative, playful glint in those grey eyes. “Anything at all?”

“Your wish is my command. I’ve already proven that to you a thousand nights haven’t I-”

“Okay!” Thea clapped, rising from her stool quickly. “I’ll give you guys the room.”

Mary’s cheeks warmed. “Sorry. We got carried away.”

“No no it’s fine.” Shaking her head with a laugh, she gestured to the rocking cradle. “You three deserve your alone time anyways. We can catch up later. I’ll just setp out for a bit. Need some air.” Another brief brush of her hand against her throat. “It wasn’t exactly a smooth journey.”

This time, Soma was the one to apologize. “I’m sorry.”

“That rude rider should be apologizing not you.” She rolled her eyes again, circling her scarf on her shoulders before pressing her flat cap on her mass of curls. “I’ll be sitting by the garden if you need me before I return. Congratulations again. Both of you. You’re going to be great parents.”

“You’ll be a great aunt too.”

“I’ll try my best.”

When the door shut, Soma sighed, taking Mary’s hand in hers. “I shouldn’t have brought her back here.“

“First of all, I’m the one that did. Second, she seemed fine.“ Mary squeezed the hand in hers. “Stayed up all night with me so she must be tired.“

“But-“

“Yes I noticed the ticks too but those are normal. Her body hasn’t grown used to being at peace. Let her work through it, okay? She’s a strong girl. You don’t have to worry.“

Not as strong as my father though.

Soma nodded, not meeting her eyes. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The old clock by the hospital wall had its second hand stuck at the 12^th number. Summer knelt by the patient bed. Her mouth was just an inch from Theresa’s ear. It was moving. Quickly. She was saying something. Again again and again, black eyes wide as the full moon. Whispers filled the room. Whispers full of venom. Full of spite. Full of malice. Whispers from Summer’s mouth. The pale, unconscious Theresa remained unmoving.

After an unknown amount of time, Summer rose in a confused daze, pressed a light peck on Theresa’s forehead and left the room with a faraway smile.

A rogue tear slide from Theresa’s shut eyes.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick!

Soma jolted up from her position beside Mary in a loud gasp. There was a panic in her chest that only resulted from escaping a night terror. Sweat stuck to her clothes and hair. She couldn’t stop the tremors in her hands.

It had been such a terrifying nightmare.

But she couldn’t recall a thing about it.

Wiping the drool from her mouth, she looked between Mary and Noel. They remained sound asleep. Thank God. While chatting and making plans for the future, they all fell asleep at some point. The combined exhaustion and all. Soma placed her feet on the ground and stared at the empty chair still holding Thea’s bag.

She wasn’t back.

Ignoring the sudden unease, she kissed her wife and her baby on the cheek before trudging out of the patient room. The garden. The clinic garden. That’s where she said she would be.

She wasn’t there.

The clinic wasn’t big. Just about a quarter acre of land. She scouted the entire maternity clinic perimeter under 10 minutes. The corridors, waiting areas, smoking exists.

Her sister was nowhere to be found.

Pressing a hand to her chest, she staggered back to the garden. To the wooden bench at the very edge.

A brown envelop sat atop.

Something screamed at the back of her mind.

Go back!

She took a step forward.

This is your last chance.

Another step.

Run away while you still can.

Another.

You don’t need answers.

And another.

Run away!

The envelop was in her hands.

Very slowly, very carefully, she peeled it open. Inside was a piece of paper.

And a severed finger.

The packet fell to the floor.

Followed by Soma.

No no no no no.

The tremors had multiplied now. Her hands, arms, feet, temples they all vibrated with a painful ache. Like tiny pounding hammers coursing through her veins. With the shakes and all, she peeled open the envelop again to retrieve the note, pushing the stiff body part aside.

“Ma’am? Are you alright?”

Soma raised her head to find the midwife from earlier staring down at her in caution. Frantic, she grabbed her by the edge of her skirt, screaming in desperation.

“Where is she?!”

The midwife was beyond scared. “M-ma’am?! Please calm down. Who are you looking for? Your wife is safe in the room. I just checked on her and your baby.”

“No. Not her.” She struggled back to a standing position, hands tight over the envelop, over the finger. “Where is Theresa?!”

“Theresa?”

“Tess- Thea. Her name is Thea. I mean. Where- there was a young woman by this garden. Probably sitting by this bench earlier today. Where did she go??”

Soma’s anxiety was contagious. The midwife broke into a sweat, trying her best to recall. “Black cap? Blue scarf?”

“Yes!”

“I think she was here for a while. Yes I saw them when I came out for a smoke break.”

“...Them?”

“Mmm. She was with a man. Older? I thought he was quite handsome so I asked my colleague at the reception desk. She said he came to see his family.”

It was as if someone dipped her head under cold water. Her senses dulled and all she could manage was a backward stagger to hold onto the handle of the bench.

Nausea.

She was nauseous. Just like that night. Just like the night she barely escaped death.

Run!

“Where did they go?”

The midwife shook her head. “I wasn’t here for long. And by the time I came out for an errand, the bench was empty.”

“Empty.” Soma exhaled heavily, chest stuffy. “It was empty.”

She stared upwards. At the setting sun. At the clear sky. At the light clouds.

She thought of her new family in the patient room while tracing a part of her old family in the envelop.

A full minute of staring upwards. The midwife was just about to rush away to call for help when Soma brought her head down to smile at her.

It was a faraway smile.

“May I get a pen and a notepad, please?”

The old church- abandoned mid reconstruction years ago- was the town’s only church years ago. Summer recalled looking up at the altar in awe every Sunday, excited to partake in communion when she finally finished her catechism. The entire place looked so grand back then. The cloaks, the gold chalices, the choir. Her father always indulged her with weekly Saturday evening visits so she could gaze up at the stained glass. Just the two of them.

Soma looked up now. The glass didn’t look so magnificent. Neither were the halls which were now filled with broken chairs, dust and cobwebs. As she sat by the altar, facing the entrance, she wondered if it was ever all that glorious. Or it was just the act of spending time with her father despite his busy schedule that she fancied. The act of being his favourite.

The sunset gave the interior a beautiful orange glow. It had taken half an hour to get here. It was already so late.

Back against the pulpit, she did another 360 glance. She was alone. Atleast for now. There was nowhere to run now. Nowhere to hide.

Time to confess your sins, father.

CRASH!

A giant rock shattered the left choir window. Soma shot to her feet, skirting close to the rock while keeping her back to the wall and surveying the area. Every few seconds, her hand tightened over the tiny blade she hid in her pocket before she entered the church.

Once she was only a few feet away, her eyes fell on the rock- no no that wasn’t a rock. A can? A can of what? And what was that tsss sound? Like a running tap.

She froze.

Shit.

By the time the realization hit, her legs had turned to jelly.

She’d inhaled too much already.

“No… no I need to-” Her knees hit the tiles, head dipping down as a wave of dizziness and exhaustion soaked into her bones. Even with the diluted senses, she could sense a figure from the corner approach. There was a confidence in the stride. One only someone in complete control of the situation could have.

One she had watched countless times growing up.

Countless times on Sunday and Saturday church visits.

All she needed to do was raise her head. No. Just look to the side and lift her eyes. That was enough. That’s all she needed to do to look her father in the eye- no. That wasn’t needed. She just needed to stab his foot the moment he was close enough. That was enough.

Her fingers weakly squeezed the blade handle.

No. Please. Not now. Come on. The grip was too loose. Just one last fight please. Her vision darkened. I need…I need…

I need you to die.

Lights out.

Thunder struck loudly from above.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll save you.” The teenager’s voice was barely audible over the rain and storm. “Big sis will save you. Keep your eyes open. Talk to me. Please say something, Tess.”

“Up..” The child’s dark eyes stared up, barely focused. She croaked, the top of her teeth red from the mouthful of blood. She was saying something. Repeatedly. The older girl couldn’t hear. “Ow up…it…”

“What? What is that?” The teenager ran faster as the thunder built up. Lightning struck a tree a few acres away. It caught fire. Hail, wind and the barrage. Everything was too loud. For a moment, it seemed they’d both fallen into hell. “What did you say?”

“Snap out of it!”

Soma violently jerked out of her trance at the yell. The cold, rainy night, the bleeding child and the pain beneath her feet. They all slowly faded away.

The blood on her hands morphed into skin burns. And in place of a child was a piping hot kettle of coffee, which was mostly empty as its contents dripped the back of her hand to the table, leaving the service area a complete mess.

“Jesus fucking christ.” Her manager pulled carefully extracted the kettle and cup from her still hands before addressing the customer with an embarrassed expression.

“Our apologies” He took the overflowing cup from Soma, turned its contents into a new cup and handed the man who stared at Soma with a mix of wariness and annoyance. “This order is on the house. Take a seat. Please.”

The customer sent one last disapproving look to Soma before rolling his eyes and going to find a seat. There were whispers within the shop as a great number of people hiding faces behind newspapers and magazines watched Summershines’ manager drag his employee to the back room to have a talk.

“I spaced out a bit. I’m fine.” Soma started the moment Freeman closed the door behind them. “There’s nobody manning the desk. I need to get back to work.”

“You call emptying a boiling pot of coffee over your hand without blinking ‘fine’?”

“It wasn’t boiling, just a little hot.” She waved her injured hand with a carefree tone. “I didn’t notice and was a bit distracted that’s all.”

“I can see the blisters, Soma.” Freeman spoke in a deadpan , angling his head at the closed door. “Everyone could.”

Soma looked down at her left hand. The skin was peeling and sweltering bumps were already forming. She decisively opened a few cabinets to find the first aid box. Only after applying soothing ointment and covering up the damaged skin with a bandage did she speak. “All fixed. Happy?”

“Som-”

“Oh my god. It was an accident. It’s been covered up. Everyone can drink their little teacups of sludge in peace.” Her back was turned to him as she placed the box back in the cabinet. “What more do you want?”

“Look,” Freeman glanced at the patch of sweat on his employee’s back. “It’s been a tough week. Your child will be on the way in a day or two. I think you need a break.”

She faced him, tone carefully leveled. “What?”

“You should take a maternity leave.”

“The fuck do I need a leave for? I’m not the one carrying the fucking child, Elijah- Sorry.” She caught herself, pressing her good hand to her temple. It started the ache the moment she was out of that trance. “Look. I’m fine. Mary’s healthy. The baby’s healthy. Everything is fine.”

“No. Not everything is fine. The shop isn’t. The customers are getting uncomfortable. This is the third time this week you’ve zoned out and caused a scene” He sent her an exasperated look. “It’ll be bad for business if this keeps up. The holidays are coming. Take a break, enjoy the time with your family. The new hire can handle the rest, okay?”

“’Bad for business’?”

Freeman stood his ground. “Yes.”

She watched him for a beat before letting out a derisive scoff. “Yeah, right. It’s freak show season. That’s why so many bastards are piling into this place. Not Christmas. If anything, I’m the one bringing in customers.” A sardonic smile crossed her lips. “Who doesn’t love a good sob story, right?”

“No, that’s not-”

“You know what? Fuck it. Whatever. Yeah. I’ll take it. I’ll take the leave.” Putting her apron away, she slung her back over her shoulder from her locker. “Unpaid at that. Compensation for all the ‘bad business’ I caused yeah?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

Freeman held her stubborn gaze for a while before sighing in defeat. “Never mind. Take care of yourself. You can resume by New Years’. Say hi to the wife for me?”

The only response was a loud slam of the door.

Elijah sighed and went back to work.

Despite using the back door to exit the cafe, Soma still felt multiple eyes on her as she made her way to the train station. It was a small town. Pretty easy to recognize each locale.

Especially if one was a survivor of the biggest murder case in the past decade- scratch that. The biggest murder case in the town’s history.

‘The Christmas Tragedy.’

That’s what they called it. That’s what they called the event that ruined her life. Ruined her past, present and future. Like it was some play you’d watch at those new buildings. What do they call them? Movie Theaters?

She didn’t even need to go as far as new inventions; every year around this period, a column in the papers would highlight the cold case from years ago. ‘Sending our prayers to the deceased’, they said.

Fucking imbeciles.

She didn’t need prayers. She needed answers.

Unfortunately, Sunshines’ Creek was only good for milkshakes, snow, and catchy music. The police detectives were as useful as dead algae by the sea. It was a wonder they kept up with the changing technology of the outside world.

The 10 minutes of the ride from Center Street to her home in Heedea was nothing short from torture. Again, again and again with the sympathetic looks like they’d do her any good. An old woman even rose to give her a free seat in the crowded train at the last stop.

She ignored her.

The goal was always the same. Get friendly with the survivor and get some gossip for tea time or bar time. Whichever you’d prefer. Such a shame. They all went bust. She had no interest in forming new personal relationships afterall.

How could she? She had everything she needed right behind these wooden doors of her home. The jingle of keys as she locked the door behind her caused her wife to stir awake from her sleeping position in the living room.

“You’re back early.” Mary blinked her sleepy eyes. They were a light gray, a stark difference from her dark skin. Her smile faltered once those eyes dropped to the Soma’s bandaged hand. “Did something happen?”

“It’s good to see you too.” Soma joined her by the side on the couch. She placed a kiss on her full lips, tracing the fresh scar by her buzzcut. “You couldn’t just wait till I got back for this? Look, you hurt yourself.”

“You’re one to talk.” Her voice muffled as Soma leaned in to nip on her bottom lip. “How did you get hurt? Lemme see.”

“It’s nothing. I got bored at work and played with the first aid to pass time.” Soma’s fingers traced soothing circles on Mary’s baby bump before pulling her maternity gown up over her head. “Lean back for me, will you?”

“Did nothing really hap- mmh.” A warm hand pressed between Mary’s legs. She felt wet kisses making its way from her neck down to her chest. “Wait-” Teeth scraped against her already hardened nipple. “just listen to-” Soma rose up again for a kiss, pushing the thumb that was just pressing down on her clit into her mouth while sucking on her tongue. Hard. Knowing there was no going back after this point, she quickly pushed her away. “Stop!”

Just like when Elijah shouted at her an hour ago, she flinched back. “Sorry.” Her eyes scanned Mary’s expression cautiously. There was only worry. Okay. She wasn’t mad at her. Good. “Sorry. Were you not feeling it? I wanted to make you feel better. Sorry.”

“Sun,” Mary sighed, taking her wife’s face in her hands. “What’s the matter?”

The tension in Soma’s shoulders lessened. That was Mary. As always she couldn’t have anything get passed her.

“Do you remember Bethel?”

Mary’s brow creased. “Your crush from Base 9? Yes. I do. A bit.”

“I really liked her. Did everything for her to like me back, you know? Bought her stuff, did her homework. Took her sports clothes home to wash even. Back then I could do anything for her. Even if it didn’t make sense. Like if she told me to jump off a building, I would. I liked her that much. I wanted to go on little dates by the river at the backyard with her. She was so pretty. I knew she’d look prettier by my side. I even used to wish to be reborn as a boy so we could have pretty kids in the next life.”

“Are you trying to get me angry right now?”

“No. Listen.” Soma smiled at the obvious jealousy on her wife’s face. She was so cute. “I went a little of track but my point is, I made sure I was very likeable. But I still got rejected in the end. And that was before the incident. Before I became a freak.”

“Sun-”

“I thought I was destined for loneliness forever. But here you are. You love me despite it all. It’s a miracle. And you know how miracles happen once in a lifetime. I don’t know.” She couldn’t meet Mary’s eyes. “I’m scared. What if- what if our daughter is also… what if she goes to school and hears about my past and find me a freak too? What if she doesn’t love me? What if she hates me?”

“My sun.” Mary tutted, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s very hard not to love you. Do you know that?”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Em-”

“Shut up and listen. I’m talking now. When you love someone, you love them with all you have. Your mind, soul and body. You become so thoughtful. so forgiving, so kind, so willing to please. It makes me worry sometimes. Because I know I could do anything, be anything and you’d still accept me. That’s how your love is. Being on the receiving end of that love, it’s a bit hard not to love you just as hard. Noel will also get to experience what it means to be loved by you. And just like me, would be completely enamoured. Your worries are baseless, my sweet shining sun.”

Soma took a while digesting the words before shaking her head. “You speak like you’re capable of doing something so bad. Even during these past 9 months, I’ve always been the one to start a fight, not you.”

“That’s not true. A few months ago, didn’t I bring up the ‘wanting a pet to practice mothering’ thing? Even when I knew how much you hated pets. It was selfish.”

“I never said I hated pets.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Sure. You love them so much you can’t help but avoid them whenever you’re out.” She continued before Soma could protest. “Anyways, I like that I get to keep you to myself. You’re too good. Too good for me. Too good for others. But you chose me. You’re the miracle, my love.”

Soma searched her wife’s eyes. There was no pity or caution in them. A bit of sympathy but most of it was pure unmarred love.

“You really mean that?”

“Yes yes yes yes yes.” Mary tugged on her nose with every answer. “Now stop moping around. Don’t worry about offending her, she hasn’t even been born yet.”

“Yeah.” Something in her gut twisted. Just briefly. So briefly she forgot about it in a second. “Yeah.” She sent a look slightly pleading, slightly frustrated. “Can I finally get back to what I was doing?”

Mary fought back a knowing smiling. It seemed her words weren’t enough comfort after all. “Mmm. Go ahead. Be gentle.”

“I will.”

“Your eyebags are getting deeper.” Mary frowned at Soma via the reflection in the mirror and she helped zip up her shirt. “Did you have a nightmare again?”

“Mmm.” She always had those during this period. Soma shuffled her hand in her bag absently as she made some finishing touches to her waist length kinky curls. “Couldn’t remember a thing as usual. Spent some time reading to fall asleep again.”

“Can’t you skip work today? Stay in? Sleep longer? I don’t like seeing you like this.”

They were at their front porch now. Mary held one hand to Thea and another on her waist for support. “Do I need to call Elijah?”

“Not necessary.”

“What about Thea?”

Soma sighed and kissed her lightly before backing away. “Not necessary either. Let her enjoy the holidays in peace.” She turned away, heading for the station. “I’ll call if it gets too much don’t worry. Go in.”

Mary looked at her with an inexplicable expression then gave in. “Fine”

Soma walked confidently up until she was out of sight from their home before she faltered, her shoulders drooping. After finding a bench by the cross roads to the rails and stations, she did some people watching. Every half a minute, someone would pass by on their way to work or school or a sort of meet up.

Not very eventful.

It was a town with less than 500 people. A mundane place with mundane people.

And it was harrowing. This loneliness within a lonely place.

Also the deep sated anger. An anger brewed by a town that allowed cases to stay dead with its victims till not even the bones were left.

So much anger. But nothing to do with it.

The only comfort was she was the only one out of the two survivors that got to experience it.

Glancing up at the dark clouds, she thought to herself.

Would it be rain, hail or snow this winter?

Alma would know. She was always so obsessed with the stars and the signs. Soma peeled her wallet open to count her change.

It was a few days until Christmas.

A visit was due anyways.

“Snow you say? Why is that?” Soma listened attentively, drawing out the letter S on the grass. “What? It marks new beginnings? What if Noel isn’t born by then hmm? What new beginning would that be?”

She looked up, patiently waiting for an answer. The 2 feet tall gravestone, marked A was already disintegrating. On that lack of response a minute later, her eyes panned to the other headstone, same height with the carved letter C.

No answer either.

So she looked to the next, E. A bit taller. But still silent. Then the next, the tallest, M. No answer. And finally, the shortest, another E.

Well, this one never got to the age of speaking so it was a dead end.

In all the ways.

Haha.

“No I'm not explaining the joke, none of you want to explain the answer.” Soma smiled softly as she placed a flower in front of each gravestone. “Oh this? It’s nothing. Just a little burn. Don’t worry about it, Ma. You know me. Always petty. Always careless. Always forgetful. Right?”

The wind whistled in the empty cemetery of Sunshines’ Creek. The only sound was the rustling of dried leaves around her. As always, she had to fill the quiet with her own bitter voice. “Yeah.” A rogue tear fell. She quickly wiped it away. “Yeah. I’ll take care of myself. Sorry for worrying you guys. I'm sorry.”

For a brief moment, she could see the afterimages of her mother, brother and three sisters above their gravestones. They frowned at her then smiled. Then frowned again.

Then they were gone.

Every single year.

The first frown because she never brought news that justice was finally dealt, the second because she visited atleast, the third because she always came alone.

A tree branch snapped loudly.

She scrambled to her feet, whirling around, eyes darting into and through the open plains and nearby trees.

To find. To catch. To accuse.

“Who is that? Show yourself!”

Silence.

“Cowards. “After a long minute of no response, Soma gritted her teeth and sat back down, fighting the urge to kick at nothing. “Shouldn’t they be bored already?”

She could understand the initial buzz. There was even a popular phrase whispered amongst locales the first two years.

‘If he can feed ‘em, he can kill ‘em’.

Back in the day, a family of 8 was an unprecedented. But her father pulled it off as a breadwinner, providing all needs for the unusually large family. It brought about a lot of jealousy from the common man.

He spent so much money on them, it’s justified to wipe out more than half right? This jealousy had morphed into a satisfied sneer barely hidden under the pretense of sympathy and pity. No one actually gave a fuck. The town was alien to danger. Not even robberies happen. Thus the incident a decade ago was categorized as ‘family drama’, not raising any alarms. Even back then. The neighbors that were so friendly with them. They let her run that night alone. No one helped. No one opened the doors.

No one cared.

During those times, she’d always wish the plague of the industrial era would return and knock them down with ailments that made them wish they were dead.

But she was all grown up now. She had to take care of her heart. Keep it clean with positive thoughts. For her new family. She had to swallow it all down.

This frustration that came with having no closure whatsoever.

Having a dead family and a living murderer.

A dead case and surviving witnesses.

Soma looked down at her bandaged hand. Times like now. Time when it was too painful to handle alone. Times when even Mary’s comfort wasn’t enough, she wanted to call Thea. Call the only other person that could perfectly understand this misery from being left behind.

She wanted to find a phone booth to call her little sister. And tell her, no she actually wasn’t fine. That she was lying every time she called.

Nothing was fine.

And she was tired and scared. Especially now. Especially with her new family taking shape. She was so scared.

Soma sighed. It was a good thing. That young minds tend to forget the most traumatic memories or atleast misinterpret them as something more palatable. She hoped Thea wasn’t lying like her. And meant it when she said she was making friends in her university and was doing fine.

After the incident, her sister had gone mute for a year. It was only after they moved to their aunt’s house that she could speak again.

But that hadn’t been enough. In exchange for her voice were little moments of her breath. Every few days, she’d suffocate randomly and faint, visiting the clinic more than the sick. The doctors said it was a trauma response. Her mind was stuck in that night, choking on the poisoned food that nearly killed her along with the rest of the family.

Looking up at the dark clouds, she thoughts up the days leading up to that night. Of the bruises she noted on her little sister’s face. Back then, she’d claimed she ran into a wall. She’d never forget the fear in Thea’s eyes when she asked what had happened. She’d just assumed she lied because she didn’t want her big sister to embarrass her in school by trying to confront the bullies.

If she had prodded a bit more, maybe. Just maybe she’d have learnt how much their Pa hated them. Early enough to stop that night from happening. Early enough that everyone would've been alive right now.

Thankfully, Thea’s ptsd had finally been cured and the latest episode of choking was like a year ago.

Drowning in regrets of the past, her eyes caught a tiny headstone hidden right beside the far right E gravestone. Soma frowned, crawling on the grass to have a better look at it. This headstone was barely the size of her palm.

The surface had a letter. But it'd been scratched on too many times. She couldn't discern it.

What the fuck?

Was someone pulling a joke on her?

But the headstone looked the same as the others. Same source. Same aged look. Same carving. She was the one that carved them all personally. This little stone looked like her work.

But why would I carve an extra stone?

Has this been here from the start?

Why am I just noticing it?

Blood rushed into her ears, a sudden pounding reaching her head. There was a low ringing in the back of her mind but she couldn’t interpret what the frequency meant.

With trembling hands, she packed her belongings and rose to her feet unsteadily. She had to leave. It was getting dark. Her family was waiting for her.

She had to leave now.

Or something bad would happen.

At close of business, Sunshines’ Creek main crossroads were bustling. Quite a rare site. The small crowd walked in a fast pace, focused on getting home or onto the next shift. Each person held a suit case or handbag or dragged a wheelbarrow of goods. Despite trying her best to stay untouched, someone bumped- rather violently- into Soma. She grabbed her bag before it fell to the floor. Out of habit, she looked inside.

Her purse was missing.

She was already disoriented from the cemetery visit. So when she found in the empty space, a small piece of paper, she nearly doubled over. The world spun in her vision, limbs gaining tonnes of weight as she pulled out that note.

A scratchy handwriting, with smudges of blood and ink said:

Her blood ran cold.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

Pounding. Her heart was pounding. Everything seemed to default to a laggy motion picture as she turned around.

Within the crowd was a man in a tall trench coat, hunched over himself as he shuffled through.

Father.

The fear burned into rage.

Her feet moved before her mind did, short heels hitting the gravel pavement in a loud statement as she pushed through and away every single obstacle between her and the murderer. Humans, stalls, signposts, trashcans. Everything. Creek Crossroads became a confused tussle as two people engaged in a chase of cat and mouse.

The man in the trench coat ran just as fast but the distance gradually closed in. Seeing she was only a few feet away, Soma scrambled up a stall on all fours before shooting off to land right on the the mouse, sending them both crashing into the main roads in a violent tumble of limbs. Cars jammed into the other at the chaos, trying to avoid flattening the two brutes.

“Finally caught you, you bastard!”

A heavy fist slammed into the man’s face the instant she caught her first breath on landing. There was a loud crack as both her ring finger and the nose beneath broke from the impact. But it was just the beginning. Her hand never stopped rising and falling, pummeling the man under the loud screams and horns from all around her. Everything was spinning. Everything was blurry. Everything was painful.

But she couldn’t stop.

“Give it back! Give it back!” With every punch, her vision flickered between black and white. “Give me my family back!”

Hot and Cold.

Present and past.

One flash.

A bleeding man beneath her.

Another flash.

A dead dog beneath the bridge.

One flash.

The alien eyes of a thief.

Another flash.

The familiar eyes of their family’s pet.

Her fist, bathed in blood froze mid-punch in the air.

Seeing the opening, the young man skittered away from her very still figure, crying out in fear. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll give it. I’ll give it back, don’t come close!”

Her purse was thrown back to her as onlookers finally stepped in to create distance between the two ‘fighters’. Soma blinked at her purse. Then at the crying man with the newly disfigured face.

Huh?

She glanced down at her burst knuckles.

Then at the man again- no not a man.

A boy.

Late teen at most.

What?

She had been so sure it was her father. The silhouette looked exactly like him. Or exactly like what she remembered. But this..boy was just short and scrawny. Nothing like the imposing image of her father. This wasn’t a murderer.

Just a random pickpocket.

Something cold clamped across her wrists. A stern hand hauled her to her feet. The crowd was staring. Whispering. Shaking their heads. They looked disturbed. Scared. Scared of her?

Why would they be scared of her?

Why would they be scared of me?

I spent the entire Saturday preparing for this dinner in the chapel. The building was formerly a hostel so they left a block of rooms untouched while renovating. It was mostly used for storage though.

After hours of applying my home econs skills from JSS3, the gloomy veranda of the block now looked like a presentable dining area holding two chairs and a table I found from the sacristy. Along with the single plastic flowers scattered on the tabletop, I also handpicked a bunch of ixoras behind assembly ground to make a giant bouquet at the center of the table. I’d bribed the kitchen women with my savings to make a separate portion of evening food so the taste and aroma could match the ambience I was trying to create.

Everything needed to be perfect.

Thus at 7:58pm, 2 minutes before Becky promised Dinma would be here, I was still rearranging the shiny cutlery on the dining table and smoothing out nonexistent creases.

It had to be perfect.

What if she didn’t take me back?

There was a knock on the door.

I wrung my hands, sweat coating the back of my neck as I trudged towards it. A shudder escaped from my chest as I slowly turned the key.

Okay. Just stay calm. You already know what to say. You rehearsed a thousand times. Once she sees my sincerity, it’ll be fine. She’ll take me back.

She will.

If she doesn’t, I’ll just cry on my knees and hold onto her until she does.

Piece of cake.

Right?

The door swung open with a creak.

It had only been a week. Just six days but it felt like years since I last saw her. It was also like I was seeing her for the first time. Her hair was loosened again, this time packed in a bun instead of up in a high afro. She had kajal along her waterline of her eyes. It made them more dreamy than they already were. I didn’t want to keep looking into them. I might drown and forget all I rehearsed.

She’s just so pretty I couldn’t help myself.

Clearing my throat, I attempted to sound casual. “Hi.”

Dinma just looked at me. For a full minute, she didn’t blink. Like doing that would be a grave mistake.

It’ll be fine. I broke into a cold sweat, stepping back. “Um, do you want to…”

She nodded slowly then walked passed me. I locked the door behind us before awkwardly gesturing to the dining table. “Have you eaten? You said your preferred fried instead of jollof. And I made sure there were lots of carrots like you like and em- well I got- used ceramic plates since you said food tasted weird on iron sometimes. Then- I wasn’t sure between yogurt or chapman for the drinks cause you liked them both but I didn’t know which you took with rice. So I just put both. Is that fine? What should I remove? How’s the lining? I used the one you gifted me a month ago from your tie and dye practical. It’s fine right? Or I shouldn’t have? Do you like it? Or do you want me to remove-”

“I’m sorry.”

My word vomit came to an abrupt stop at that sentence. Before I could think, Dinma grabbed my hands. They were clammy.

“I was being stupid. Selfish. I- we were under the same pressure. And you were the only one actually putting an effort so we won’t get caught and punished. Because of you, we were able to get the best out of our situation while being protected. I know that now. I know even when you smile, you were also anxious. I know because you were so panicked the first time that you had to practically drag me out of exam hall. I was only thinking about myself all this time and how I felt. I didn’t think about you. I’m sorry.” Her expression was scattered, with helplessness. With self reproach. “I was also jealous. Of you. You’re always surrounded by people. You can easily move on without me but I don’t want to go back to before you. I won’t be able to handle it. And I was so me. And you were you. So I was scared you were just doing charity work. How could someone like you actually like me? I knew I was being insecure but I was too ashamed to say it out loud. To ask you to tell me I was wrong. What if you told me I was right instead? I shouldn’t have ignored you after we fought. And after the night at the clinic too. All I do is run. I never even apologized for the first time. It must have been so lonely. I’m sorry for that. I really am. I’m childish and it makes me hate myself. But you hurt me. You’re the only person that made me feel like I wasn’t too much. But you said that and I thought ‘so I’m the problem afterall’. I felt terrible because I know how hard you try to make me feel better when I’m being difficult. I told you I needed time but I wanted to see how long it would take for you to move on. Wanted to know if you were being nice so you couldn’t be the one to leave me. Wanted to know if you felt like a burden was off your shoulders this week now that you didn’t have to ‘handle’ me. I’m scared. Don’t get sick of me. Please. Don’t get tired of me. I’m so sorry, Kachi. Please. Please don’t leave me. Please.”

She was crying. At some point her words became choked and tears were spilling out, dropping from her jaw to the tiled floor. The sobs raked through her body making her shoulders tremble and voice break multiple times while she spoke.

I’d never seen her look so defeated.

Staggering forward, I pulled her into my arms.

She cried harder, hugging me tightly.

Like if she let go, I’d vanish.

Oh.

My heart twisted in knots.

We needed to clear the air right now.

Gently, I guided us to a dining chair then sat down, making her settle on my lap. Her hands came up to my neck and she buried her face there. The sobs calmed a few minutes later. Her body was still save for the quiet sniffles here and there.

“Do you feel better?”

Dinma raised her head. Her eyes were puffy, face wet from tears. When she spoke, it was in a hoarse, tired tone. “A little.”

“I’m going to talk now. Please listen to me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re not too much. You never were, never will be. Anyone that thinks like that is an idiot, including you. Especially you.” She smiled at that. I felt like I could breathe a little better. “And I was wrong. Very wrong for being so neutral about everything. For still hanging around people that spoke about you like that. I was wrong. They aren’t my friends anymore. I don’t think they ever were. And it was never a burden when I tried to make you feel better during your mood swings. Even the worst ones. Taking care of you is second nature to me. I want to do it. I enjoy doing it. And I’m so crazy about you. So crazy I was scared you’d notice and be freaked out by it and lose interest in me. Jesus, Dinma I thought I was the charity work.”

She sucked on her bottom lip, shaking her head. “You’re so cool though.”

“You’re much cooler. You don’t need so many ‘friends’ around you to be cool. But I do understand where your jealousy came from. And I know you were sorry about the clinic thing. Nice to hear you apologize but I really never held it against you. I understand. And you’re not childish for getting scared after we sat through 2 hours of hearing how cursed we were for what we did the night before. Self preservation isn’t selfish. Yes, I’m just as tired of this stunt. But never you. I can’t get sick of you. I could never leave you. Not because I’m nice, Chidinma.”

“Then why?”

“Because,” I sighed. “I love you.”

Dinma’s eyes watered again but it didn’t hold pain. Just a sort of elated relief.

“I should’ve said it sooner. I don’t know why I never said it out loud.” I used my thumb to wipe the fresh stream of tears from her face. “But I really do. I’m so in love with you I don’t know what to do with the intensity. It sometimes scares me. But in a good way. And I should’ve told you this everyday since we started dating. No- since I met you. How much I love your voice. Love your habits. Love your drawings. Love your rants. Love your lips- very dear to me actually.” I leaned in and kissed her softly. I felt her smile, tasted her laughter. “Your skin.” My finger traced along her jaw then stopped at the edge of her eyes. “Your eyes. They tell me so many secrets you never want to voice out. My little loyal informant. I love everything about you I want to do more to express it. I’m not very talented but I’ll learn. Learn to put my thoughts into words. I want to write about my love for you. Like you do with your drawings. Bear with me okay? I’ll be clumsy at the start but I think my poems would one day live up to the love I have for you.”

Dinma didn’t say anything. Just leaned down and kissed me back. Deeply. There was a lot communicated during that exchange of breaths.

I won’t forget it for as long as I lived.

When she pulled away, we were both dizzy and uh… bothered. Her body temperature rose and her arms tightened around me. I felt her cross her legs, drop her face to my neck and let out a frustrated sigh.

Sensing the mood, I asked nervously. “Should we…should I? Can I? Would you like me to…”

A beat passed before she peeked up at me shyly then glanced at the table. “What about the food?”

“The weather is so cold. It won’t spoil. We can eat it later.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” My hands fumbled on her waist.

She laughed at my barely hidden anticipation. “Okay.”

“What are you thinking so deeply about?”

It was the early hours of the morning. We were on the bed in the 2^nd chapel room clothed only by the sheets I brought from hostel. I woke up before Dinma, just watching her sleep. It was so peaceful I couldn’t believe so many things- emotionally and physically- went on the night before.

At the question, Dinma who had been brainstorming since her eyes fluttered open, turned to me and said with a smile.

“Let’s break up.”

I almost fainted.

She continued speaking despite my close encounter with meeting the holy spirit. “Listen first. We have a month left in this school. I don’t want the outcome of our final memories in secondary to be dictated by how well we pretended. I don’t want us to use ourselves to entertain people that would hate us otherwise. I also don’t want us to go back in hiding. And I want us to be safe too. So, let’s stop it. The pairing. And the undercover dating. Let’s be friends for the next 4 weeks. We can do that, can’t we? Can we just enjoy our last days without any worry?”

I let out a long aggrieved breath. “Can you start with the explanation instead of that sentence next time? Didn’t I do good yesterday, why did you give me a heart attack in return?”

Dinma laughed and gave me a loud kiss on my cheek. “You’re traveling to Lagos with your family after this right? Relocating I mean.”

“...Yes.” Damn I forgot about that. The university I selected in JAMB was in Lagos. But I never actually asked her where she was schooling after this.

Another topic I avoided because of fear.

Were these last days actually going to be our last days physically?

I didn’t want to do long distance.

Couldn’t bear it.

“Let’s start again there.” Dinma brought me out of my depressing thoughts. “I heard they’re more people like us there. Not open but they have special spaces we can be in. We can make actual friends that understand us too. We can be an actual couple. No hiding. Atleast not all the time. It’s not perfect but it’s something.” She tried to hide the anxiety in her voice but it was apparent in her eyes. “What do you think?”

It sounded too good to be true. “What… what about school? And your family? And your home?”

“I already decided in SS2 to move out after secondary school. My parents accepted my decision. I just didn’t know where. I just knew wherever I relocated to would be where I schooled.”

It was my turn to be crippled with anxiety. “What if you…” I couldn’t voice it out. Couldn’t voice out this fear that hit me from the gravity of what her decision meant.

What if you regret your decision? What if you fall out of love with me eventually? What happens when we break up and you’re stuck in a city and a school you hate because of me?

I don’t want you to make a decision you regret.

“I know what’s going on in that your big head.” Dinma took my cold hand in hers. “I don’t know my future. But I know my now. And this now…this now loves you so much.” It was the first time she said the ‘L’ word. She had to let out a shaky breath before repeating it with a certainty that made me fall in love with her again. “I love you so much and I like to believe whoever I become in the future would be proud that I chased my love with all I had. That I fought for it. That I did everything I could to love you with no regrets. This. This is my priority.”

I swallowed. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Her smile was contagious. Warm. “Okay.”

“Let’s enjoy our last days.” She gave me a final kiss on my grinning lips. “And build our firsts again. Will you do that with me?”

“I will.”

…

“Say Cheese!”

Becky and I posed in front of her mother’s camera, forming a heart with our hands before the click sound.

“Congratulations my smart girls!”

“Thank you ma.” I said, happily collecting the takeaway plate of rice she passed to me. “My mum said I should greet you.”

It was graduation day. Cars and canopies were scattered across the school’s main field, celebratory music booming through different speakers. I held my food and graduation cap in one hand while removing my grad gown. My mother who would’ve been the only other person to force me to wear it while taking pictures was away on a business trip. I was supposed to follow Becky’s family home then she’d travel a week later to pick me up.

I left Becky to celebrate with her family. They were leaving by 5 so I had three more hours before I said goodbye to this school forever. I visited two more spots-Tola’s and Aisha’s- Ms. Beatrice nephew- before heading to my final destination.

It took a while but I finally found the white jeep that was described to me earlier today and skipped to it, unable to push back the giddy smile on my face. By the driver’s seat was a man who looked very much like Dinma. Just older and more masculine I guess.

“Good afternoon sir-”

“You’re here!” Dinma jumped on me, legs wrapping around my waist. She literally came out of nowhere. I had to stumble back to regain balance so we both won’t topple. “I thought you got lost. You’re terrible with directions.”

“I did my best really…” I wasn’t entirely sure where to keep my hands. Her father was right there. Dinma didn’t seem to notice my trepidation, she stayed in place.

“Do better.” She looked down. The bag that held my gown and 4 plates of food had fallen to the ground since I had to let go to catch her. “Ah! My bad.” She climbed down from me to pick them up.

Bending to help her, I discreetly raised my eyes to look at her dad.

He was on his phone.

After Dinma properly introduced me to her father as her friend, we spent the next 30 minutes making videos and pictures with her phone- I didn’t get mine since no one came for me. After that, she took my hand and dragged me inside their car.

“I wanted to give you these.”

It was a tall stack of novels. The first 10 releases from the ‘In death’ series. She had ordered online and they got delivered just yesterday. We were shoulder to shoulder, brushing through the contents of each book. There was music playing in the car but it was mostly bass. Probably her father’s playlist. She spoke lowly to not be heard.

“The relocation process will take a while. For both of us. So we won’t get to see each other immediately. Think of me while you read these, okay?”

“You want me to think of you while reading bloody murder?”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I actually don’t please explain to me.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“I’m not the one that thinks corpses are romantic.”

“Oh my god. I did not say that.”

We continued our pointless banter in low inaudible whispers until we were interrupted by a question from the front.

“So she’s your girlfriend?”

We froze.

Dinma’s father continued, raising his eyes to meet her shocked ones via the car mirror. “I’ve never seen you act like this around someone. Is it not because you’re dating?”

I actually heard Dinma swallow beside me. “…Yes, dad.”

“Hmm.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The car felt silent despite the bass music. We both waited like a scythe was hanging over us. “Kachi, what state is your university in?”

“It’s-” Shit. “It’s in Lagos, sir.”

“I see.”

Another bout of finger drumming.

Finally, he shook his head and muttered. “Just like your mother. So impulsive.” He turned to speak directly to his daughter, face stoic though his voice was a bit exasperated. “Your mother won’t like this.”

“Dad-”

“I know you’re 18 but you’re still a small girl in her eyes. Just keep this dating thing a secret until you’re like 20. Atleast from her. Understand?”

Dinma blinked very slowly. “…I understand.”

“Good.” He turned back to face the steering wheel, pulling out his phone to type. “You know things will be hard for you both moving forward?”

This question seemed to be directed to me. I straightened then nodded. “Yes we’re aware. We’ll be careful. I- I’ll make sure she’s safe, sir.”

“Hmm. Well, you’re just a child too. What can you even do?” He waved his hand dismissively though I caught the approval in his tone. “I have a gay friend in that state, I’ll contact him to watch over you two. Don’t let anyone bully you. If they do, let him know, he’ll take care of it, okay?”

Dinma and I looked at each other, eyes red with unshed tears. Our hands found the other and we held on tight.

“Okay.”

Everything was going to be alright.

It isn’t going to be an easy road ahead. But we have each other. And we have people that support us. Sometimes in person sometimes online. And eventually, we’ll meet more and more people like us. People that get it. That understand. That make us feel safe, wanted and normal.

So until that time, do not lose hope.

Do not lose yourself in the hate and prejudice.

Do not give up on your love.

No matter what the majority may think of it.

Believe in yourself long enough, someone else is bound to believe in you too.

Cheers to a much more colorful future.

~Love, Theo

TALES FROM ‘19 CATALOGUE

Her mood swings started to have shorter gaps and my attempts to cheer her up were always futile. She seemed to get sadder by the day. She said she was fine. That it was normal and she’ll spring back. But I knew these weren’t regular ‘mood swings’. I’ve known her for three months, dated her for over a month, I think I understood her. At least better than the average person.

She was depressed.

And she won’t admit it.

But I knew why. The act. It was getting to her. A few nights ago we sat at love garden and people passed by us, waving. She muttered something while her head was on my shoulder. If I wasn’t so focused on her presence, I would’ve missed it.

‘I feel like a clown’

That’s what she said.

A clown. I understood the sentiment. Of feeling like a jester in a circus. And at the end of the shown, the flowers thrown felt like tomatoes.

But the only other option were knives.

“What’s wrong with you?”

She asked that in the middle of the argument. I couldn’t believe my ears. For the past 10 days, I’d been as supportive as possible and she was asking what my problem was?

“Are you seriously asking that right now?” A headache had started to form between my brows. We were at our regular spot behind old library. What lay before us were acres of dry grass and plantations. It was the only part of our school border that wasn’t gated so as to allow natives visit their farmlands. Thus, students and staff rarely passed the area. Regardless, I stayed calm and kept my voice neutral. I didn’t want to raise my voice and make her more upset. “What more do you want me to do, Dinma?”

Not only did she not answer, she moved 5 feet away to stay by the adjacent wall covered in tiny ants. She hated that wall.

That simple action and what it possibly meant made me nearly lose it. “Why are you angry at me?“

Dinma wasn’t only sad about the situation. She was frustrated. And angry. I was 90% sure I was the reason for that anger. Not them.

Me.

What the fuck did I do?

“How can I not be angry?!” Dinma’s spat out those words like it held venom. But she didn’t shout. She was too softspoken to know how to. “How can you act like this??” She was pacing back and forth now, hands moving around in jerky motions. “How can you act like this? How is this normal to you? Why are you fine with this? You scare me.”

“I scare you?”

“Yes! You do! You’re so good at pretending. How can I not be scared? You’re fine with everything and it’s killing me. I don’t know. I don’t know. How do I know- do I even know you?”

“What does that even mean?”

“How are you so good at this ‘pair’ thing? How are you so unbothered by it?” There was so much bitterness in her tone I almost thought she was talking about someone else. Not me. Not the person that was absolutely head over heels for her. “Kachi seriously, do you even like me?”

What the fuck. “Of course I-”

“Or do you just like this ‘pairing’ thing? Or maybe it’s not that. Do you like that you’re the only one I’m finally talking to? Is it like an ego thing you and your friends are doing? Some days ago I overheard your friends talking about those JSS3 girls that were deboarded. They said you said lesbians were weird? And funny. They were funny. Wow. I had no idea I was a joke. Have I been fun? Have I been fun enough that you can overlook the disturbing parts?”

I was speechless. There were too many things said in her rant that caught me off guard. I didn’t even know where to start. Where the fuck was all this even coming from? I really couldn’t think properly. What bothered me most was knowing she knew about what I said months ago. It was just a regular day. I was gisting with my friends and those girls came up. The usual insults and disgusted comments came. And I couldn’t bring myself to join them. Not when I just discovered my own feelings for Dinma. But I also couldn’t bring myself to shut them down. Not when I just got abandoned by her too. I didn’t want to also my friends.

So I said things that my conscience and my friend group could accept.

Dinma was looking at me like she saw right through me. Right through my ‘pretense’.

It pissed me off.

What did she know? How could she just conclude I wasn’t a lesbian too cause I said and acted in a way that would keep me physically and emotionally safe? I could lose everything. My rep, my friends, my family.

‘Don’t cause trouble for me, Kachi’

What was I going to do if I got deboarded for lesbianism? What was I supposed to tell my mother? How was I going to face her?

“If I was playing a joke, I would’ve picked someone easier to handle to be very honest.”

Dinma flinched.

Years later, her expression at that moment would still haunt me.

My heart sunk.

Shit.

“I didn’t mean that.” My words came out rushed. Frantic. Desperate. “Dee, I’m sorry I don’t know why I said that.”

But I did, didn’t I?

Everyone called her problematic and picky. They said that’s why she didn’t keep friends around. They nitpicked everything about her. Her appearance, grades, countenance. Never negatively but with praise that was meant to be backhanded. And to a stranger it would seem she didn’t care about it. But I was the only one that knew how much it bothered her. Cause I was the only one she was comfortable enough to show her vulnerability. I knew she had trust issues. She had a list of friends that only stuck by her because of money. It went as far back as primary school where her closest friend confessed in guilt during graduation that her dad paid her to play with her from primary 3 till 6.

“I don’t actually- It was out of- That was so stupid to say.” I was stuttering in fear. Terrified. Terrified by the fact I couldn’t undo the last 20 seconds. “I was just angry and said whatever came to my head. Dinma please. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”.

I moved to the adjacent wall, reaching for her. To hold her hand. To make some kind of physical connection now that I did irreversible damage to the emotional one.

She avoided the touch.

Dinma didn’t want me to touch her.

I seriously fucked up.

“Can you leave me alone for a while?“ Her voice was low, eyes red. But she didn’t cry. She never cried. “I need to think.”

“Okay.” I nodded slowly, my speech tentative. I needed to stay calm. Stay calm. I can fix this. Don’t panic. I just need to be calm. “Okay. When can I come back to you?”

When will you take me back?

She was already packing her things. “Just…let me be for now.”

“But-”

“Please.” There was a finality in her tone. She was backing me. I couldn’t see her expression. I couldn’t see anything. “If you ever cared about me just leave me alone for now.”

“...Okay.”

…

WAEC was officially over. NECO started immediately after but our school let us host an SS3 dinner night to celebrate. The excitement in the room was so contagious, the rest of the hostel seemed to be in a good mood. My roommates took turns presenting the clothes and makeup and shoes they managed to sneak in for the occasion. Everyone was having fun.

I was on my bed looking at the beige wall with cracks.

Someone called my name.

For the billionth time this week, I ignored them.

It’s been 5 days since my fight with Dinma. As promised, I didn’t bother her. I didn’t go to her class. Or find her after dining. Or walk her to her hostel.

I kept waiting. Patiently. I’ve been so patient.

But it was killing me. The way I handled things. The way Dinma looked right before she left. A lot of people have approached me since then. Everyone wanted to play mediator. It was another fun thing. Fixing a ‘lovers spat’. But after multiple dry responses from me, they gave up. They had no new material for gist so I was mostly ignored in my sulking.

During my self made isolation, I kept thinking back on the conversation. Every time I replayed it, I felt worse. I keep asking myself these two questions. How and Why?

How did I not notice her insecurities all this time? It was so obvious now. Even as early as when we just started talking to each other. She didn’t like how comfortable I was with my friend groups. The way I followed them to joke about everything and nothing.

Why would she? These were the same people that spoke about her with spite. And I still let them hang around me. Sure when we paired up they stopped talking like that. But still. It’s not like the damage done before would just vanish.

Why didn’t I just listen to what she said that day before I said that awful thing? For so long she’d been battling the fear she was alone in the relationship. That I didn’t like her the same way she did. That she was just gist for me and my ‘friends’. Why didn’t I just give her what she needed the most? Why didn’t I just reassure her?

How did I keep this group of people around me for so long? Did I even like them? I especially gisted with them more often this final period of SS3 since Becky had ended up in a new friend group of 3. We did talk but it wasn’t really frequent. Her friends were church excos so it allowed her to participate more in church activities like she always wanted. I was never over religious like her so I guess that’s why she fit perfectly into the friend group. I guess I didn’t want to bother her too much so I passed time more with these groups of people.

“Kachi, are you awake?”

Speaking of the devil, Becky poked her head under the bunk to check my eyes.

“Leave me alone.”

“Ms Beatrice wants to see us.”

“...Oh.” I sighed and pulled myself up. “What does she want?”

“The A block store” Becky explained once we stepped out of the room. “We need to find the crown and sash for dinner night award.”

Couldn’t she do it herself? Regardless, I followed along. I was already up might as well move around. A-block store was the largest store in the hostel. It even hard a bench. Once we ere in, Becky locked the door with a key.

I sent her an annoyed look. I wasn’t in the mood for her pranks right now. She ignored my stare and sat down, patting the spot besides her. I sighed again and went to sit.

“What is it?”

“Kachi, what’s wrong?”

My shoulders stiffened. “I’m just not in the mood that’s all.”

“You’ve not been in the mood for five days?”

“What? Is there a time limit for these things?”

My defensive tone made her roll her eyes. “I’m not here to fight with you, guy.” Without much tact, she cut to the chase. “It’s because you and Dinma fought, isn’t it?”

“...”

“There’s nothing that can’t be fixed between friends. Why not just talk? Why keep malice? You’re not that kind of person.”

I’m not keeping malice, she just isn’t letting me talk to her.

I sighed. I probably looked childish right now. “It’s not that simple, Becky.”

“Ehn. Can you remember when we fought in JSS2? They even had to separate us cause we looked like we would actually get physical. But did we not resolve the issue the next day? It looked so serioud back then but I don’t even recall what the fight was about. That’s how friendship works. Whatever the problem is, it can be fixed. The issue can’t be that deep right?” I felt Becky’s eyes on me. The next sentence was said a bit slower. “It’s not like it’s an actual lovers spat. Right?”

I was quiet. Tiny tremors were visible on my hands. From the corner of my eye, I noted the stiffness in her smile.

“Kachi.” There was a denial in her voice that I heard in my own head repeatedly at some point 2 months ago. “It’s just a pairing. If she’s annoying you that much, you can just stop. It’s not like an actual breakup so it’s not that deep. You can get over it. It’s not serious. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not like you like her like that.”

I didn’t respond.

Becky’s voice was insistent. “Right, Kachi?”

“Yeah” My head was under water, I could barely hear my own voice. A tear escaped but I smiled. “You’re right”

It was quiet in the storeroom. I hear Becky shift away. She wasn’t facing me anymore. I didn’t turn to see her expression. I didn’t want to see it.

Couldn’t bear to see it.

She was my best friend of 6 years.

And the most religious person I was close to.

We sat there in silence for the next 20 minutes.

“What are you wearing for dinner night?”

I blinked. Was this how she was going to play it? Feigning ignorance? It took me a while to find my voice again. “My pyjamas.”

“You’re not going?“

My bottom lip cracked as a derisive grin covered my face. “Who would I go with?”

Another bout of silence.

The was a jingle then a cold weight on my palm. I looked down dumbly at the keys in my hand.

“There won’t be Sunday morning service because of Saturday dinner night so the chapel will remain locked. These are the keys to the anterior rooms.” She inhaled deeply and breathed out like a heavy weight was passing through. “There’s some candles left over from last week’s mass. There’s also packs of flowers for next month SS3 send off service. There won’t be roll calls Saturday night because of the event. If there is, I’ll cover for you. I heard pink house don’t do roll calls at all. Right?”

Shocked, I finally looked at her. But she didn’t look back and instead rose to unlock the door. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t catch up with what was happening. Becky had a foot out the door before she spoke.

“Onyekachi.”

“Yes?”

“You know you’re my best friend no matter what, right?”

My lips quivered. Something in me twisted and loosened. Again and again. My chest hurt. But not entirely in a bad way. When the tears fell, they weren’t from pain either.

“You’re my best friend too.”

Hearing my quiet sniffs, Becky sighed in pity. “Just makeup with her already. It’s embarrassing seeing you lovesick like this. Where did my rude, stubborn house captain go?”

I let out a watery laugh, wiping my tears. “She took a break I guess.”

“Tell her it’s time she returned. And don’t worry about getting your…girlfriend to come. I’m working on that with Tola.” She finally turned. Her eyes were clear, without any worry. She spoke confidently. “Leave everything to me.”

I smiled.

“Thank you.”

TALES FROM ‘19 CATALOGUE

I was fine.

Everything was fine.

Dinma was ignoring me.

I didn’t care.

I was focused on my exams anyways.

She didn’t look at me anymore.

I had back to back exams of physics, biology, chemistry, geography and further maths. I was too busy to bother about irrelevant issues. This was the biggest exam that would define the trajectory of my life.

She didn’t even react when she saw the new archie comic I placed under her pillow.

Biology practical went well. My friends and I celebrated by raiding blue house and seizing contraband from JSS3 girls. So many spoils from that night. It was fun.

She wasn’t even my friend. Just a stranger. It didn’t matter.

Physics went okay. Could’ve done better to be honest. Becky asked me what was wrong yesterday. I laughed at her. Why was she projecting because she didn’t do well in the physics objectives? Funny girl.

This further maths textbook feels heavier than usual.

I talked to her like what? 3 times? It wasn’t that deep. Move on.

Tomorrow is Further Maths exam. I planned to do TDB. I really want to ace this. It was much more entertaining than regular maths. I’m not going to sleep tonight.

I dreamt of her.

Dreamt that we didn’t go to church that day and instead hid behind the dining hall to pick flowers. Dreamt the security man never interrupted us and we shared a lot of firsts together. Dreamt Ms Beatrice didn’t hear the noise so we talked and got to know each other more in the closet. Dreamt that Becky never came in at that moment of our first meeting so we could-

Could what?

I couldn’t remember.

It was Friday. Two more days and it’d be a full month since Dinma stopped talking to me. My eyes felt dry as I stared blankly at my exam paper. Integration and differentiation had never looked so foreign.

After the exam, I went back to class and sat in the empty space for a while. Everyone was in hostel. Science students finally got a break after weeks of hellish exams. The next two weeks were completely free for us

Yay.

I held my WAEC question paper in one hand while the other flipped through my FM textbooks.

I think I bombed this exam.

I didn’t want an F. I hated failing. I hated failing so much. I read so hard for this subject I swear I did. I could barely eat. Because I was reading so much. I was so weak. Because I was reading so much. I wanted to close my eyes and not open them again. Because I was reading so much. I’ve been miserable.

I miss her so much.

The scent of her perfume suddenly plagued my senses.

Great, now I’m hallucinating.

Someone sat beside me.

“Are you okay?”

This couldn’t be real.

I turned to face the newcomer, hand pausing mid flip. My fingers gripped the page too hard. The paper of symbols ripped and the sound cut through me like a blade.

Almond eyes.

Those beautiful eyes were finally looking at me.

It hurt.

This relief was more painful than comforting.

I hated her.

I hated her so much.

“Why are you here, Dinma?” There was so much bitterness in my voice, it didn’t sound like me.

Sadness, guilt, worry. I could see them all in her expression. She let me see them now. I hated that my heart twisted at the sight. I hate her. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care.

“I heard you didn’t finish the paper.”

“Who told you that?”

“Your friends were talking about it in hostel. That you looked sad.” Her voice was so quiet, so repentant. I didn’t want to be forgiving. “You never look sad.”

My breath caught when she took my hands in hers. I started shaking my head. Shaking and looking away. No. No. You can’t do this to me. Can’t make me so miserable for weeks and just come back like nothing happened. With no explanation. Go away. Why did you ignore me? Was what I did so wrong? I hate you. It was so lonely without you. I missed you. You just tossed me away without a thought now you’re holding my hand and my heart hurts and-

My lips were covered by another pair.

Hers.

Dinma’s mouth was soft, tentative. She was there for only a few seconds before pulling away.

She asked, “Can I kiss you again?”

Tears spilled out of my tired eyes. The dam finally broke.

“Please.”

She was kissing me again.

This time much more deeper. I was crying. Drawing tiny breaths as I sobbed. Everytime my mouth opened to breathe in a hiccup, her tongue followed the intake. Everytime I exhaled a shudder, she swallowed the breath too like I was her only source of oxygen. The back of my neck was held in a cradle so gentle it seemed I would shatter at this moment if she let go. My back was against the wall and I clung onto her waist, desperate to avoid falling off the cliff that were my heightened emotions. We were in each other’s face like we’d been starving for decades.

Maybe we were.

Nobody interrupted us this time. My tongue was sucked on as saliva and tears mixed into my taste buds, blending with her perfume. I’ve never been high before but this must’ve been what it felt like. We weren’t exactly experts in this area so it took a while to be coordinated in this art of loving with our mouths. My lips were numb, eyes dehydrated but I couldn’t stop drinking her in. I’d been in her drought too long, I didn’t want her rain to ever end.

The evening dining bell rang loudly from upblock, travelling in dull echoes across each class in SS3 block till it hit the last where we were.

We finally pulled away from each other.

It was dining time already?

How long were we at this??

Dinma was so gone it took a while for her to return to earth. “Oh. I left hostel in a rush. Um,” She wiped her wet and slightly swollen lips with the back of her hand. She was trembling again. “I need to go back to get something before they lock hostel. I also have prep class for Accounting exam tomorrow so I’ll be gone till 9. ”

She rose up shakily, gripping the edge of the table for support. I latched onto her hand before she turned away. She looked at me. It was a fragile gaze. As if whatever I said next could make or break her.

“Do you… do you want to wash together after prep?”

“Wash?”

“Uh yeah. Tomorrow’s inspection so not a lot of people will wash and we can have the lines free. In the morning I can drop them in clinic before they clear the lines...just so we can get a head start you know? I mean, after inspection now everyone will be washing and it’ll be hard to find space. This way immediately after inspection I can get the clothes and dry while you go for your exam- what do you think?”

I was rambling. I know sounded dumb. But I was scared. I didn’t want to let her go without a fixed plan on getting her back. What if she ignored me for another month after this?

“Okay.”

Air expelled from my lungs. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Dinma smiled at me. “I’ll see you later, Kachi.”

…

That night, we talked about everything and anything. In death series, our food preferences, past seniors we hated and why. Everything. It was well past 11 when we were done washing. The grounds were empty. Instead of going back to the room like normal people, we set our wrappers on the bare ground and laid down on it. We read the Archie comic I gifted her together. I held the torched and she flipped the pages. At some point the light attracted bugs so we put it off and started talking in the dark again, staring up at the half moon.

Our whispers and giggles were so loud in the quiet night but we didn’t really care. I even got up at some point to steal someone’s towel so we could use it to cover our legs. Mosquitoes were biting.

I learned Dinma liked to draw. She wanted to be an artist when she was done chasing a business career. It was why she read so much. So she could draw the characters.

She said she wanted to draw me. We scheduled a time when she was done with exams next week so she could work on the portrait. Dinma also liked to hoard. Well it was less a hobby more a habit. She had a bag of all her pencils from JSS1. JSS1!!. It was crazy and cute. What was even cuter was how she asked if I could give her something of mine so she could start her ‘Kachi Collection’

She wanted to start hoarding things related to me.

Too cute.

I think it was around 2am when we finally chose to go inside. We stumbled in, fighting giggles as we snuck back to our beds to make sure we didn’t wake anyone. I noted a body moving on Becky’s bunk.

I couldn’t tell if she was awake or not.

…

“Hi.”

It was Friday assembly. Dinma was writing Tie&Dye today. This was the last assembly before regular students resumed. The lines were scanty as it was only JSS3 and SS3 girls on the assembly ground. I was the tallest in my class so I was stuck at the back while most of my class friends were in the middle.

I’m not sure how but Dinma travelled from SS3C line to SS3F line. She had a mischievous grin on her face when she greeted me. It was contagious.

“Hi.” I said back.

“I don’t have a beret.”

My smile remained on my face despite being a little confused. “Em, I can clearly see it on your head though?”

Not wearing a beret during assembly granted you access to the premium treatment of kneeling down at the back of the assembly ground. Thereafter, the VIP experience extends to stacking all the chairs in the dining hall.

Dinma pulled off her beret, hid it in her uniform then walked passed me, whispering in my ear. “Looks like you don’t either.”

My beret was yanked off from my head.

I didn’t look back but I knew she went to kneel down, voluntarily starting her punishment.

My lips twitched.

Two minutes later, a teacher caught me and demanded I go kneel down at the back for not having my complete uniform.

I could barely hold my laugh till I got to the punishment area. Thank god this part of assembly ground was slightly shielded by the trees and the drums were loud as they sang the national anthem.

Because I laughed so hard tears fell out.

“I’m going to get back at you for this, Dee. I swear.”

“Yes, Onyi I’m sooo scared.” She rolled her eyes. She knew. Knew how easy I folded for her. Knew I had no self respect whatsoever.

I loved it.

I wanted to become more foolish for her. I didn’t care how it looked.

All I cared about was her.

…

“Guy, is Dinma your chick?”

It was the same day. After we were done stacking chairs, I went to class to waste away time while she went for her exam. I was playing WHOT with my former seatmate, Miracle.

My heart dropped to my stomach at the question but I feigned calm. “Why would you ask that?”

Miracle shrugged. “You guys are always together these days. You don’t even go to bathing ground with us anymore. You two do everything together. So people were guessing you paired up?” She placed a 5 cross. “Pick 3.”

I dropped a 5 triangle. “Blocked.”

“I’m just surprised- I don’t have,” She picked a card from market. “Surprised cause last term I even paired you with Semiyah from E class. You know she was looking for a bloke and you guys fit but you said no. ”

I tried not to tighten the hold on my card but the corners still creased. This thing of ‘pairing’ each other. It wasn’t a recent development. Infact my school mother paired me with her best friend’s school daughter when I was in JSS1. It didn’t work out though cause both school mothers had a falling out.

This connection. You couldn’t call it a friendship. Most of the time it was between strangers. It worked by putting a masculine set mate and a very feminine set mate together.

It was best described as a performance. Or atleast that’s how I interpreted it. Since there were no boys or phones, this was our only source of entertainment. Role playing real couples. But that’s where it ended. At make believe. It was fun, harmless, a ‘pastime’.

I didn’t like it.

No.

I hated it.

I couldn’t tell why before. All I knew was that I’d be sad in such a ‘pairing’. It’s not like most pairs were even close. All you had to do was just play your part and you can continue with your life. The bloke buys gifts for the chick and the chick fawns over the bloke. A straight romance played by two girls so we could dream a little for the life to come when we graduate to uni and meet and fall in love with real men.

That was the right way after all.

“Yeah.” I shrugged, not fully processing what I was saying. “She’s my chick. So what?”

Miracle’s eyes instantly lit up in triumph. She dropped her cards, overly excited. “Yes! Yes yes yes yes. I’ve been waiting for this day. I’ve been telling you, you’re the perfect bloke. Ahhhh I’m going to tell everybody. I must break the news first.”

My expression was stiff as I watched her run out the door and scream at the top of her lungs for the entire SS3 block to hear.

“EVERYBODY KACHI AND DINMA ARE TOGETHER!!!”

I looked down at her cards. If we kept playing, I would’ve won.

It felt like I just lost though.

Shit.

…

The shade from the giant tree in front of exam hall did nothing to calm my rapidly beating heart. My eyes scanned the area as commercial students spilled out of the building with their exam papers. I didn’t even answer the greetings from people I knew that just finished the exam. I was searching.

Searching for her.

I needed to explain myself before she heard anything from someone else.

The moment I caught sight of her, I launched myself off the tree, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to the secluded spot behind the building where only dead trees remained. It was so private someone could stand naked and nobody would see.

It was safe.

“Hey, what’s the problem why are you panicking-”

“I fucked up.” I let go of her and paced back and forth while she watched me in confusion. “I fucked up bad. Dinma I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. Fuck fuck I’m scared. Ah god what are we- what am I going to do? How do I fix this? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-”

“Hey hey hey” She grabbed my face in her hands that still had pen marks. “Breath. Baby. Breath.”

As shameful as it was to admit, the sudden pet name worked cause my anxiety transformed to fluster. Slowly, I started to calm down, taking time to focus on my breathing.

“Good.” Dinma sighed in relief. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“People think we’re paired now.”

“Paired?”

“Mmm. Like Bloke and Chick. Me and You.” I swallowed. “I was asked a question and felt put on the spot sorry I don’t know what I was thinking-”

“People think we’re together?”

“Yes. Sorry. I’ll fix-”

“Why…why are you apologizing?” She looked a bit disappointed. And scared. “Do you not like us paired? Would you… rather have someone else?”

“Of course not.” I blinked. “Of course not.” My eyes searched her expression. I couldn’t hide my surprise. “You’re okay with this?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not.” She looked away, a bit shy. “…I want more.”

“Oh.” Oh. I could be stupid and slow sometimes but thankfully, I caught on quickly this time. “Then,” I swallowed and took the hands cupping my face in mine, giving a clumsy smile. “Would you be my girlfriend, Chidinma?”

She beamed.

“Yes.”

…

Is it normal to be this happy?

Extension was over and school was fully in session. Dinma was back upblock and I was stuck downblock. We couldn’t see each other the moment we woke up or go to bathe together or attend morning dining together or wash together at night. With this new distance, our relationship should’ve fizzled out.

But it was the opposite. Because of the pairing, it wasn’t odd to stick to each other whenever we got to class. It wasn’t odd for me to walk her to dining even when I wasn’t eating. It wasn’t odd to spend prep in her class instead of mine.

It was such a perfect cover and medium.

I’ve never had a girlfriend before. Scratch that I’ve never dated before. Whenever my friends gisted about their boyfriends or crushes I just found it annoying. Why were they going crazy over some guy? I felt like everyone was just pretending so they can have something to be excited about. School could get very boring afterall.

I finally understand them now. Waking up knowing I was going to see my girlfriend in a few hours and we would waste away our time sharing a book in class, heads to the wooden table, whispering absolute nonsense seemed like heaven to me.

The more time I spent with her in class, in dining hall, in prep, I realized how wrong everyone was about her. She wasn’t quiet or reserved or proud. She talked. A lot. Animatedly when it was something she was excited about be it a story, her drawings or her 7 billion collections. She was playful. Teased and joked a lot. It was also very easy for her to smile. She was always smiling with me atleast. She did tend to have mood swings. I first thought it was regular period hormones but it happened even after. Like maybe two(?) times a week she got quieter and sensitive and complained about the littlest things. Could be the desk felt rougher than usual, or her hair didn’t feel right on her scalp or lizard on the wall made her nauseous.

I loved every side of her even the ones I couldn’t completely understand.

They were so precious. I wanted to drive along this undulating valley that was her persona until the fuel was exhausted. Even then, I’d just step out and use my legs to continue the journey. And I won’t die of exhaustion cause all the nutrients I needed came from her.

But in as much as I was enjoying the dating life, I had to exercise caution every now and then.

Dinma’s love language seemed to be physical touch. Where it was a want from me, it was a need for her. So whenever we were alone together, she’d kiss me senseless or cling to me like we were in the process of merging souls. I enjoyed this. She loved it.

The problem was when we were surrounded by others. I could notice her inner conflict, the effort it took to hold back. To run her hand through my hair instead of cupping my face. To brush her forehead on my neck instead of softly biting it. To hold my hands instead of my waist.

She was toeing a line. It was getting harder for the both of us to stay on the safe side. It was too easily to fall from entertaining to disgusting. From a play to reality. We couldn’t forget that we needed to stay actors not lesbians.

We didn’t dare.

“Kachi, don’t you think it’s somehow?”

I was in hostel with Precious watching SS1 girls weed the gutter area in boredom. She was punishing them for something. I couldn’t remember what. Neither could she.

Despite having a faint idea of the incoming topic, I asked breezily. “Mm? What is it?”

“The drawing thing.”

Yesterday was my 19^th birthday. As the most popular pairing, everyone was tuned in for what Dinma would get for me. Food was the most common gift between pairs. Chocolate, meatpie, anything really expensive to get. There was also clothes. A T-shirt, or contraband inner wear. It showed you went an extra mile to sneak something in. The peak of gift giving would be a teddy bear that came with the store bought letter. Add a plastic rose maybe. A standard generally accepted gift.

Dinma gave me a self portrait.

I knew she could draw but I didn’t know how good. And she never showed me her progress whenever she drew me. Finally seeing the completed work, seeing how she saw me. I looked…

Beautiful.

I never thought I could use that to describe myself but Dinma made it possible. It moved me. To tears.

While wiping my tears I couldn’t help but notice that after the initial cheer died out, onlookers had varied expressions on their face. None of them entirely supportive.

Confusion, Wariness, Disapproval.

It seemed we had broken an unspoken rule.

The gift had been too real. It wasn’t supposed to be that deep. This bond we presented to others. The goal was amusement. Nothing else. Why would someone go as far as to draw her fellow female setmate like that??

It didn’t help that as the ‘bloke’, I ended up crying. It caused a dissonance. I was supposed to be the stand-in for the man. Showing this kind of emotion seemed to remind them that I wasn’t this stoic male figure that they could project their fantasies on.

I was a girl. That was so loved by another girl.

And that, was unacceptable.

Within I was spiraling but outwardly, I asked with so much oblivion you’d think I was an arts student planning to study theatre arts in uni. “What happened to it?”

Precious searched my eyes. Whatever she saw made her shoulders relax. She smiled and shrugged. “Don’t worry I was overthinking things. By the way, how long have they been weeding that place?. I swear I’m sure nothing is even left to pull they’re just wasting time so I’ll not give them new work.”

“Abeg free those children, shey your sister is coming next year? They’ll deal with her o.”

“She needs it sef. That girl is very rude.”

We continued talking about random stuff. 80% of me was struggling with this paranoia within. How many people were suspicious like Precious? How many could I convince with pretense? When would we finally be caught?

Two weeks after my birthday however, I had a bigger problem.

Dinma and I had a fight.

TALES FROM ‘19 CATALOGUE

I stood behind Chidinma as she worked on unlocking all four padlocks on the iron burglary to the storeroom.

All this security on top broom and mop we bought with our own money. Nawa.

I met Chidinma by the staircase and in a mutter, explained I was supposed to help her out getting the cleaning supplies. She just nodded and kept walking.

She definitely hates me right now.

I decided to take the opportunity to clear the air. I don’t know. It was just a conversation I wanted to have but I found myself shutting the door behind me. The storeroom smelled musty. There was only one window and it was more like a closet than a storage room. It was a tight space and I felt claustrophobic but I really didn’t want to open the door.

It felt safer locked in.

Two hand towels hung on the tiny window rails, blocking sunlight from entering the room. I looked around with the limited light provided. Mops, brooms, parkers, rolls of detergent, all of it filled the space even brushing the roof. There were stacked so terribly on top each other too. Why were the brushes below the mopsticks? Who did this useless arrangement? Small thing and everything would scatter. I won’t put this half-asssed work past Precious and Miracle. Can they just do something right for once?

I hissed.

It was something I did whenever I was slightly annoyed. It was done without much thought. Not considering someone else was here. Someone who thought I hated her.

“That wasn’t…I was thinking of someone else. That wasn’t directed at you. Sorry.”

I couldn’t tell her reaction as it was too dark. She didn’t say anything but I felt the tension had worsened.

Fuck my caterpillar life.

There were tiny squeaks coming from a corner of the room. Something hairy brushed past my ankle. Chidinma probably felt it too cause she suddenly screamed and jumped.

Into me.

I got spooked- by the rat not her of course- and also jerked back. This caused the terribly piled supplies around us to wobble and fall forward. It was really just instinct, pushing Chidinma down while I hovered over her as everything crashed down on us. It felt like second nature.

A few brushes and mop heads fell on my back and something heavy and sharp struck my upper brow.

Everything happened under 3 seconds. It was so loud I feared everyone was rushing up to see the commotion. I glanced back. The door had been blocked by the collapsed mountain of supplies. I couldn’t even bother about the sting above my eye because of the shame for my current situation.

Becky was going to laugh at me till graduation.

Maybe I should just start a new life with Chidinma in this closet.

Speaking of. The light had returned as the hand towels were also dragged down- how was that even possible- so I dropped my head to finally see the person below. Chidinma was crouched, hands over her head in a protective position. She was trembling.

Shame was replaced with worry.

My hands were still plastered on the wall as I asked. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Let me see.”

I watched her relax at the sound of my voice and slowly drop her hands to look up at me.

Her undivided attention brought an unease to my entire being.

“Why are you looking at me like that- oh” My question was answered when a spot of blood dropped onto her cheek. The sadness in her eyes deepened. I’d never witnessed someone’s expression remain the same yet their eyes hold a different story. It made me want to keep reading. To become so immersed in the script I was the only one that understood it the best. The only one that would translate the words no matter the language they were written in.

Huh. I frowned. Where did that even come from?

“Why would you even do that?” There was so much frustration in her voice I thought someone else was talking. She was usually so soft spoken. “Why cover me? Don’t you hate me? You’re confusing me. Seriously.”

You’re confusing me too.

“I don’t hate you.” The guilt I felt right now was partly due to misunderstand, partly due to something I couldn’t identify yet.. “How could I? That other day. That day I misheard and I thought Rahina said that I like- I mean.” I’d been looking forward to clearing the air but now that I had the opportunity it was so fucking hard. “You just misunderstood that’s all. And I wanted to apologize for Monday. I didn’t intentionally block you. It’s just that you were- well I was…” The blood on her cheek rolled to the edge of her mouth. “Distracted.”

“Distracted?”

My eyes shot back up. “Ah yes! I had a lot on my mind. It’s other people that misunderstood. I’ll try my best to clear up the stupid rumors. I even told Tola about it before I came up here. Just forget it. You don’t need to take anyone’s words but mine. I should be the only-” What am I even saying? “I mean, please listen to me. I don’t hate you. Do you believe me?”

Maybe she saw the desperation in my eyes cause the sadness dissipated and she smiled a little.

She was so pretty when she smiled.

Well, she was always pretty.

“Thank you.” Her voice was calming. “And sorry about the bleeding. I’ll take you to sick bay after inspection if you want?”

“Yeah…” I swallowed. “Yeah okay. Yeah. Yes. Thanks. Thank you, Chidinma.”

“You can just call me Dinma.”

“Okay. I will. Thanks.”

Dinma laughed, subconsciously raising her hand to cover her grin. “What are you going to thank me for next? Breathing?”

I kind of feel grateful to you for that too at this moment.

Before I could open my mouth and disgrace myself even more, there was a knock on the door.

“What’s happening? I heard a noise from up here. Are you girls alright?”

Ms. Beatrice was here to save the day

…

“Chai, even our invalid captain did not escape beating. Assistant house mistress wicked sha.”

“I swear I thought she would free her atleast. Evil woman.”

“Kachi, you should’ve just pretended to faint so that Ms Audu will panic and think she has finally killed someone’s child.”

These were the sort of comments I received once I returned to my room after inspection which had gone terribly. All Block C’s fault actually. They have useless room workers. But let me not talk.

Anyways, as punishment we were all lashed behind the legs. Ten strokes. Fifteen for C block girls. I saw some of my classmates limping and crying to their rooms.

I pointed and laughed.

They swore to give me a concussion when when they recovered.

Heartwarming.

“Don’t use my name to slander Ms Audu. You’re on your own if she hears you.” I pressed the wet cloth Ms Beatrice gave me against my forehead. It reeked of iodine. Had a cooling effect though.

“Come, are you a masochist? How are you still standing with your head and legs like that? I de fear you sometimes guy.” Steph spoke from her bed. She was known for not handling pain well. The tear stains on her face were yet to fade yet she still joked. “Abi it’s like this for all igbo girls?”

“Na so.” Precious, Steph’s bestie spoke, swinging her legs while on Steph’s locker. “If it was like that, shey Chidnma will not be crying now?”

Dinma was crying?

My eyes fell to the end of the room where Dinma was lying down facing the wall. I’m not sure how but I was at her corner between my first breath and the next. Her corner mates- I didn’t even know their name- looked at me cautiously. I ignored them.

Despite the burning behind my legs, I squatted and leaned close so I could speak in a way only she could hear.

“Hey.”

I waited. Just when it seemed I was going to be completely ignored, she finally turned around. She seemed normal. No tear stains. Clear white eyes. Her jaw was a bit set though. Like she was fighting back the pain.

My voice was so soft it scared me. “Are you okay?” During the punishment, I had considered going over to her side to transfer beating- we were allowed to do that- but I was worried it would bring too much attention so I didn’t do it.

I regret that decision now.

“Does it hurt too much?”

Her eyes strayed to look behind me. I shifted to block onlookers from seeing her face. Only then did she reply.

“Just a bit.” She picked at her nails. “Sorry I said I would take you to clinic after this. I don’t think I can right now.”

“No no it’s fine. I’m fine. Perfect even.” I resisted the urge to stroke her hair in reassurance. “Do you want me to massage your legs for you? It’ll feel better after I do.” I caught her once again looking behind me. I made my voice even lower. “Not now. I… I can get the keys to the clinic and convince the nurse to let me stay over because of my injury. She’s chill with me. And I would need someone to also be there since I can’t be alone in that building. Will you…come to the clinic this night?”

Dinma’s eyes searched mine. Maybe she found the sincerity she was searching for because she nodded slowly and rewarded me with a smile.

“Sure. If it actually works.”

“I’ll make it work.”

“Okay.”

I couldn’t stop the giddy smile on my face. “Okay.”

Our moment was broken by a loud voice behind.

“Ahhh our enemies have made up. Everyone look at the beauty of experiencing a near death situation together. I'm moved. Come Precious lets get in that closet so we can resolve our differences once and for all.”

I gave Dinma a final smile before turning away.

“Shut up, Steph.”

…

This was a terrible idea.

I was outside the clinic, in the freezing cold hugging my arms to myself. It should be just a bit past ten. The area was quiet and desolate. The clinic was upblock afterall and the hostels here weren’t populated during extension.

I’d moved in to the clinic mid afternoon and Dinma showed up after evening dining. Once she picked a bed in the inner ward, I made some excuse of wanting to ‘visit friends’ before the hostel gate closed.

I only spent 30 minutes with them then proceeded to spend the next 2 hours hanging around clinic area, spiraling and regretting my decision.

Why exactly did I drag someone I could barely hold a conversation with to spend the night- to stay over in clinic with me?

It took me 15 sneezes and a cough to stop being a coward and go back inside.

“You’re back.” Dinma looked up from her novel. “I was wondering what happened. It’s so late.”

“Sorry. My friends held me back.”

Liar.

“Oh.” I couldn’t understand her expression but it didn’t look right. “You have a lot of them.”

“Yeah.” I nodded absentmindedly. Her nightgown was of silk and clung to her body like water. “They’re like little parasites. I hate them.” I picked my body oil from the bag I brought with me from hostel then got to my knees by her bedside. The tiles were cold yet comforting. “Can you lay on your stomach for me?”

I started from her toes. Cute. Soft. Warm. I could go on and on with the adjectives but my brain was too busy fighting back thoughts I wasn’t even sure its contents.

Tracing the thin veins along her feet, I thought about Good Friday and how Jesus washed the disciples feet. Something about spiritual cleansing and being a model leader right?

I didn’t feel very clean at this moment.

I reached her ankles and for a brief moment, encircled the area with my thumb and index finger. I imagined it as jewelry, an anklet that she never took off. Something she was proud to display.

There were 6 distinct lines across her lower legs. I didn’t care about corporal punishment. I grew up by the rod anyways. It only stopped once I entered SS1 and my dad finally died in his sleep.

But right now I hated it so much. Hate the administration. Hated Ms Audu. Hated C block room workers.

But aside the hate was a gratitude. It was because of this corporal punishment I got to be in the position I was now, having an excuse to spend time with her. It was selfish but I couldn’t be bothered right now.

My fingers pressed into those marks and I wished with all my might they could transfer and become a part of my fingerprints. Just so I could carry this moment with me as long as I lived. An emotional signature registered permanently on my physical.

Did everyone think this about someone they want to be friends with?

Probably not.

I exhaled shakily.

“Kachi? What’s wrong?”

That was the first time she called my name.

Everywhere was spinning.

“Nothing.” My voice was hoarse so I cleared my throat before continuing. My hands were on the back of her knees now. Above this was unmarred skin. The massage was limited to her lower legs. Yes. That was where the pain was. “How is it? Is it working?”

“Yeah. I…I feel good. You,” She pushed her head into the pillow and said, voice a bit muffled. “You can go higher if you want.”

So I did.

They were so tense. Her thighs. I had to take my time massaging every inch of skin until it relaxed under my callouses.

“Tell me when to stop.”

She didn’t say anything.

Even when I went past the point of being reasonable. We were both breathing heavy now. The quiet clinic a tightly closed chamber for our bubbling emotions that were on the cusp of some kind of epiphany. She didn’t stop me and I didn’t want her to. This wasn’t a massage anymore. This wasn’t what friends did.

This wasn’t normal.

I didn’t stop.

I watched her fist clench when my hand finally moved under her shorts.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

My body jerked away like the ground spat lava at me. I reached out to the wall, clumsily steadying my footing. The banging by the door didn’t stop. Scattered, confused and bothered, I scrambled away to answer the door.

It was the security man.

He was passing by and heard weird sounds and wondered what was going on. I explained I was in pain and was tending to my head wound. He also needed confirmation that I was permitted to stay in clinic overnight. So I gave him the nurse’s number to call.

Everything was resolved under 10 minutes. I stumbled back into the clinic after bidding the guard goodbye.

“...Dinma?”

No response. I dragged myself to her bed. Her eyes were shut, breathing regular. She must have slept off.

“Goodnight then.” I took the bed at the other end of the room. My hands were vibrating. It seemed I successfully transferred the marks to myself.

I still felt incomplete though.

Squashing the unease that started to creep in, I forced myself to sleep.

The next morning, Dinma was gone.

…

Sunday service began a few hours after I woke up. Maybe Dinma left early to prepare for mass because she was already seated in the first rows when I got there. I rushed to take the empty seat beside her.

I didn’t get to talk to her cause I came late and the mass was already in session.

There was a major announcement during homily. Two girls in JSS3 had been expelled. Well since they were writing junior WAEC, they were deboarded to be more accurate.

They were deboarded because they were caught having sex.

The greater half of the homily and final announcements centered on preaching against homosexuality and instilling the promise of a deserving punishment for people like those two girls. Both on Heaven and on Earth.

For people like them.

For people like them.

For people like…me.

I tried to get Dinma’s attention during these two hours. But she never looked my way. Never broke her neutral expression. Never smiled at me like she used to.

And for the next four weeks, Dinma completely ignored me.

I made a show of pursing my lips and thinking hard. Finally, I shrugged and took the box handle from her. “I’ll see what I can do, Madam.”

“Foolish girl.” She wanted to pat my head but I avoided expertly, not wanting this my not so low cut to get rough. “Oya take care. If you need anything, collect your guidance’s phone when he comes on Saturday for inspection okay?”

“Mmm.” I was already dragging my box away. I couldn’t help it. This was the second and last extension I’ll ever experience. All of our set mates sharing one hostel before school fully resumes. The excitement overpowered whatever home sickness I could’ve felt. “I will I will. Say hi to Ada for me.”

After exchanging final goodbyes with my mother, I rolled my box into green house, the hostel allocated for SS3 girls during extension. I was lowkey annoyed that JSS3 got blue house cause it would’ve been easier if I just went back to my own room.

Oh well.

Since it was only JSS3 and SS3 girls resuming for this first few weeks, the school was quiet. There were cracks along the walls of the hostel building. Of course no maintenance over the break. Hmm or maybe the cracks were always there? I’ll ask a greenhouse girl later.

The weed in the ground were wet from morning dew and were so high they stained my knee length white socks. Hope it’s not us they expect to plow these things away sha. Anyhow we’ll just use juniors.

I could hear the echo of my shoes as I stepped onto the veranda and looked around. Water dripped on the cement floor from the clothes hung from the railing of the second floor.

These pink house girls have brought this their bad habit downblock. Mtchew. I’m already irritated.

Praying all upblock girls stayed upstairs, I chose Room 3, ground floor. Across all hostels it was always the smallest. Only 12 bunks. For green house, it belonged to Block D. I don’t want headache this exam period so it’s the best option.

The room was empty. Relieved, I made my way to the last bunk, the one by the wall but belatedly realized it was already taken. Someone’s pink box was on the bare iron bottom bunk.

I didn’t recognize it so it wasn’t my fellow bluehouse mate that took the spot. Luckily, the opposite row’s wall bunk was still free so I took that instead. I got lost in my head, arranging my things when I suddenly heard footsteps in the room.

These steps were gentle, light, and practiced. Like precious stones skidding the surface of a still river yet leaving behind no ripples.

Curious, I looked up.

And found myself inhaling deeply.

During the break, I went to an art exhibit with my mum and sister for her birthday. The paintings were super expensive so even though I wanted one, I couldn’t bring myself to ask. So I let it go. But at this moment it felt like one of those painting had followed me back to school. Like my wishes were answered by some god and the art I craved materialized in human form to find me.

I quickly snapped out of it though. This was just another girl like me. But this girl had a beauty that seemed to belong in museums. Something that can only be appreciated from far as it was beyond general understanding of commoners.

Her eyes reminded me of our house cat except the color was almond. Her afro was full and high with the perfect round shape it almost looked fake. She wore Jean bumshorts and a black tanktop that sat on her curves so well it was like the clothes were made with her exact measurements in mind.

“H-how far?” I finally managed a greeting.

The girl gave a small smile and nodded. Her voice was barely audible. “I’m good”

She went to the bunk with the pink box.

I looked away quickly when her back stopped facing me. I knew who she was. There was no way I wouldn’t. She was in a different class and different hostel but Chidinma Nadi’s face was very easy to identify. She was as popular as she was mysterious. The former for her beauty and grades. The latter for her reclusive personality. She was best described as a loner.

I spent 6 years in this school and it was the first time I got to see her so up close.

My face was hot for some reason.

I don’t know why but I couldn’t keep arranging. The room was quiet, save for the sound of Chidinma’s hands ruffling through her box. Too quiet that the thoughts in my head was about to have some volume.

I didn’t want to hear it.

I sprang up and found myself by her corner. I was going to borrow a cup. I was hungry. Yes. That’s why I was here.

Idiot.

That’s such a stupid reason. I had my own cup. Everyone would have a new cup on resumption. It’s literally right on my locker. But I’m already here. Do I turn back or-

Chidinma looked up at me in slight confusion.

God, if you’re watching, please strike me down right now. I'm ready to meet you.

It seemed God was in my favour. My eye quickly caught a novel besides Chidinma’s pillow. ‘Vengeance in death.’

All my nervousness evaporated.

“Omg, you know the in death series???”

Chidinma blinked, then a smile slowly adorned her already blessed face. “Yes. I started reading it over the holiday”

“I’ve been reading since last year. I found half of Betrayal in death in JSS2 box room when I was a room head. Then went home to start reading it on LightNovels. You know that app? Anyways,” Excited, I leaned on the bunk she was at, grinning widely. “I’m obsessed with Eve. She’s so cool. Who’s your favourite character?”

“Peabody. And Ian too. They’re such a good couple. I want- would like something like that.”

“Real” I dragged the last syllables while I pointed to the book. “Can I read after you please? I promise I won’t damage it.”

“...Sure. Just give it back to me after you’re done.”

“Yeah yeah I know how people are with novels. I’ll hide and read it sef. Let nobody disturb me. Wait how did you even sneak that in?”

Novels, like many other things was contraband in this school since the new principal came along.

“The same way I sneaked in my innerwear. Having it on my body” Her hands went behind as she leaned back. My eyes automatically went down to her jeans shorts. Then her dark thighs. There was no gap between them. I looked away. “Well not on my body exactly. I had a bag on me that I didn’t drop during check in. That’s how I usually bring things in”

“Same.” Still wearing my uniform, I casually pulled up my skirt. “I’m wearing like 5 boxers right now”

She blinked slowly at the view, laughed lightly then looked away. “See the lengths we’re going to not wear shimmies”

I made a disgusted face. “I rather walk around naked they’re so ugly.” Not only did they require us to wear inner wear that looked more like waste bags, they required them to be in black and white only. Did I look like I came back to mourn?

This new administration was so ridiculous. Their logic was that was an all girls’ should focus on preserving the students ‘purity’ and keeping us ‘humble’ to protect us from worldliness. Whatever that meant. Their approach was to make us as unflattering as possible. We could only do boring hairstyles, boring clothes, no powder, no lipgloss, no perfumes, no mirrors. All this to avoid ‘distracting’ the male teachers.

Even push up bras were prohibited.

Speaking of, Chidinma wore one now. It was pink and peaked out from the top of the tanktop. I felt weird. Maybe it was jealousy? Though I’m not sure why I’d be jealous. I was wearing a binder- also contraband but na them sabi. One security man was even eyeing me cause something didn’t look right. I eyed him back. What? What proof did he have? Was he going to harass me for being flat? He didn’t want to risk it so he minded his business. Plus I have a lean build so it’s not far-fetched that that’s how my body normally looks.

My eyes were still on her chest as my thoughts drifted. Chidinma must’ve thought i was curious about the bra cause she said, “I was only able to sneak one in. Unfortunately I can’t wear more than one. That would be too obvious.”

My eyes went back up to her face and I forced a laugh. “You should’ve tried. Who knows assistant house mistress and her 4 eyes may not have noticed.”

“Sure” She rolled her eyes. I felt something churn in my stomach. “So, is it good?”

“...What?”

“Like the bra. Does it look good? I had to pick between this and a cheetah print. I’m worried I picked the wrong one.”

Before I could stop her, she mirrored what I did some minutes ago by pulling up her tanktop so I could have a better view.

“What do you think?”

Holy shit.

She pointed at the bubblegum pink bow that sat between her-oh god- at the center of her chest. “This was what made me pick it to be honest. Why do you look like that? It’s not fine?”

“It’s uh- it’s good. Really good. So good.”

“That’s a relief. Honestly felt like the other one wasn’t even original. This material is a better quality. I’m going to have to wash it a lot since it’s the only pushup I have. Do you want to feel it?”

“What?”

Chidinma looked at me weird but there was still an excitement in her face. The kind when someone’s talking about something they liked or were proud of. Like when we were discussing the book series. I didn’t want to dim that light so I nodded.

“Uh...sure”

In the mostly empty Room3, I had one hand on the bunk while I bent and lightly cupped Chidinma’s left boob, thumb tracing the outline where iron was installed under the bra. She was right. It had good quality. She most likely got it from those expensive boutiques I avoid when I go shopping.

My other fingers were on her skin. I tried my best to ignore how soft this part of her I was holding was.

Don’t think about it.

How full.

Don’t think about it.

How warm.

Don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t-

My hand flexed and applied a light pressure.

Hearing her surprised gasp, my eyes darted up to meet hers. They were wide just like mine. Just as confused.

Just as scared.

“Onyekachi!!!! I heard you’re in this room? Where art thou?? Come welcome your bestieeee.”

At the sound of another’s voice, we both sprung away from each other like we suspected the other to have some deadly contagious instant death disease.

I spun to face the new addition to Room3, quickly wiping my prior expression and replacing it with a playful one.

“Can you not shout every time? Why can’t you be normal? Why did you even come to this room now I won’t find my peace again. Go away.”

“Like you didn’t miss me. I know you were crying before I came cause you were sooo lonely and confused, you know you don’t have sense most of the time, I have to guide you.” My best friend Becky, took me in a big hug despite the rubbish she was saying. We spun ourselves around like kids. It was our thing. To shut our eyes and become a windmill until we slowed down from dizziness and fell to the ground. As our windmill weakened, Becky called out.

“Oh hi Dinma! I love your bra.”

I blinked my eyes open as the windmill slowed. I was now facing Chidinma. She still had her top up. Her eyes were on me as she replied to Becky.

“Thanks. I like it too.”

We collapsed to the floor, dizzy and tired from our stupid play.

I stared up at the rotating ceiling fan.

My heart was beating too fast.

Must be from the hug.

...

“Just see the state your bed is in, Kachi. Aren’t you ashamed?”

“You mind that one? If you leave her she can sleep on the ground.”

“How did they even dash her house Captain?. Mary you’re in blue house tell us the truth, did this girl actually do her job? She didn’t right?”

“Shut up.” I lightly smacked the back of Rahina’s head since my head was on her lap and she was close enough. “I know a redhouse girls isn’t talking right now. Abi you’ve forgotten which house ranked overall last in inspection for 2^nd term.”

All 5 of them burst out laughing and turned their attention to mocking Rahina instead. I chipped in some insults every now and then.

It’d been a week but the excitement of having all SS3 girls in the same hostel had yet to die out. It was also fun switching between hostel based friend groups and class based friend group. Today, a mix of my class friends and hostel friends were hanging out in my corner.

The conversation geared towards the direction of random setmates we didn’t talk to but were slowly getting to know because of extension.

Chidinma became the topic.

Two other people joined in.

My entire body felt as heavy as lead. Not because of what they were saying. It was the usual things. How Chidinma was proud and standoffish and looked down on everyone. How beautiful she was and probably why she was like that. How her hair would go passed her shoulders if she stretched it. How they heard she’s like super rich but her parents aren’t even politicians. How her head is always buried in a book and she’ll probably get straight As in WAEC.

The usual.

However it was different because she was right here. Well not here. She was on the opposite row. On her bed. Alone. Reading Vengeance In Death.

I was silent during this gist. Looking at her. She didn’t react. As if she was oblivious to being discussed like this. Maybe it wasn’t oblivion but resignation. She’d gotten too used to it.

“Kachi, you like her.”

My blood ran cold.

I wasn’t sure of the expression on my face but my voice was far from relaxed. “What did you just say?“

Steph, my seatmate in class repeated. “ I said you’re just like her. Like similar bathing habits.”

Bathing habits? What the fuck were they talking about? I recounted the conversation I was barely tuned in to.

It seemed they were talking about how Chidnma always used the bathroom instead of bathing ground. Even when it was empty and scary and there was no light. Another reason people felt she was too proud. Like using the bathing ground was beneath her.

It was so annoying. Why did people keep assuming things about this person?

Steph laughed at my expression. “You look so angry. Do you hate her that much you don’t even want to have similarities? Haba. You’re mean o. But you know how you act now. You also abandon us to stay at the back of bathing ground like a celebrity. Big woman. Our leader. Share funds.”

“No…” By the time my mind could catch up, I already spoke too late “I don’t hate- that’s not-”

But everyone had already moved on with the discussion, talking about the food for the evening and wondering what protein they’d give us.

It was like my tongue was nailed down. It didn’t move much after that. I stared at Chidinma’s bunk again.

Something twisted in my gut again.

I hope she hadn't been listening all this time.

Fuck.

…

“So what’s the beef between you and that Chidinma girl?”

Today was inspection. As an ex house captain, I had to work with other former house captains to make sure the hostel was ready. This question came from pink house captain, Tola.

“Eh?”

“I heard you guys were fighting. Sworn enemies actually. What? Did you try to be her friend and she snubbed you like the rest of us? Don’t take it to heart she’s like that. Just leave her alone.”

“Wait wait wait.” The fuck? “I’m not fighting with her though? Where did you eveb hear this from? And she isn’t like that. She’s very…friendly.”

“Dinma? Friendly? You don’t have to lie about her to prove you don’t hate her.” Tola shrugged. “You know how rumors are. I’m not even sure who I heard it from. You’re an easy going person so I knew it wasn’t true to be honest. So, you like her then?”

“I don’t-” I rubbed my temple with my soapy hand. This was stressing me out. “When did this rumor start abeg?”

“I think Monday? I heard on Tuesday that the day before, you were eyeing her before you left the room for assembly.”

My mind worked quickly. That was the first assembly since extension started. The thing about similarities happened on Saturday. I wanted to clear the air and explain what happened to Chidinma on Sunday but she was nowhere to be found. It was only Monday morning as I was stepping out we crossed paths. She was about to enter the room and I was blocking the way. Her hair was finally plaited.

I recall staring at her like an idiot because the hair made her features even sharper. And she was wearing her pink pushup bra under a white tantop this time. My eyes… I couldn’t stop it from straying down so I actively made an effort to keep my stare on her face.

I failed like 5 times.

It was only when I heard someone laugh and say ‘you guys are blocking the entrance, do you want to fight?’ that I finally sidestepped and let Chidinma pass.

Understanding the situation, I groaned and hit my head against the clothing rail we’d been leaning on. The surface was cold. Exactly what I needed. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“Not eyeing her?”

“I mean- I was but it wasn’t out of hate. It was-” It was what?

What the fuck was it like?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Anyways.” I straightened, noticing our house mistress heading our way. “It’s nothing like that. If you hear that lie again, tell them it’s not true.”

“Yes sir.” Tola did a mock salute before changing to a serious face and genuflecting to greet our house mistress, Ms Beatrice.

“Good morning, ma”

“Good morning ma.”

“How are you? Block D doesn’t have enough brooms and mops for varender and room work. Get it from the store and share for them. I’ve given the key to Block D supervisor. Go and assist her, Onyeka.”

“Block D suprvisor?” I hadn’t seen the work roster for today.

“Your set’s library prefect. What’s her name?” Ms Beatrice was already on her phone. “Chidinma? Yes. That’s it. Go now. We don’t have time.”

My mouth opened in protest but our house mistress was talking to the person on the call.

Tola laughed quietly then mouthed. “Be nice.”

Could the ground just swallow me already?

TALES FROM ‘19 CATALOGUE

Bee awoke in the graveyard behind Parting Hills estate. Her feet were covered with tiny scratches. Branches most likely. The skin around her mouth felt cakey from the dried blood and her eyes were sore from crying.

She wasn’t certain how she left Honey’s room. But it was the same way she came. She thinks. She was being chased, then tackled. There was a lot of blood after that. Wasn’t hers . She did have a broken bone on her good leg though. So at some point she was crawling. Crawling up? It seems she hid in a tree for a while? Swinging around with her one good hand.

Must be how she got to the center of the woods.

Her stomach had growled. She was so excited about the day she didn’t eat before the flight. No food or water for over a day, she was terribly thirsty. Thirsty and tired. Century old gravestones littered around her. The one directly beneath as dry as her throat. She wasn’t sure where she was. How to find her way out of here.

Did she want to?

Where would she go?

Adrenaline had died out and what was left was sorrow and solitude. Both her legs were injured so she had to crawl. Crawl on the dry red leaves. Crawl over the little pebbles in the sand. Crawl over dozens of gravestone until she found a bench facing an ancient style water fountain that had dried up. Atop this fountain was a stone sculpture of an angel. This angel had her head down in sadness and dissolution, its wings forming a perfect picture with the setting sun.

It was all too familiar. The solace that came with being surrounded by death.

The wind picked up. Tree leaves fluttered. Ghouls from beneath the ground were whispering. Begging. Pleading. For her to return. To come back. Couldn’t she see? At the end of it all, they were the only ones that could ever accept her. She had no place with the living.

So, she pulled out her cross shaped blade.

On this earth, nobody was waiting. There was nowhere to go back to. Nothing to her name. Nothing to look forward to.

She was nothing.

Her resolve solidified.

The blade extended forwards, its end pointing towards her jugular.

In the afterlife, she hoped she could find Honey. And apologize. All she wanted to do was make her happy. But she made her dead instead. She needed to apologize in person.

Her grip was steady, eyes resolute, breathing regular. Not a glimpse of hesitation could be seen on her expression.

A thin crack appeared on the angel’s face.

Bee’s lashes fluttered shut.

Maybe in another life.

With a final force, enough to break bone, she plunged the knife into her neck.

A short time passed.

Her eyes opened in a flurry of confusion.

The blade never made contact.

She looked down.

A white gloved hand was closed over the sharp metal, firmly holding it an inch away from her throat.

Bee’s dark brown eyes flashed upwards to meet a lonely, nearly black eye.

“Hello.”

She forgot how to breath.

“…Hi.“

Bee swallowed after the whisper of a reply, the motion causing her skin to slightly scrape the tip of the blade. There was a rush of blood through her veins at this moment. Her entire body was quickly burning up as if doused in rejuvenative flames. Her heart rate sped up too. It was fast.

So so fast.

“Mind letting go of this for me?” Rose spoke conversationally, using a light force to add a bit of distance between the blade and Bee’s skin.

Bee’s eyes darted back to the metal in the gloved hand. The patch of red was spreading over the white at an alarming rate.

Despite the sorry state of her legs, she jumped from the bench, letting go of the blade instantly.

“Oh- oh my god! Oh no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- Why would you- I didn’t know you’d- oh god,” She wasn’t this panicked even when she was being chased by guards. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry. It was a mistake. A-are you okay? I wasn’t- It’s my fault. I’m so sor-”

“Sit back down.”

Such a simple sentence yet it installed a daunting sense of urgency to anyone who heard it. Bee, who had never been one to follow orders, listened and sat put. Her posture was upright, folding her hands on her lap anxiously.

Rose circled the bench to sit beside her, maintaining a polite distance between the two. After placing the blade on the bench, she pulled out a bandage roll from the inside of her black coat and patiently wrapped her injured hand. The motion was slow, steady, experienced. Bee couldn’t help but sneak glances at her every 2 seconds.

The woman’s straight brown hair shielded her side profile. And she could only recall her piercing gaze. Curiosity churned in Bee’s stomach. Her hands gripped her thighs, a sudden inexplicable restlessness descending upon her.

After she was done tending to the wound, Rose looked up to meet the curious gaze. Caught, Bee quickly looked away with a tiny squeak. Her eyes were wide, fingers digging in harder to her skin. She felt she shouldn’t look too much at this stranger. Looking at her made her feel weird.

She still couldn’t breathe properly.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Bee wasn’t sure she wasn’t hallucinating. Maybe she was alone on this bench in this graveyard after all and these were just side effects from not eating for nearly two days.

So, she looked to make sure.

And was met with a gaze so ardent she couldn't help but bite down on her tongue to contain herself.

Breathe.

She exhaled shakily, extremely self conscious from being looked at so openly.

“What’s your name?”

“My name?” Bee’s found her voice hoarse. “…It’s Bee. No, Beth- no.” Sudden distress plagues her features. “Oh no.“

Her lips quivered. Just for a while, she’d forgotten the tragedy that was last night. Her canine pressed into her bottom lip to stabilize herself but her wide brown eyes were already glassy with tears. She glanced down at her hands covered in dried blood, sand and cuts.

The bandaged hand moved along the top of the bench, skirting just inches behind Bee’s neck. Rose found that it took a considerable amount of effort not to close that gap.

“You’ve done a lot of bad things, haven’t you?”

Bee’s head shot up. Fingernails broke through skin. Blood trickled down her thighs. “I,” Her voice was choked, repentant, desperate. “I killed Honey.” Tears finally broke free. “I killed my honey.”

She sobbed quietly. Guilt and regret seeped into that broken voice as she wept. Rose’s hand kept twitching but never made contact. Her chest rose and fell slowly, inexpressively watching Bee cry.

“Not that,” Rose spoke after a minute lightly glancing at the blood on Bee’s thighs. Her tongue rolled in mouth. “There are six other people dead. Prior and after Honey’s death. Because of you.”

“Oh” Bee sniffed. Her wet lashes fluttered as she blinked repeatedly, a sort of clarity returning. “That’s also true.”

That was it. No defense or a show of regret this time.

Rose shifted closer.

Just by a inch.

“They’re looking for you, you know.” She chatted about this topic like it was something as casual as the weather. “Three dead bodies found on Parting Highway in an abandoned ambulance. The hospital and airport company have been involved. So it was easy to identity the perpetrator.” There was a glint in her eye as she watched the realization dawn on Bee. “A dead celebrity, three other dead estate security guards. Due to the gruesome state some of the victims were found, the Violent Crimes department had to get involved. I believe there will be a press conference in a minute or two. Held in the Capital Central Circle.”

“Actions. Consequences. Law. Order. Crime. I know. I know. I was taught. I forgot. I forgot about that.” Her shoulders hunched over, knees raising to meet her chest. Her arms circled her legs as she rocked back and forth. “I don’t want to go.” Tears threatened to spill again. “I can’t do it. Not again. I don’t want to be locked in a room ever again. Please I can’t do that anymore.”

Rose’s gaze traced those glassy eyes, the redness of her nose, the wetness of her bottom lip, how her breath caught with every few words because she was fighting the urge to cry. The tinge of blood on her tongue.

Her hand twitched once more. This fight for self control was becoming a losing battle.

“I won’t let them.”

Bee visibly stilled at those words. “I won’t let them take you away, lock you up, restrict your freedom. I won’t let that happen.”

I won’t let them take you from me.

A bit of uncertainty crossed Bee’s features. Her legs dropped down again but she was still hunched over. She didn’t believe immediately. When something was too good to be true, the usual response was denial.

Expecting this, Rose pulled out a phone and dropped it in her trembling hands. “It should be starting now. Let’s watch it together, shall we?”

On the screen was the head of the CPD, Violent Crimes Unit, standing on the rising podium at the CCC. Thousands of lights flashed as reporters threw questions to the line of officers from below. The department head spoke in a sombre tone, addressing the apprehensive crowd gathered at the circle.

“Between the hours of 6pm and 12 am on the 13th of February, multiple heinous crimes were committed in sequence by one person. The total count of victims, seven. These murders happened along the YTA highway and Hills area. Investigation is currently ongoing and the suspect- female- has been identified. The murderer is on the loose and we beseech the general public for assistance in finding this offender.”

Bee’s breath hitched. They caught her. They really caught her. And they were going to drag her away and lock her up. Despair setting in, she started to look away. But Rose made a disapproving sound with the click of her tongue. It was like little invinsible strings latched to her joints, forcing her to look back at the screen.

“The suspect, of name Glore Danton, aged 25 was a flight attendant from YTA airlines. According to Flight 301’s Captain, an incident occurred in the plane that had left the suspect shaken up. The Captain requested the local EMT’s -who became eventual victims- to perform a check on her. The suspect was also captured on security cameras of Parting Hills breaking into a resident’s building and escaping there after. Footage images show the offender still wearing the attendant suit, long black hair used as a shield in an attempt to avoid being identified. She must've underestimated this department. Portraits of the suspect will be distributed across the media. Glore Danton is profiled, by the VCP as an extremely violent and volatile individual. Do not approach or confront if identified. Ensure to contact the support department as quickly as possible. I repeat. Do not approach.”

The phone dropped from Bee’s hand to her lap.

“We will not be taking any questions. Thank you. As always we live to serve and protect the people of…”

The man's voice droned on in the background.

“This…this isn’t,” Bee shook her head slowly, despair dissolving into confusion. “I don’t understand- Is this real?”

Instead of answering, Rose used her free hand to take the phone, leave the conference tab for an empty search bar and placed it back in Bee’s hand.

Bee looked up at her, lost.

Rose gave a short nod as if to say, ‘go on.’.

Her fingers moved slowly, typing keywords like ‘Feb 13th crimes’, ‘suspect on murder case’, ‘Police reports on CCC’. Her brown eyes devoured the results, scanning for anything that implicated her. Articles, pictures, eye witness accounts, crime scene reports. The material on the events of yesterday came in volumes. Perhaps because of the scale of the crime. Perhaps something else. Soon her fingers flew at a manic rate, searching and searching and searching.

Not a single mention of Bee.

All revolved around the flight attendant from yesterday that put her in that ambulance.

She replayed the press conference.

Reread the articles,

Reopened the images.

After what seemed like an eternity, Bee slowly shut the phone off and placed it back on her lap. Then looked at Rose. A Rose who had been so patient waiting for her to come to terms with everything. To come to terms with what had been done for her.

“Why?”

Bee’s eyes were searching, tracking Rose’s features as if expecting to spot a lie. Some deception in play. She couldn’t spot any. “Why me?”

“I’m your fan.”

It was such a simple answer. And it was spoken so naturally that Bee almost nodded and said ‘oh okay.’

“...Fan?”

“Mmm. I watched your stream. It was beautiful.” Her tone softened. “You were beautiful.”

“Oh. I- uh. Oh.” Bee stuttered. She wanted to raise a hand to cover her face. But Rose was looking at her so intensely. Like she wanted to- wanted to what? Bee couldn’t decipher. All she knew was that compliment and the way she was looked at made her feel weird. Hot. Her skin was hot. She dropped her hands. Scattered and flustered, she forced herself to focus on the matter at hand. “I don’t stream. Y-you must have the wrong person.”

“Helena Troy.”

Bee shoulders stiffened.

“Star name, ‘Honey’.” Despite Bee’s expression crumbling at the name, Rose continued. “I was monitoring her. For blackmail material, you see. Then you showed up. I watched it all.”

“And I think, ” Her hand finally clasped the back of Bee’s fragile neck. The skin vibrated under her grasp as Bee shuddered from the contact. “You’re much better in person. You can’t say the same for Honey, can you Bee?”

The mention of Honey. Of the disappointment that came with being let down, denied and rejected after years of longing. Of being treated with so much respite and disgust. It hurt. It hurt so bad. And that should be the priority. That painful feeling should be what was clouding her senses right now. It really should. But it wasn’t. It was the cold hand cupping the back of her neck. The long thin fingers pressing into her skin. The absolute ownership that emanated from that touch and the strange need that was triggered by it. The need to yield.

So when a tiny whimper broke out from her lips, a result from the overwhelming intensity that was always her emotions, she couldn’t tell if it was from grief or the other ‘thing’.

Rose’s eye gleamed, pleased by this reaction.

“I have a gift for you.”

The phone was placed in Bee’s hands again. A few taps later, a new video was shown on the screen.

No voices emerged from the phone. But the video played. And it wasn’t stopping. The longer it played, the less steady Bee’s breathing.

Two minutes into it, she spoke.

“This,” There was a wonder on her face that could not be hidden. “This is Honey.”

And Honey it was. Dressed in her signature outfit of a sailor. Her nearly white hair had also been retouched at the roots and styled perfectly. Her eyes were closed as if merely sleeping but she sat up straight, swaying to a sweet tune, albeit mechanically.

The video was on a popular streaming platform Honey uploaded on. But it was on private mode. It started a few hours ago. There was no ending timestamp.

This stream was titled ‘To my favourite fan, Bee. Love, Honey.“

“Sometimes, the real deal is best delivered via a barrier. Honey served you through the screen in life. So will she in death. You were her first and greatest subscriber after all, it’s only natural you’d be her last and only.”

Bee raised her head. At the start of the video, she seemed like a child who got her Christmas gift. Now, she appeared a non-believer who just discovered God.

The setting sun cast a golden glow on both of them.

“Do you like your present?”

A tear rolled down Bee’s left eye. Her lips broke into a breathtaking smile. The first smile since today. The first genuine smile since forever. A slight wind cause her hair to flutter in waves.

Just like her heart.

“I love it.”

She was so beautiful. So beautiful Rose didn’t dare look away even for a second. Leaning forward, she gently wiped the tear on Bee’s face with her thumb, whispering in a tone akin to reverence. “Then stop crying already.”

I’m the only one that can push you to tears now.

When the thumb left her face, Bee struggled with the a new sense of loss. “Can- can you- can I. Um.” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask. She knew she wanted more. More of something. But she couldn’t place the name. So, she asked an easier question. “Can I know your name?”

The hand cradling the back of her neck slowly retracted.

Bee went rigid.

No. No. I shouldn’t have asked. Why did I want more than I was given? Why did I ask that? I did wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I messed up. I messed it up again. I never do anything right-

“I don’t have one.”

The hand that left Bee’s neck was used to pull the monocle off her face. She folded it in her inner coat pocket, took a long deep breath then tentatively turned to Bee.

For the first time in years, another person was looking at her full face with no obstruction.

Seeing Bee’s dark eyes widen in surprise, she spoke succinctly. “The devil’s mark they called it.”.

Black.

Her left eye’s sclera was pitch black. Within was a rose shaped iris with budding petals that drifted in waves. Thorns embedded between those petals held tiny pinpricks that cut through the blood vessels of the eye, offering the blood as nutrients to sustain the 2d flower. Thus, the flower looked so healthy it seemed to breathe. It was so vivid, so stark, this design. Compared to her normal eye, it seemed much more alive.

“The local priest thought it was a bad omen to name the child with such a mark so I was referred to as The Rose.”

Rose watched in real time as Bee’s expression slowly morphed from amazement to unabashed awe.

“So- so pretty!” There were literal stars in Bee’s eyes. She couldn’t help but lean forward for a better view, too excited to notice how close she’d gotten to Rose’s face. “Like art. I- I like pretty things.”

I like you.

“Pretty...” Rose was a bit lost in thought. Lost in the face beaming at her with open delight. Lost in those dark brown twinkling eyes peering into what she’d kept hidden for so long. Lost under the warm breath falling on her mouth as Bee spoke.

She found her eye pretty.

Lost in the memories of a child born blind in her left eye due to some genetic mutation. Lost in the countless exorcism after exorcism. Lost in the hands pressing down that child as prayers danced over her head. The hands. The hands. The prayers. The fear. Casting out. Praying. Praying. Preying.

She found her eye pretty.

Lost in the fire. Lost in the smoke. Lost in the same hundred hands now charred and pleading. Begging. Bleeding. To be saved. They were lost now. In the rubble of that forgotten city. In the ashes of the sanctuary. Clinging to the pulpit to escape the blue flames. Scattered souls lost forever.

“Anyways.” The edge of Rose’s mouth twitched. “I got called Dr Rose as i grew older, Director more frequently now.”

“A doctor.” Bee nods, a bit dazed. “It suits you.”

“I’ve destroyed as many lives as I have saved.”

“So has God.“ The smile didn't quite reach her eyes this time. “And has he not been worshipped across many lifetimes for it?“

“God promised eventual eternal life and paradise.” Rose glanced up at the darkening sky. “I ensured unending suffering and untimely death. That incident on the plane.” Her finger twirled a lock of Bee’s hair. “It was my doing. Solue, Ekstasi, Candy. One eats the mind, another the body, the last the soul. All deliberate avoidable designs. Do you still find me akin to god?”

At the mention of Solue, Bee’s expression sharpened. Her tone was urgent. “You created that vaccine. You did that?”

“Mmm. Were you affected?” Even at this moment, not a sliver of remorse could be seen on her face. “Or were the people you cared about affected? Did the side effects get to them? Did one jump off a building? Did another suffocated their entire family in their sleep? Did another start a cult?”

“Yes- um no. I don't know about that. I did take it. But well…” Her hands folded over each other repeatedly, hesitation apparent in her eyes. Even her voice was tinier than usual.

“I have a confession.”

Rose’s head angled. A bit of intrigue. A bit of surprise.

“Speak.”

“The virus killed a great number of the convent. My convent I mean. It- it was home. I was, I was ‘sick’ so I had to stay there. Stillbirth. A stillborn. Or I should’ve been. Couldn’t detect a heartbeat. But…but I still cried out. So I was sick and only the convent would take me in. A rotting corpse. That’s what they said I smelt like. The other kids I mean. I couldn’t tell. I didn’t have any sense apart from sight. So I couldn’t tell. The convent didn’t have a lot of support you know. So sometimes we went hungry. I was hungry too. But normal food always tasted bad. So- so sometimes I snuck out. I snuck out after it rained, dug up holes and ate the worms from the soil. Better. That tasted better. Then the drought came. And I wasn’t priority so I was always thirsty. And…and the shed assigned to me was near the gutters so the rats littered around. And I was really thirsty. So…I drank the blood a little. Just a little. Really. Okay that’s a lie. It tasted better than water so…yeah. Worms. Mouse water. Worms. Mouse water. I guess I started smelling worse cause I got caught. I got caught. Then locked up. In the dog house. And it was scary. There weren’t any widows you know? Just the door. And it was in the yard behind the shed so I was really scared at night. I was let out two days later. I didn’t eat the worms or the mouse water again. But they said I did. So they locked me up some more. I swear. I swear I didn’t. But the rot smell was getting worse they said. So they said I did. And every isolation was worse than the last. I was sad. Sad and scared. Nobody believed me. Why did nobody believe me? I prayed and prayed and prayed. But god didn’t rescue me. God didn’t stop this disgusting stench on me so I could be freed. So I could be normal. God didn’t fix me. He wasn’t listening. Nobody was listening. ”

Giant tears spilled out from Bee’s eyes. She was sobbing again. Right after promising Rose she’d stop crying. As Bee clumsily used the heel of her hands to wipe at her tears, something stabbed dead center of Rose’ chest. A sort of heaviness pressed down her entire being in unending waves. While her condition incurred fear and Bee’s incurred disgust, they had something undeniably in common.

Isolation.

“A visiting priest heard about me and ordered the convent to have me buried in the church graveyard for a month for a ritual to cure my madness. The coffin was so small. So tiny. I could barely move. I couldn’t breath. I should’ve suffocated. But I didn’t. And I was so hungry so thirsty so lonely so scared. Alone. Alone. So I was a little angry. Just a little. So, I said some things I don’t really remember. In my head. Some bad things. To happen to the people that made me feel these bad things. Again and again and again. Until it burned a hole in my head and all the other good thoughts I once had leaked out of it. After the ritual, the priest left but never returned. Died of an illness they said. Months later, our members too began falling ill and dying. Every member had been somewhat affected. Everyone but me. A year later they said we needed to be vaccinated. After that… I didn’t smell again. There was no rot. I- I knew because I could smell. And the regular food started tasting good. And I felt the pain when an aunty pushed me down and my knee scrapped. And my heart…I felt my own heart beating. Alive. I was alive.”

“A resurrection of the dead. Like lazarus. That’s what the head nun had said. They said their prayers finally worked.” Bee raised her watery eyes to Rose. They were wide in fascination and something else. Something pervasive. “I prayed to a dead god for so long when I should’ve been praying to you.”

The Marks’ virus had been a cry for help from Bee.

Rose receieved this call across Colonies and created the remedy.

Their first form of communication was a curse that killed half of humanity and a blessing that damned the remaining half.

Rose extended her hand once more. This time, cupping the side of Bee’s face. Bee inhaled sharply, automatically leaning into that cold lifeless touch, looking up at Rose with a decade worth of desperation.

The moon hung clear in the dark sky, thousands of stars forming constellations around it. The crack across the stone angel spread wider, covering temple to jaw.

“If I could go back. To the start, I’d caste hell aside.” Rose’s voice was soft, repentant, regretful. “I would write letters of you, to you, for you. Daily. Unending.”

“Letters?” Bee’s damp lashes trembled. “For me?”

“Only you.”

I wrote letters to an impotent devil for so long when I should’ve been writing to you.

The next minute was spent without words. The graveyard was deathly silent. But a million and one words were exchanged between them. Two women sat by a bench, gazing at each other like there were the last people on earth, drinking in the other’s appearance like it was a sacred view only they could witness. Soaking in each other’s presence like just the other’s breath was enough nourishment to last two lifetimes.

At the end of that minute, their heart beat in sync.

“I want a second chance.” Bee whispered. “At living. Could you give me the gift of life again?”

“You want to be reborn, Bethany?”

“No. Not Bethany. Beth died in that grave 20 years ago. She got what she wanted. A curse that punished everyone that hurt her. Bethany is free. And Bee,” She pressed her face into Rose’ palm, looking up with a shy smile. “Bee is happy too. She got what she wanted. Bee has Honey forever. Bee is free. So,” She moved forward and pressed her forehead against Rose’s. The surface was so cold, she let out a shudder. “I would like to die now. Please, Rose.”

Rose pulled back to study Bee’s quirks. The way her dark brown eyes darted away once she was looked at for a little too long. The way her white teeth scrapped over her soft pink lips as she waited in trepidation for an answer. The way her breath hitched when Rose stopped cradling her face to tuck a lock of golden hair behind her ear.

These little things. She wanted to watch them forever.

“Don’t call me that.“ When she finally spoke, her tone was so tender it was almost ridiculous. “Not Rose.“

Bee’s eyes raised to meet hers again, cautious, questioning. “What do I call you then?“

“How about we name each other?“

“I…I can name you?”

“You must.” Rose paused to soak in the pleasure in those eyes before whispering. “Eve.”

“Eve?”

“Mmm.” Despite being so different, the two eyes held the same gentleness. One that had never been expressed before. “The first woman. What do you think?”

“Eve.” The name rolled off her tongue easily. A new beginning. “I-I like it.” Bee shifted close to Rose until their thighs were pressed together. She heard a sharp inhale besides her. “I really like it.”

I really like you.

“Then,” Bee throat bobbed as she swallowed. “May I call you Lilith?”

Rose raised a brow, a little surprised. “Lilith?”

“Yeah.” Bee smiled shyly. “It sounds a bit like lily-I like those more than roses. And Lilith was from the same place as Eve, wasn’t she?”

“Well,” A ghost of a smile crossed Rose’s lips. “You could say that. I like it too. But,” The thorns in Rose’s eye grew a bit thicker, forcing more blood to pool within. “You’re unsettled. What’s the matter?“

Once Bee started to show her usual signs of hesitation and discomfort, Rose took her face in both hands. Those hands that remained steady regardless of the situation. Steady during a critical moment in surgery, steady when force feeding poison to her own parents, steady when snapping a patient’s neck.

Those hands were trembling now.

“Talk to me, please?”

This forlorn plea had Bee exhaling shakily, a final exhaustion settling within. She let herself relax in the cold touch before meeting Rose’s tragically beautiful eyes.

“She’s scared.“ I’m scared. “Before the freedom, there was so much loneliness. She doesn’t want to be left behind again. Can we- can we keep a little piece of her? I don’t want Bee to be forgotten. As she never forgot Beth. I can’t let that happen.”

Rose’s eyes tracked the aching expression on Bee. She had a glimpse of what she wanted to do but still asked. “I understand. How do we keep her?”

Bee’s hot breath fell on the gloved hand as she angled her head and pushed down so Rose’s thumb pressed against her right eye.

“Beth was dipped in a basin of water and given her name. I would like to take mine in blood. Now.”

Rose was silent, fully taking in what her request meant.

“This will hurt you. Terribly.”

“You’d like that, won’t you?”

A knowing smile appeared on Bee’s face as she noted the marked eye dilate and the petals around slowly spin. “Bee always wanted to give the perfect gift. So she wrote letters. And sent money. And stole a heart. But nothing would come close to this, would it?”

“No.” Her breathing was heavy. Unsteady. “Nothing would.”

Bee’s eyes shined like the sun under the moonlight as she took Rose’s hand. The one that bled. And placed the blade back in her hand.

“Take this gift I offer. This communion. Take my body. Take my blood. Take my pain. Torture me.”

Love me.

Parting Hills graveyard, on this silent, unholy night housed a reincarnation of two souls under the moonlight.

Bee looked up at Rose. The grass beneath her would become a deathbed, a tomb and a womb. She shuddered under the gentle stroke of her cold fingers.

“Breathe.” Rose whispered, settling in her straddling position over Bee. Little stones pressed into her knees as she leaned down to peer into Bee’s eyes.

The stone angel watched a silhouette bend over the altar.

“I won’t stop till it’s done.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

Little fireflies chirped, illuminating the cross blade. Gloved fingers stained with a bit of red lightly pushed Bee’s eyelid open. Thin metal scraped over the red vein at the edge of the eyeball.

Rose dipped the knife in.

Bee gasped loudly, catching Rose’s arm tightly. Her entire body went stiff as the sharp, mind numbing pain of metal piercing through the delicate muscle of her eye socket hit.

“Shhh.” There was a dreamy look on Rose’s face. Like she’d gone far far away. With precise skill, she dug the blade deeper with a light curve. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

The grip on her arm lessened but the groans beneath grew louder. More strained. More desperate. More miserable. More tortured.

Sweat and tears covered the left side of Bee’s face, her eye rolling back from the overwhelming sensation. The right side was bathed in blood as her eyeball was slowly and carefully gutted out.

She was trembling. Shaking. The bottom of her shoes scrapped the dried leaves and her knees slowly dragged up. Her face was so hot. So hot. Something was being lit beneath her skin. And it was spreading. It was spreading down her body. She’d felt pain before but nothing like this. Nothing as invasive and as scary. It was once beyond her. This feeling. It’d been so far away but now it was forcing its way into her being, pulsing through her veins at a pace she could barely keep up with. Her thighs. They tensed up every time she felt the cold metal scrape against the bone within.

Her head was being split open.

And so were her legs.

This heat travelled down to her toes and up again, settling at the pit of her stomach. Then lower. Lower. Right in the middle.

Oh God.

She bit into her lip and suppressed a moan, her vision going white. Then red. Then black. Her wet lashes fluttered, back arching as the blade probed within. The muscles between her legs tightened and released with every motion from Rose’s fingers.

Lost in this sensation, Bee’s whimpers broke out to loud moans, hips violently bucking up against Rose as wetness pooled between her legs.

For an act so obscene, the sounds were just as depraved.

And Rose, The Maestro of this one woman orchestra, took it all in with a glazed look. Both eyes were fully blown out. The right completely dilated. The left had its thorns stretching out, nearly breaking out to actual skin. Feeling Bee writhe beneath her, watching her eye roll back in a confused ecstasy and hearing the degenerate sounds she unknowingly made.

Her mouth went dry.

Bee’s body emanated a heat that burned. Burned so deeply, it illuminated a soul Rose thought died years ago. Maybe it did. Perhaps a new one was being created at this moment just from Bee’s emotions.

If she hadn’t needed both hands for this procedure, she would’ve had one between Bee’s legs and heightened the tempo of this musical for the debauched.

With one final saw, the eye was completely gutted from the socket, free of its attachments.

The organ was about 25 millimetre in diameter. Only as heavy as the pebbles scattered around them. A white ball covered in blood and thick ruptured viens

A tiny red apple.

The dark brown iris seemed to gaze up at her in silent hope.

Don’t forget me.

I too want to witness a version of me capable of true happiness.

I want to be loved.

I want to be seen.

I want to be consumed.

Please, don't forget me okay?

The working bee had so much to give.

And the dying rose had so little essence left.

Who was she to deny the gift of this forbidden fruit?

Rose peeled her glove off to lightly caress the surface of the organ. Then, she wetted her lips and parted them, picking the eye with her clean fingers and pushing it into her mouth slowly. The split of her lips sucked in two fingers whose tips remained in contact with the eye.

Hers fluttered shut as she threw her head back.

It was too big. This apple. It would be best to cut it in half first. Consume a piece at a time. It would be more edible. More palatable. More appetizing. But she didn’t want to put Bee through what she’d put herself through for so many years.

She could choke during this. Suffocate and die right here. And that would be fine. It would mean she wasn’t deserving anyways.

So when her eyes shot open again and the moon reflected in the dual colored irises, her fingers pushed deeper into her mouth in resolution. She breathed through the slightly blocked opened as her throat relaxed and widened in preparation.

Deeper.

The top quarter of her throat bulged.

The upper knuckles disappeared in her mouth.

She couldn’t breath.

Deeper.

Bee’s eye scrapped against the soft moist tissues of Rose’s throat, tuning the vocal cords, producing a gasping stifled sound. The maestro, for a brief moment became the instrument.

Her eyes watered.

The fingers lost contact with the organ and was pulled out with a wet pop. Her throat muscles took over, tightening in a swallowing motion to push this too large of an object down. A gentle curve formed along her throat. Eve’s apple.

The angel’s face finally split, a piece of stone crashing to the ground softly, leaving a faceless carving behind.

Deeper.

Her eyes rolled back, bare slick fingers cupping that bulge.

One final, forceful push.

GULP.

Her chest rose and fell quickly, airway finally unblocked. Rose’s left eye subtly changed. The void darkness in her sclera that had stayed pitch black gradually receded into an ethereal white. The tiny red petals transformed into clear lemon white lilies. And finally, her thorns faded away.

Humanity had been restored within.

This human blinked and observed her surroundings. There was a sudden influx of colors. Swirling and dancing around with no direction until they spilled downwards onto the person beneath her. This person was still twitching. Only the white of their left eye could be seen and the other side had a gaping black hole.

The human peeled off her other bloody glove, leaned down and held her lover’s face in her hands.

“Come back. Come back to me.” She breathed life into her. “Come back to me, Eve.”

The capital clock chimed thrice.

With a sharp inhale and subtle upwards jerk, Eve’s left rolled back in place. Her iris darted around. Confused, lost, vulnerable.

“Lilith?” Her clothes stuck to her body for different reasons at different places making her shiver nonstop. Goosebumps covered her arms and legs. “Are you there?”

“Yes.” Lilith sighed, stroking Eve’s brow. “I’m here for you.”

With this reassurance, the aftershock dimmed, allowing Eve to see again. She blinked slowly, adjusting to her new form. Her hand subconsciously went up. Where her right eye should’ve been specifically.

Eve muttered something too low even Lilith couldn’t catch it. She turned a bit to the side after that.

This small action caused Lilith’s new heart to drop to the pits of her stomach.

“What was that?“ Her eyes tracked over Eve’s reluctant expression in open anxiety. What was the problem? What happened? Did she...did she not want her anymore?

“Am I...” Eve’s voice was tiny, hesitant, wounded. “Am I still pretty?” Her shoulders hunched inwards as if preparing for a rejection.

Oh. That was it. Relief washed over Lilith. “Yes. Yes, my beautiful angel. Perfect. You’re perfect.” She leaned towards her neck and breathed her in. “You smell perfect.” Her hand wandered down to stroke the center of Eve’s stomach. It quivered. “You feel perfect.” Her mouth dragged up to drop a light kiss on her bloody cheek bone. She slowly licked her lips, dehydrated. “You taste perfect, Eve.”

So good. So perfect. Like she was made just for her. Her water fountain after wandering the desert of the dead for so long.

Just a taste. Just a drop would be enough really.

So, Lilith placed another kiss on her cheek. And another. And another. These kisses migrated higher to the boundary of the gaping eye hole. She pushed herself forward. Dropping kisses around the circumference. The edges, brushing the temple, edge of her nose, eyebag. Iron coated her tongue. The skin under her palm grew hotter the more kisses she dealt.

Not enough.

Her tongue rolled out and dragged itself across the side of Eve’s face, leaving a new wetness behind. Saliva mixed with blood as she lapped over the skin, determined to completely wash her clean.

Eve who had just barely returned from subspace was gently guided back in. She wanted to suppress the moans again. She’d already embarrassed herself once. She could handle what was happening now. She could.

Then, the thick wet tongue lightly grazed the inner linings of her orbit.

She screamed.

This time, both hands reached out to latch onto Lilith’s sides, her legs kicking in a fervent buzz. The tongue dipped in again, this time with more eagerness and direction as if knowing the exact spot to tease to make her lose her senses.

Eve was gasping. Loud. Louder than before. And she had no control over her body. How it spasmed from every contact. How the nerves bunched up in anticipation and then released after the reward. Again and again. Something was building up as Lilith went down on her face. It made her insides twist in painful yet pleasurable little bows.

And when Lilith’s hand pressed harder down her stomach, entire tongue disappearing into her skull, she screamed a second time. This one coming with a sweet release after the tortuous buildup.

Her body finally went limp, moonlight brightening to reveal her inner thighs glistening in slick wetness.

Lilith, who had just eaten her fill, sighed in satisfaction, leaned down and brushed her lips over Eve’s in a finishing kiss.

It was a simple, short and sweet kiss. A chaste difference from what just happened.

Yet Eve stiffened a moment after that contact. And for the second time today, Lilith felt an unwelcome anxiety.

When she pulled back to look at Eve however, the feeling disrupted. Eve’s expression was scattered. In pleasure. In confusion. In shyness.

She was flustered.

Barely able to contain her surprise, Eve stumbled over her words. “Don't mind my reaction. I- that was- um. It’s just that I didn’t expect- didn’t see it coming. Oh wow. It was- well,” She looked everywhere but Lilith, ears growing hot. “That was my first kiss.” She was blushing. Like crazy. “I’ll be ready next time.”

Lilith blinked slowly, processing. After all that was done…she drew the line at kissing?

Beyond her bafflement was a new found pleasure. Her Eve was so loveable.

Lilith laughed.

It was a light, carefree laugh she never thought she could produce. It delighted her even more so she laughed harder. Eve’s eye widened at the view. It was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen- ever heard. Her beautiful lily was so easy to love.

Eve was suddenly picked off the ground. Caught off guard, she reached out and circled her arms around Lilith’s neck. Being carried bridal style like this with her broken bones, torn clothes and messy face made her realize how disheveled she must look.

Lilith said she was beautiful though.

Sheepish from the onslaught of giddy emotions, she buried her face into her lover’s shoulder.

“Fine, this is perfect too.” Lilith was grinning, canine glistening with blood. “We’ll take it slow.” She hugged her tighter to her body, enjoying the feel of Eve tightly cling to her. “We have all the time in the world, my love.”

On the crossroads to hell, one found god, another found heaven.

Their endless night was finally here.

COMPLETE GENESIS TRILOGY HERE

THE END

In the main corridor of the emergency operations ward of the Capital City’s central hospital stood an incensed father raging at a doctor in a white coat and white gloves. A single circular glass hovered over her left eye, too shaded to see through. Pinned to the right was a name tag over her heart with one word.

Rose.

“Senator Barnes.” Rose spoke calmy despite the general air of urgency that existed in the emergency unit. “There is no discrimination between patients here. They are all the same.”

“This same nonsense as the receptionist. Do you know who I am?” Barnes smashed against the badge on his chest. “A mere hospital director offending a Party Member? I can shut down this place by the wave of my hand!”

Rose’s expression, an open detachment remained unchanged. “As you wish, Senator.”

She turned, making her way to the operation room. Barnes hastily grabbed her by the elbow.

Before this, other people; patients, attendants and doctors alike remained bystanders, not daring to interfere. Self preservation, no one wanted to be on the bad side of a politician.

Right?

So it seemed. But the expressions on the staffs’ faces once the Director was grabbed says this lack of intervention had very less to do with the Senator.

“You will save my son! How can his life be exchanged for a homeless parasite without a penny to pay? I can easily renovate this entire street as compensation. Even if that man is saved there will be no one to waiting to celebrate him, neither will anyone mourn his death. This can’t be said for a 2^nd tier Party Member’s son. Are you ready to bear the consequences of this loss? This will directly affect the future of our government. Think very carefully now, doctor. Despite being the only person capable to perform this procedure, you want to make the foolish choice of wasting it on a street stain?”

Rose turned. She didn’t respond. Only staring down at the hand grabbing her elbow. This singular eye's iris covered more surface than normal. Like the white sclera was slowly being devoured from within.

Humans are instinctual creatures at critical times. Once her gaze lifted to meet his, he subconsciously pulled away despite his anger.

Only then, did Rose speak. “This has nothing to do with saving people, Senator. I engage in diseases and medicinal research. The condition patient 007 has is very peculiar. It's at its latest stage and a breakthrough is just around the corner. Even though your son’s condition is quite extreme, it was initiated by the most common case of the Marks. Something that could’ve been easily avoided by keeping up with scheduled vaccinations. I cannot waste this once in a lifetime opportunity because of another’s paranoiac beliefs. Now,” She waved a hand. Security officers suddenly appeared, flanking the senator’s sides. “I must begin the process. See yourself out.”

Barnes swore and protested, threatening the hospital, threatening the staff, threatening Rose’s livelihood but he was still ushered out onto the hospital sidewalk. It was the most unseen debacle. In the era where the government’s will was higher than god’s, for a common hospital director to treat him this way, was an obviously stupid move.

And for what? Some miniscule research that can always be restarted?

This was the problem with the younger generation. They were too impulsive.

It was his duty, as an elder, to teach her the ways of the world. So, he made his calls, contacted those so powerful, a single command would have the hospital demolished, even with the people inside. And no one would bat an eye.

But what a wonder. Every single call had ended with an abrupt change of subject once he mentioned who the person he complained about was or a vague distancing from the subject at hand. Yes, he was aware this was a skillful doctor. That was why she was a director at the best hospital in the Colony but so what? Why would that be enough to make a coward of domineering giants???

But alas, he’d emptied his call log and there still wasn’t a difference in his situation before being thrown out of the hospital and now.

His sense of urgency graduated to mild panic. His son couldn’t die. That was the only male in their family. Without him, the primary power for the assembly seat would be transferred to his brother's family once he retires in a few months. His family only moved to the Capital recently. Their position was on shaky ground. He couldn’t pass it on to that fool. He’d rather die.

His focus shifted from the phone to the hospital doors guarded by a long line of flowers on each side. He’d already been thrown out once in public. Better present humiliation than a lifelong one. Of course, once his son was cured, he'd pay the gesture tenfold. But he needed to focus on the important things first.

Everyone desired something. It was the law of nature. There was rarely anything in his position he won’t be able to offer to that woman.

It took 5 minutes. The return, causing a scene for the doctor’s audience and conveying his earnest will to fulfil any request. Anything at all. And to his dismay, it wasn’t until he got down to his knees, head pressed against the floor did the director finally reappear.

Egotistical bitch.

It was fine. All would be returned after the fact.

“Senator.” Rose spoke in the same monotone. “You must really care for your son to lower yourself to this level.”

Hope flared in his chest. She was finally swayed. He got this feet with a faux humble expression. “The love of a father knows no bounds, director.”

“I too have things I care about.” She looked at him deeply, voice clear and steady. “The most important being my research. I do not care for the person. All I need is the right subject.”

Barnes nodded, quickly catching on. “You want me to find a replacement for the straggler once he dies while you’re operating on my son.”

“I already have a replacement.”

Barnes eyes furrowed. Then what do you want? “You do?”

“Yes. You.” She casually pulled out a liquid capsule from her inner coat pocket. “My findings from continuous experiments on 007 has led me to a composition that can force the human body into the current state the test subject is in.”

Before Barnes was a transparent capsule with red liquid sitting center of a white gloved hand. He immediately stepped back, hands in the air as if protecting himself from a physical attack. “What kind of joke is this?”

“My research isn’t a tool for amusement, Senator.”

Barnes looked up to see the waiting expression on her face. She was being 100% serious. This was what she wanted? To create replicate this disease in someone else??

He looked around, waiting for someone to explain the director's strange sense of humour, or ridiculeher or atleast question the proposition.

The emergency unit remained still. Nobody was moving. Even the nurses with patients on wheelchairs stood by the side. As if scared that any motion would redirect the director's attention to them instead.

The neck area around Barnes shirt became slightly dampened. “I…I can find someone else to take it then-”

“This is a remission for your own mistakes, why would someone take on this loan for you?”

“But- This-” His breath picked up. He never once considered this type of payment. “This is ridiculous.”

“This is my condition.” Her head angled, causing the florescent lights to create a glint against her monocle. Perhaps it was the trick of the lights but Barnes saw red. “One that would be off the table in 30 seconds.”

Was she really serious? Who in their right mind makes a to go capsule to replicate a disease? How is that even legal? Why is everyone standing doing nothing? Is she not worried for word of this getting out?

Barnes’ mind was in chaos.

His eyes furtively flicked to the wall clock

Ten seconds down.

Is there seriously no one to call to put her in her place? Time is running out, my son’s time is running out. My family's time is running out.

What was this charade.

Ten seconds.

No, she can’t be serious? Right? But what even is going to happen? The straggler allegedly lived with this condition for years before it reached this state, so it’s not like it’s fatal. It can't be or she won't leave so many witnesses. Who even is capable of perfectly recreating a disease? She can't be that good. This is most likely a regualar drug that induces common health side effects. She's a fake. I've seen cons like her, too many to count in my career. But why do I have to be the one to do this- there’s so many people to use.

“Three.”

“D-director let’s discuss this again-”

“Two” The white glove started to curl around the drug. “One-”

Barnes swiped the pill from her hand and swallowed under a millisecond.

Silence.

30 seconds passed and nothing happened. Barnes let out a nervous, slightly relieved laugh. “Ha… doctor... You can’t go back on your word now. You better save my son.”

“I will.”

Barnes finally smiled. He was about to let out a tired sigh but something got hooked in his throat, like a fish bone blocking his airway. He hit his chest repeatedly, trying to clear whatever was lodged in there. But it didn’t go. And he didn’t breath. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even cough.

He was choking.

Choking in the middle of the emergency ward of the biggest hospital in the city and nobody was doing anything about it.

Spit and saliva frothed at the edges of his lips, a green tint moving along the veins on his pale face. Something between a hiccup and a gasp emerged in sequence from his throat. Hot congealed blood spilled from his mouth. The floor beneath him turned to mush, just like his knees, welcoming him to a horizontal plane.

The feeling of suffocating yet still somehow being alive. It was a pain worse than anything he’d ever experienced. And it wasn't lessening. The terrible pressure in his chest just kept growing heavier until his ribs felt like they were going to shatter under the pressure.

He wanted to die.

He tried to communicate this, tried to croak out a plea for release, tried to meet the director’s eyes. But his vision was obscured, almost black, as if oxygen and light were privileges he was about to lose. He did see one last thing. One last time.

He couldn’t tell if it was a human being or an apparition.

The director stood, hands in pockets, eye a bit widened. Her pupil was dilated, mouth parted as she took slow, deep inhales. The hard exterior that was her facial expression was now cracked in replacement for something akin to euphoria.

She found his misery, euphoric.

He passed out.

As quickly as this expression revealed itself did it disappear, Rose turned away from the motionless body, waving at a junior resident to come over.

“Move the Senator to my second lab. Allow the infected blood to be completely drained before any transfusion can begin. What room is the son? Have my team prepare for the surgery.”

“…Yes Director.”

Just like that, motion returned to the emergency ward in Limbus Hospital.

“Doctor. Patient 007. He wishes to speak to you.“

7 hours later, the surgery was completed and the Senator’s son was stable. Rose had just stepped out of the operating room when a house officer appeared beside her. The Director had just performed a miracle surgery so there were stars in this intern’s eye. She made sure to keep her head down because of this.

Rose paused in her tracks. 007 being alive at this hour despite the body’s condition. It was a testament to his willpower.

The intern continued when Rose remained silent. “He’s in a lot of pain but has refused euthanasia. Insists to see you before he dies.“ The intern peaked up to study Rose’s expression warily. There were no changes. Or maybe she wasn’t quick enough to catch any micro-expressions. She was smart enough however to identify that Rose’s iris did a slight upwards tilt. Not an eye roll but as if looking a little up to the ceiling.

She did this when she was interrupted in her research work or someone dropped an instrument during an operation or when a politician was at her office requesting a meeting.

Basically a tell sign that she considered something a nuisance.

To the intern’s surprise, the Director asked. “He is in the same lab as the Senator isn’t he? Someone should be waiting for me at my first office. Let him know I’ll be late.“

The intern did an inward sigh of relief and went on the errand. Subject 007 had kind of grown on the interns and nurses that were in charge of the Director’s research labs. He was very easygoing despite his condition.

Rose led herself to her lab at the other end of the hospital, closing the door behind her. It was a regular room. With three beds, some stools and cabinets of medical equipment, medicines and experiment recordings. The Senator lay of the first bed, pale and unconscious with a tube covering the lower half of his face. Three 100ml bags of contaminated blood had already been filled and he was halfway through the 4th.

A croak came from the other side. The dying man’s eyes were on her. Rose took a seat beside the patient’s deathbed. For the Marks’ virus, whatever part of the body growing the condemnation lines would slowly lose feeling and function. This continued until the entire body was ‘marked’ and became as useless as a corpse. 007’s disease was quite similar to the Marks’ in the sense that it attacked with a purpose.

To debilitate.

The means here were the bones. They transformed from dependable fortresses of protection to sharpened weapons that preyed on the internal organs. Thus the incessant bleeding. It was manageable until the skull grew malicious as well.

“Doctor.“ 007’s eyes, having lost all light was almost completely white. “Is that you?“

Rose didn’t respond. She was still looking at the bags of blood drained from the Senator. They couldn’t be used on living humans but perhaps her plant variants?

“I wanted to say thank you.” 007 continued regardless. He spoke slowly, like pronouncing each word properly took concentrated effort. His gums were engorged from the receding teeth afterall. “I’ve always wanted to be useful. You know, before you picked me off the streets, I had nothing, and nobody. After going bankrupt a decade ago, I was left to fend for myself on the streets. It’s a hard life. Outside this building. I’ve long forgotten my own name. I don’t think anyone outside this hospital even remembers me. No value whatsoever. Then I was brought here. Given a shelter, medication and feeding in exchange for contributing to research. To me, this was a deal with no losses on my part. I finally had some worth. I was finally someone to remember“

He took in several deep breaths that sounded like dry gasps. Like the air being taken in had to be forced through else it would be expelled immediately.

“Doctor…you’re still there right?“ His eyes darted all over the place, unable to shift his head as it had gotten too heavy. Perhaps he could still see a shadow of an outline so he let out a shudder of relief and continued. This time, his words spilled faster. There was a pressing urgency in his tone. “I- I know you’re close to a breakthrough. And…I want to be part of it. I know I told the residents I just wanted to see you one last time. But I was lying. I don’t want to die. I’ve made so many friends in this unit. It may sound bleak but my life restarted in this hospital.“ Tears spilled out from the corners of his eyes. “I’m scared. I don’t want to leave. I finally have hobbies. I don’t want to leave behind the flowers in back garden that I took care of. I don’t want to stop feeling the sun. I don’t want to go. I want to live. Even the thought of a coffin, no, no I don’t want that. I don’t want to be forgotten. Forgotten in the mud. Used to grow other life. What about my life. Please. Please do something, doctor. I know you can. You can save anyone. You’re the miracle doctor. I’ve heard so many people call you that. Please save me doctor-“

“No.”

“W-what?“

“I am not saving you.“ Rose stood up, briefly glancing at the sorry figure on the bed. “A subject past its expiration date holds no value to a researcher. Two hours. That’s your life’s expectancy. I don’t perform miracles. I just do my job.“

“No…no. You can do something. I trust you. I believe in you.“ His voice was firm, hard in denial. “Please. Try something. Anything. There should be something you learnt. A new development from these past few months. Something different.“

But the Director had already turned away to address his replacement.

The flight, fight or freeze response is triggered when by the sympathetic nervous system when the brain perceives danger or severe stress. There is also a burst of adrenaline to support whichever choice is made in that phase. In this scenario, dying was a greater danger than annoying the Director.

A hand latched on to Rose’s shoulder. It dropped as quickly as it came. But it was enough to garner her attention. 007 couldn’t see the expression on her face. And couldn’t sense her emotions. He was too focused on standing straight with no support at all, his knees buckling from the exhaustion that came with the malicious swelling of bones. But he knew she had turned to face him.

“I know you’re the creator of the Marks’ vaccine. Imagine. You were able to curb an apocalypse all by yourself. Your experiments and research has always been to fix ailments, find permanent solutions to chronic illnesses and save humanity. You’re a good person. Good people are gifted. You were blessed by God. God’s soldier. What is one more miracle? This is your ministry and your power defeats the evil in this world. You’ve brought so much hope. I believe in you. I believe in your gift. So please doctor, save me.“

There truly was no expression on Rose’s face. Even the upwards eye tilt wasn’t done. If 007 had seen this, he would’ve sighed in relief, a spark of hope ignited.

Rose was quiet for a long time. Then, she took a step forward. Just a few breaths away. As if about to grant the breath of life. Her voice was steady, clear and almost gentle.

“God does not exist.“ One gloved hand slid over his cheek, almost like a caress. “If he does, he is weak.“ The other hand cupped the back of his head, fingers brushing his swollen ear. “If he isn’t, he is evil.“ Both hands cradled this dying man’s head like it was fragile glass. At this very moment, the light returned to 007. He could see. A blind man could see. These hands had just brought forth a miracle. Her gaze was just as other-wordly. “The last case, unfortunately for you, is that he is irrelevant.“

CRACK!

His head snapped to the right violently, neck bone jutting out against the skin of his throat.

The corpse crumpled to the floor.

“You insult me by such an association.”

The body, which fell sideways was turned upwards by the tip of her shoes. The twisted neck remained in place, eyes still wide open with hope as if yet to catch up with his own death.

“There is no reason to panic.“ Rose, spoke casually, still looking down at the dead man. “You said it yourself, no one would miss him.“ She finally glanced to the left. “Why are you scared?“

The Senator had woken during the conversation between 007 and the Director. His eyesight had returned albeit blurry. The pressure in his chest had lessened too but he felt a soreness deep into his bones, he couldn’t even lift head without the pain of a ton of weights pressing down on him.

He heard it. The quiet crack of the spine. The heavy weight dropping to the floor. The silence brought about by the absence of the man’s pleading voice.

He heard it all.

He wanted to speak, remind her of how he had a family and was a well known figure. How she couldn’t replicate what just happened to him. He wanted to warn her.

Threaten her.

But as the Director made her way to him, only two syllables emerged from his tube covered mouth.

“Doctor…“

Just like 007, Rose calmly took a seat beside him.

“Senator.“

Beads of sweat dripped down Barnes’ face despite the air conditioned room.

“Earlier today, you spoke about how everyone had things they care for. You, your political position, 007, his worth and I, my research.“ She lightly glanced at the open tremors in his hands. “Next, your dignity, 007, his attachments and I, my personal space.“ She spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “It seems we’ve all lost a bit of our treasure today.“

Barned remained cautiously silent.

“A bit embarrassing to admit but I’m terribly sensitive when it comes to physical contact. You see, I had a lot of that growing up so I try to abstain from it now. Lest, I revert to my old ways.”

“But telling you this doesn’t matter, does it? When pushed to the edge, humans fall back to instinct. Despite 007 being knowledgeable about my rules, he still broke them once desperation hit it’s peak.”

“Senator.“ Rose folded her hands back on her lap with a despondent sigh. “You were already so difficult to deal with before you became a subject. Is it worth treating you?“ Her eye inadvertently glanced to the still corpse at the other side. Just for a second. A second long enough for Barnes to catch. “Should I just let you go?“

The fear, which caused him to remained silent, doubled, forcing him to finally speak.

“This is a hospital. Foul play won’t go unnoticed.“ Barnes huffed between blood clots. “Everyone is a witness to my becoming a patient. I can’t die here.”

It was quiet for a while. Barnes couldn’t muster the courage to look directly at her. But he couldn’t look at the corpse either. Couldn’t bear it. So his gaze stayed right above her shoulder.

“Who said anything about death?”

Barnes eyes automatically fell to the body on the floor. Rose’s body tilted a bit, blocking the view. “Like you said, the both of you are on different classes.“ Her fingers drummed against her knee, thoughtful. “Same problem, different solutions.“

She took to her feet and walked away. There was an obvious loosening in the tension of Barnes’ shoulders. She was finally leaving.

“Did you know?“ Her voice sounded from another side of the room. From the cabinets. “There are three hallmarks in the brain during hypnosis. Decreased activity in the DAC, increased connections between the DPC and insula areas of the brain ,and thus a drop in connections between the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex and the default mode network. The combined effects would be a lesser control in decision making and self awareness. It would be in our best interest to maximize these effects on you.”

Was she going to ‘brainwash’ him? His back stiffened again, overly cautious. No. It was fine. He could just pretend to be affected. Their family line had strong mental fortitude. He could resist it. This was merely a battle of willpower. This he could handle. How did he ascend to the current position in the party? By being weak? Of course not.

Rose reappeared beside him. Some things were placed on the surface above so he could only see the single role of medical tape in her hand.

His left eyelid was suddenly pulled back, so far back it merged with his eyebrow. This fusion was held down by tape that stopped by his hairline.

…Was this some type of visual hypnosis? Like the ones shown on tv shows where a moving spiral or a ticking clock hand was used?

“But hypnosis is not a one time solution and easy to break out of. It may also interfere with the research as neurological signals fluctuate differently during that period.“

Responsive tears due to the dryness of his exposed eye gathered at the edges.

SHING.

Following a sound of metal scrapping against the surface of the table, a sharp instrument appeared in his line of sight. Its handle was short and wooden while the rest of the length at least 25cm long. In the doctor’s hands, it looked more like a sword than a medical instrument.

“There is, however, a quicker, much more efficient way to get similar results.” Her other hand appeared, wielding a small hammer looking tool with its head seeming to weigh at least two tonnes. “All I need is brief contact with the prefrontal cortex.“

The Senator’s mind was blank for half a second.

“Wait wait wait wait!” His legs pushed hurridly against the bed in a frantic effort to exponentially multiply the distance between himself and the tip of the icepick. Well atleast he tried. The only motion being output was the weak digging on his heels against the bedsheets. His body couldn’t follow through with his state of mind. “Don’t- don’t do this. Please don’t do this.“

The icepick bent to an obtuse angle relational to the horizontal plane, an invisible straight line connecting the tip to the very top of his eye socket.

Barnes was screaming. The research lab was deathly silent but he was screaming. Blood frothed out of his mouth in waves, hot air fogging the tube as the contaminated blood trickled down. The nearly full bag bubbled from the pressure made from his terror and dismay.

He needed to escape. Needed to get the hell out of here. Away from this mad woman. Away from this containment. The place was littered with real doctors. He just needed to leave this room.

The tip of the icepick rested softly against the smooth, soggy membrane of his eye socket.

No no no no no. This isn't happening. This can't be happening right now. Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up. MOVE. Someone. Anyone. Help. Help. Help. Help me.

SOMEBODY HELP ME.

DO SOMETHING!

A gloved hand pulled the mallet up.

I’m scared.

And down.

Barnes’ body jerked violently in bed but no sound erupted. Not even a gasp.

And up.

Outside, a plane flew over the building.

And down.

Thick trails of greyish-pink matter mixed with blood rolled down the Senator’s cheekbone.

Up.

Down.

The tension in his legs released, and so did a mix of fluids that soiled the white sheet between his legs.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

With only the wooden handle left out, the ice pick seemed like an Excalibur, waiting to be pulled out by the chosen. But this wasn’t a tale. The Rose, The Wizard and The King were all the same.

And how unfortunate it was, for this monarchy’s subjects.

Half an hour later, the intern reappeared in the lab room by the Director’s summon. The senator was still unconscious it seemed. Though, he didn’t appear as troubled as before. There was a serenity about him. Perhaps the doctor gave him a painkiller. She wasn’t certain why he had a bandage around his eye though. Had it already reached the point of partial blindness? 007 didn’t hit that stage until the 5th month.

Speaking of, she looked to the other side.

Her back hit the closed door as she jerked away in surprise.

Rose, who had been looking outside the window for a while, turned at the sound of her gasp. She'd replaced her gloves after the cleanup. “You may begin blood transfusion for the patient. He will remain in a short coma for the next three days. Have his family visit only after I’ve cleared it.”

“…Will do.“ The intern couldn’t help but glance at 007 on the floor. “Doctor…“

“Start processing the corpse.“ She glanced at the empty deathbed. “His final wish was to have the euthanasia administered by me. He didn’t want to be remembered. Stressed the importance of moving on. Specified to be incinerated, his remains scattered across the front garden to help the weeds grow. Something about blessings and reincarnation.”

The resident’s eyes softened, heart tightening with an awaited grief.

“Sounds like him.“

Métis held his briefcase against his legs, resisting the urge to tap his foot on the floor impatiently. The receptionist, a kind young nurse had offered him a seat at the waiting room but he rejected it. That was an hour ago. Now, he was considering it as the shift was changing and the next receptionist may not be as considerate.

The sound of familiar footsteps had him straightening quickly and looking back, the urge to sit transforming to the need to hug his briefcase to his chest.

“Director.“

Rose walked past him and unlocked her main office door. After taking her seat, the bottom drawer was pulled open. In there was a stack of pitch black paper and several colored pens. She took a sheet and a white inked pen. Leaning forward on her desk, she signed the top left with a name and address.

007

13-02-3022

Limbus Hospital

The Rose.

“Sit down.” She said, not looking up.

Métis’ shoulders visibly relaxed and he took a cautious seat across her. He made sure to keep his eyes up, burying his curiosity. It was a common knowledge the Director wrote letters whenever a patient died in her hospital. No matter who it was. It was presumed to be a farewell letter. This was something that moved a great number of people. Workers and patients alike. It was one of the many reasons to ideate her.

If Métis hadn’t known better, he’d be awed by her considerations too.

Not wanting to waste longer than necessary in the room, he pulled out the balance sheet for the past two weeks. For the Marks’ Vaccine, Solue and its antithesis, Ekstasi. The former, Tag S showed a steady decline and the latter, Tag E, a sharp rise in procurement.

The Marks’ spawned over a decade ago. The introduction of the vaccine two years later by the Solutions Pharmaceuticals Limited company raised their stocks past the roof. In the third year of the virus, SPL, the primary manufacturers of Solue had the highest annual gross earnings across all colonies.

According to his research, the Director was merely a junior surgeon and researcher in a public hospital at the start of the virus. But she now owned her own hospital, the biggest in the State and had enough connections to take a 2nd Class Party member’s threat as child’s play. Such privileges were gained from being the sole creator of the Marks vaccine.

But times had changed. Ever since a user died from suicide after alleged over dosage, radical groups spread out, preaching against the use of this vaccine as the major pandemic has already passed and there was no need for it. This didn’t affect Rose per se, she had long sold the royalties to SPL. There were no commercial benefits nor consequences with whatever happened with Solue.

In the last year, the enforcement of Solue had lessened to a minuscule fraction depending on the colony. Not a month later, an anti vaccine had become popularly distributed by a shadow dealer. The original vaccine might have cured the body but there were significant side effects on the mental health, or so a partition of the general public claimed.

This anti vaccine appeared to reverse the alleged side-effects. It was rushed for. The same element used in creating the popular narcotic Candy was also used in the anti vaccine—albeit a purified, harmless version. Even if it didn’t cause addition, Candy addicts began to fall to Ekstasi as supplement when they couldn’t afford Candy.

A high end anti-vaccine with the purest elements that could reverse mental side effects, was affordable even to the common man and consistently distributed despite the illegality of it.

All risk, no significant reward. A losing game. This was how normal people would view the business. However, to a researcher, what was the quickest way to get results?

An abundance of test subjects in varied controlled environments.

Rose glanced at the balance sheets placed before her with mild interest before focusing back on writing her letter. Her handwriting was surprisingly the same as an average doctor’s.

Indecipherable.

The only tell she was listening as he gave his bi-weekly financial run down was a slight nod every two minutes. “There’s been a spike in market audience for Tag E. Over 40%. Net income peaked by 70% as of yesterday, probably due to the holiday tomorrow and cross-colony travels. ‘Campaign’ operations for the next half year have been set in motion and ready for review today at Saints’ Hotel.” He collected the sheets back into the envelop. The Director was now carefully reading over what she’d written. It was a tremendous month for them in terms of finances and ‘marketing’ but the director didn’t seem that much interested. Métis’ knees jerked, he spoke slowly. “There was an incident on my way here. A side effect of Tag E.“

The eye tracking words on paper finally stopped.

Métis readily passed over an envelop containing several images he got the processed en route to the hospital.

“A report from YTA airlines. A passenger- no a 4 month old baby experienced extreme containerized pressure and exploded from within. From my sources, I believe it was fed Tag S, then immediately after, Tag E just a few moments before the incident.”

Pristine gloves laid out the 7 images on the desk like a mini deck of cards. All of different angles of a dismembered body. Three of them were of the parts already in a containment box while others were of the parts still spluttered across the plane aisle and seats.

“How long was the plane in the air?”

“30 minutes.”

“Landed now?”

“No. ETA 30 more minutes, doctor.”

Rose gave a final, brief glance over all 7 pictures. Her gaze, for a split second lingered on the blonde hair at the edge of the last one, most likely from another passenger. “Have the subject E39 remains collected and sent to my lab. I want to have it on my table tomorrow.”

“...I’ll contact the airlines now.”

“Anything else?”

Bile rose at the back of his throat. He took another glance at the table. At the perfectly arranged images of one of the many victims of a relentless researcher who had lost all morals. The same doctor who this hospital’s patients looked up to. Another statistic, another hallmark, another recorded test case in exchange for the innocence of human life. It was disgusting.

He was disgusting.

The news of the plane incidents hadn’t brought him any despair. He hadn’t rushed here and was unable to sit waiting because of indignation. The former had brought him hope, the latter was due to excitement.

He had no idea what this person was trying to find by breeding such a large audience. Maybe when he started, he was only slightly curious of the goal, more resentful than anything else. But the focus had shifted. He had looked forward to the doctor’s reaction. And now that it was so lukewarm, he felt disappointment.

Disappointed that this gruesome death of an innocent wasn't entertaining enough for her.

When did he start craving her approval?

She wasn’t even charismatic. There was never a grand speech or display that made people want to work under her. No pretty lies nor false promises. Just deals. Fair ones. It always seemed fair at the start. How many other people had fallen victim under this spell and sold their morality for the chance of satisfying the devil? And how many other people carried back home this self loathing, reproach and pointless sense of loss every day of their lives?

He’d become too desensitized to care.

The Saints’ Hotel master suite was situated at the very top of the building, stretching 20 meters wide. The main room, with its undulating ceilings and renaissance architecture had a wide balcony where one could view the entire of the Main city of the capital Colony. The hotel’s height even rivalled the Central Clock.

A screen covered half the west wall of this luxurious room. This screen was divided into 20 rectangular boxes, each streaming footage of a public figure- be it celebrity or politician in their private residence.

This sight greeted Rose when she stepped into the apartment. And so did a man, so thin his bones seemed to poke out of his skin. He’d shuffled out of the balcony to the center room once he heard her return. A giant bundle of wire was held in his arms. Despite the obvious malnutrition, he had a grace about him. This wasn’t inborn but learned over the years.

“Director.” He stuttered, joints trembling as if it were being tugged by an invisible string. Jaundiced eyes skittering about. “I-I thought you were not coming back today- Well I- I’ve done what you asked. I was going to test the setup and then send the footage and then leave I think I don’t remember what was I... Ah, well since you’re already here…”

Rose took the extended remote controller from his unsteady hands. This simple device had 20 digit buttons at the first half, 4 arrows at the center, and another set of buttons at the bottom. These buttons facilitated direct control to each room’s entry, exit and primary emergency mechanisms. The entire process of infiltrating each house, setting up surveillance and hijacking its security took roughly 2 months. In view were potential Ekstasi publicists, currently legacy Candy customers.

The man, named Inuit, watched Rose test out these mechanisms, offering input whenever he was prompted. 5 minutes of testing and Rose approved the setup. Inuit sighed in relief. And then, looked at her hopefully.

“Direc- doctor. Uh…please…since you’re here.” He wrung his hands over the other, looking around like something was going to pop out from a corner to maul him. His palms were moist from fear. From anticipation. “Can I get another gig? And and an advance? Can I get an advance? Please? This…this one was 20. A candy, a head, haha that’s what I said back then. Do you get it? But it’s already finished. So…just 10. 10 for the advance. How is that? Or no. 5 is enough actually. That can work. You know what? How about the entire pay be 5? Just 5 right now and I’ll get to work. Like now. Please. Please doctor.”

At some point in his begging, Inuit had gotten to his knees. It couldn’t be known if it was by his will or because he was took weak to stop the tremors that caused his shoulders buckle and knees to knock against each other. His skin was so pasty, so slimy, the sweat coating his face looked like thick white particles of vomit.

Rose took a seat on the white sofa facing the screen. From her coat pocket, she retrieved a folded black letter and opened it slowly. It was the same letter from the afternoon. She glanced at the letter. Then the kneeling figure. Then the letter again. Then flipped it around.

The back was blank.

“Do you have a lighter?“

Inuit’s eyes brightened, he dug into his pocket then crawled- or at least tried to, his elbow kept hitting the floor-forward. But he finally made it to Rose and extended the lighter politely.

Idly playing with the lighter across her fingers, she asked casually. “Should I burn it now?”

Inuit’s mind raced. Though his memories were merely fogy afterimages at this point, he recalled the rumor that the doctor had a habit of writing letters? If you took your time to do something, you won’t want to destroy it right?

“No…“

The room was quiet, save for Inuit’s labored breathing as he tried to keep himself kneeling upright.

Rose nodded and leaned forward, whispering to the trembling figure. “Go get the safe then.“

A bit of color returned to Inuit’s face. He jumped up happily, a new strength seeping into his bones. He was gone and back with a black box under a minute.

The safe, a 135 x 90 x 300 glass cabinet had crystal imprints outlining a capital C. Rose used her thumb print to open the cover. The box held 10 syringes full with a sparkly liquid of a deep pink.

The purest form of Candy.

The syrup.

Inuit’s eyes widened, pupils dilating. This was his first time laying eyes on the real deal. Candy syrup was only a rumor, a wish from street addicts, and a promise from district dealers. He swallowed, mouth dry, he had only been able to afford low end candy pieces for the past years with his growing debts and medications. This gig that he’d stumbled upon only because the last person overdosed was the first and last opportunity he’d ever have to be in the vicinity of this level of purity. What…what did it feel like-

“Boring.”

Inuit blinked, reluctantly looking up from the assembly of syringes. “...What?”

“Repetitive.“

He wasn’t very perceptive but he could tell the doctor’s mood wasn’t quite right. So, he shut his mouth, not daring to worsen whatever situation he might’ve fallen into. The director didn’t speak again. Just looking at him with an expression akin to apathy.

The silence in the room was palpable.

“You were a sportsman once, weren’t you?”

“...No.” He shifted on his feet. “A ballet dancer.”

“Oh.” She rested her chin of her hand, considering. “How about a performance then?”

“A performance?”

“Mm. As compensation.”

“I haven’t danced in years...” This addiction had cost him his job, family, talent and self.

“One last performance.” She removed two syringes from the box. “Not too expensive for two shots right?”

He toppled fell over .”T-two??”

“One before and after the performance. Here,” She extended the syringe to him with zero care. “Take the first.”

Two minutes produced an empty syringe bottle, a new needle puncture and an Inuit very far from sobriety.

“Another one.” Inuit’s voice wasn’t the same timid squeak anymore. It was demanding and thirsty. “Give me the second now.”

“The performance.” A desperate junkie wasn’t the safest to be around yet Rose remained unguarded in her position. ”And remember, if I’m not the least bit entertained at the end, deal is off.”

Inuit eyed the box of candy not even 4 feet away. He could get it. Get it all now. He could win a fight against her right? Even though he’s a bit sickly, he should have more physical benefits over her as a man.

Fully inebriated, he still didn’t dare act on his instinct. Instead, he racked his foggy brain for how to fulfil the task. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a bit that would be entertaining enough. He could barely manage a plié.

“No stimulating idea, do you have?”

“Not yet Director…”

“Fine. Go get the stool you used for installations. And find a wire long enough from what’s left. Say,” Rose looked at the chandelier hung from the lowest part of the ceiling. “5 meters long.“

Albeit confused, he got the required items. She then pointed to the stem. “Tie one end there.”

Slow. His brain was too slow. So he just nodded and did what he was told, not fully understanding why. As long as he got his second hit. Though the stool was high with extra steps, he still had to go on his tippy toes to tie the wire to the chandelier’s length. His right eye shut tightly after having a bead of salty sweat slip in. It was hard concentrating and staying steady as the stool’s circumference was barely wide enough to fit both feet. Deep in Inuit’s mind, alarm bells started to ring. But not only was the sound too dull, a louder one overpowered it.

This sound came from Rose’s phone.

It was a familiar song. Every ballet dancer knew it. Even after years of addiction, he couldn’t forget this tune. A popular piece used for a ballerina’s very first official recital. It was 15 minutes long.

“I used to have these toys as a child. The winding ones where you could turn the key at the back for it to perform. Then you had to do it again after a while. And again. And again. And again. What do they call them again? Automatons? Yes. For a ballerina, the equivalent of such a performance would be a recurring pirouette no?”

“Well.. uh…I guess. Something like that.”

“But something is missing. There’s no winding and unwinding mechanism. No metal spring of sorts.” The song played serenely at the background. “Tie the other end of the wire around your neck.”

“…What?”

There was no response. The song kept playing. Rose’s steady gaze remained on him.

A waiting gaze.

The song kept playing.

If this piece ends without the director being entertained, I won’t get my other shot.

Confusion apparent in his features, he slowly raised the other end and tied it loosely around his neck. His hands trembled. Not from the drugs.

The song kept playing.

He shuddered. The candy was kicking in harder. A giant eye, barely confined by the walls of the room stared down at him. Its monstrous iris made it hard to breath. Too hard. Like he was in a grave oxygen debt. He swallowed.

And tied the noose harder.

The wire was loose between ends. It wasn’t taut at all. If he simply spun and reversed every ten seconds, it would be fine. Winding and unwinding. Obviously what the director wanted. That was all.

Obviously.

Not wanting to waste more time and lose Rose’s interest completely, he started his performance. It was clumsy. He wasn’t even able to keep his foot on his knee. Every few seconds, it dropped to regain stability. It was awful.

An untalented ballerina on a ladder, the memorable recital music playing in the background, a screen filled with oblivious prey in their habitat and a wilting rose.

5 minutes into the play, the rose spoke, voice barely audible over the music.

“God is dead, Earth is full and Hell is starving.“

“The suffering of humanity and the filthiness of the soul. This is a devil’s greatest feast. I once pursued the former. Again and again and again. A futile chase to maximize this thing they call misery. What didn’t I do?” There was a mania in her eyes that couldn’t be contained. “What didn’t I possibly do.”

Her coat sleeves were pulled up roughly to reveal several forgotten scars on her dark skin. It was without a start or an end or a format. Like a child’s coloring book. Except the only crayon available was of the color red.

This view of her arms morphed into an uglier afterimage. Of rotting skin. Of an oozing black pus dripping from slack pores. She dug into those pores with her fingers. Instead of blood, a million infinitesimally small roses bloomed out from the melting void within.

“It didn’t work. I couldn’t offer my suffering. In a quest to taint what did not exist, I cultivated external suffering. Rightly tortured souls I sent everyday on a black platter. Every single day. Tens, hundreds, thousands.” Her breathing was rushed, unstable like the words coming forth were a regurgitation. “For it is only the most impure of souls that can be gifted eternal damnation. How much more? How many more sins need be committed to be condemned? How much more appetizing do I need to be to be edible? It’s useless. You cannot become what already is.“

“So,” She slowed down, regulating her breathing, eye scouring her surroundings. The entire living room was as if from an 80s flick. Standard monochrome with lagging motions. A tiny spot of color sparked around the toy’s neck but it was too faint, too distant and easily went back to monochrome every few seconds. “Only in these brief moments of another’s despair may I find a little bit of respite.”

She looked away.

“But that too has become useless. Boring. This daily cycle. I’ve watched it too many times to count. The hopelessness of humanity. A broken record. An overwatched play. And it’s festering. This longing for the misery that’s never wholly mine to claim. How is it, that an endless night is waiting yet my day remains the brightest?”

A tiny, almost imperceptible scream broke through her monologue and the recital music.

Rose’s attention was brought back to the screen.

It originated from the 13th section. The one broadcasting a streamer’s bedroom. A streamer, who was a regular customer for Candy Syrup and had a habit of taking it around this time at night. Any other day, Rose would’ve dismissed the scream being a result of common hallucinative effects caused by Candy but the shadow of another person caught her eye.

Thus, the 13th screen was put on focus.

Rose watched.

Her hands tightened imperceptibly over the controls.

The recital music came to a crescendo.

The toy was running out of gas.

Honey tried to sound the alarm.

Rose disabled it.

Climaxing violins sang from the phone.

Honey tried for the door.

Rose disabled that too.

The puppet slipped.

Honey dropped to her knees.

Rose rose to her feet.

A choking from behind.

A quiet mourning in front.

“It’s okay. I’m going to fix this. I’m going to fix you.”

A heart torn open by tooth and nail.

A phantom hand caressed an idle heart.

A head drooped to the side in a final bow.

Dark skin, battered blonde hair, torn clothes, a broken tooth and a bloody mouth.

Two loud heartbeats.

THUMP.

THUMP.

A resurrection of the living.

“Now,” Rose heard herself whisper. “This is interesting.”

COMPLETE GENESIS TRILOGY HERE

“Attention passengers. We are about to embark on the flight CB-709 District 207, 5th Colony to Terminal Y Anchor situated in the main District of our 1st. The estimated time of arrival is 1 hour, 5 minutes. A reminder that the Capital Colony is a bordered city so it is required by the National Health Affairs to take vaccine shots an hour before arrival. Our flight attendants will now go through the aisle, ensuring all passengers comply to the NHA regulations before takeoff. Do not forget to fasten your seatbelts. And please, have a nice flight.”

Just like the announcer said, attendants went to work, administering vaccinations to each passenger. The attendant with name tag, Glore spent a bit too long at seat 4C, seemingly arguing with a passenger. This passenger hugged her baby stubbornly refusing to let her child be vacinnated as it was still a newborn.

The vaccine law had relaxed in other parts of the state since the spread of the Marks’ virus reached a stalemate. Vaccination was only mandatory across a handful of colonies now. Those within and visiting those colonies always had an expected resistance to this continued enforcement. After much coercing, the mother reluctantly allowed the shot. However, once the attendants were out of sight, she pulled out a bottled medicine, ékstasi, and fed a few drops to the newborn. With this new age of vaccines came a batch of underground anti-vaccines to counter it, catered for the section of the population that remained paranoid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to undergo mild turbulence. Please ensure your seat belt are fastened and you remained seated. Thank you.” The announcer’s voice droned out 30 minutes after take off. A beat later, the plane shuddered as it dove through dark thick clouds. It was past 9 so the sky was already pitch black.

A small choking sound suddenly emerged from the center of the plane, right aisle. The newborn was fidgeting, eye shut tightly, fists clinging on to its mother’s clothes. The mother cooed, offering a pacifying smile and rubbing soothing circles on its back. But it somehow made the newborn more agitated. It twitched and twitched and twitched till its mouth quivered and finally broke into a loud wail.

The mother flinched, jerking her hand from the child’s cheek. She looked at her scalding hand in shock. “How did you get so-”

SPLAT!

Silence.

Loud, deafening silence.

The type that comes before the storm.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The mother’s eyes bulged out of her sockets as she screamed so loud it seemed to overpower the turbulence and resonate into the plane’s core. “MY BABY! MY BABY! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BABY??!”

Surrounding passengers shot out of their seats, terrified and shocked, backing away in open disgust and wariness. Maybe some also screamed but you won’t hear it over the mother’s wails.

How could you? Her baby was now a scattered pulp of flesh, organs, blood and intestines.

Her child just exploded in her face.

The turbulence increased and the standing crowd grew more agitated, some started praying profusely, rubbing their hands together, begging, be it for forgiveness or mercy. Others rushed back to their seats, taking the oxygen masks, battling their own panic attacks. On hearing the chaos, the flight attendants rushed out and got to work, settling everyone back in place and reassuring the distressed crowd. The mother had long fainted by the time they got to her. The attendant who spoke to her last was given the task of cleaning up the mess left behind. Her hands trembled as she forced a calm facade moving the body parts to a container and scrubbing off the liquids splattered all over the floor and now empty chair .

“‘Scuse me ma’am.”

Glore looked up to see the 4D passenger. Her blonde hair was tied up with pink ribbons in two buns. Her cheekbones were lightly covered with silver spots that seemed to be beaty marks. They twinkled on her brown skin like stars. She wore a white tube top with a giant pink heart at the center. Her bubble pink skirt brushed just past the middle of her thighs to meet the ends of her striped white and pink socks. Attached to her neck by a thin stringed black choker was a tiny wooden cross only a shade lighter than her skin.

The outfit would’ve been quite cute if it weren'tfor the fact that half of it was marred with blood.

Glore paled. All the attendants were so busy containing the mess they didn’t even notice the person that sat right beside the deceased child. After the mother, this should be the next person to be wary of their emotional state!

The passenger spoke before Glore could give her the round of perfunctory apologies, promises and an offer to move to the CRC compartment to rest.

“Is everything okay?”

Of all things that happened in this flight, that question brought the greatest bafflement. How could this passenger be asking her that question. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

“Miss- Miss Glore.” The passenger shifted nervously as if distraught by the lack of response. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Was I rude? I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself did I? I was wrong. My name’s Bethany but please I need to be called Bee.” Bee leaned forward, whispering despondently. “Sorry, I must be a nuisance, right?. But it’s just that we’re over a thousand feet in the air. There’s no technical issue is there? Let’s land this plane in the right destination and the right time please? I- we can’t afford an emergence landing right now okay?” When the attendant still did not answer, she continued with an urgency. “You see, I’m really scared of heights. I am. But I’m so so so more terrified of being late. I can’t be late.”

There was an odd look in Bee’s eyes. Despite not understanding what it meant, the sheer intensity caused the attendant to subconsciously lean back

“Okay?”

The attendant nodded dully. “Okay.”

“Thing is,” Bee straightened, hand folded on her lap, back ramrod straight, a dazzling smile spread across her face. “Today’s a very special day.” Her body swayed lightly as if in tune with a song only she could hear. “Valentine’s Eve. I can’t be late. Honey’s waiting.” A giddy laugh bubbled out of her throat, eyes slightly glazed. “My honey’s waiting.”

The incident on the plane, if disclosed to the public without preparations would be quite a scandal and detrimental to the YTA logistics company. The first protective measure was having the passengers be transported to an unpopulated terminal straight from their descent so as to avoid interacting with anyone outside the circle of concern. A van was used to take the still unconscious mother straight to a private hospital for treatment. While waiting for their luggage, the passengers were given refreshments and promises of compensation.

Bee only had a handbag on her. She didn’t need to go inside to wait. She was free to go. She skipped down the bus, two steps at a time, starry eyed.

“Ah yes, this is the passenger. Please take care of her.”

The moment her platform shoes touched the ground, EMTs flanked her. Glore, the flight attendants explained the situation quickly.

“I think she’s in a state of delirium after the incident. After I reported, the Captain thought it was best to have her checked in a hospital for her safety.”

“Miss.” One of the paramedics ushered her to the back entrance of the stationed ambulance. “If you could please get in so we can check your vitals and make sure you’re okay.” Seeing the confusion on Bee’s face, he further explained. “It’s fine, the logistics company is covering hospital costs for this incident.”

“No. No.” Bee shook her head quickly. “I’m fine. Really. I’m the best! Very healthy. I don’t think I’ve ever been better.” The words caused a strong dissonance with the blood on the side of her face and the way her smile took up almost half her face. “But thank you for the concern. I’ll be going now. Have to make up for the delays!”

Another paramedic blocked her path with a knowing look. “It’s for your safety and others, Miss. Please follow us for a mandatory checkup.” The lady just witnessed a human detonation. Tiny splinters of flesh was still matted against her hair. Her mental instability was obvious and who knew what would happen if she was left alone to ride on this high? They couldn’t have another casualty from the flight just because they weren’t attentive.

Bee’s polite smile stiffened. “I don’t need a checkup. If it’s necessary, I’ll do it later. It’s a low priority so- let me go!” Two paramedics restricted her by her arms while the driver guided them into the van. She kicked and twisted in their grasp, shaking her head in panic, speaking with an increasing sense of urgency. “Let me go! Let me go! I need to see honey! Honey’s waiting for me! Let me go!”

Dorle looked apologetically at the frantic passenger before shutting the ambulance doors. The lady would thank them later when she calmed down.

In the moving ambulance however, Bee was quite far from thankful. She thrashed violently after being strapped down to the stretcher. Her pulse raced, irises darting in all directions. Her chest rose and fell in short huffs, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out and she could only rely on whatever was left within to breath. Thus, she made loud, aggravated wheezing sounds. Her buns had loosened and one of her socks got torn during the struggle. Her hands and shoulders jerked in 2 second spasms as if being shocked by an open wire.

“She might be having an anxiety attack.” The paramedic, a new hire, that just went through hell strapping Bee down spoke quickly, wiping his sweat stained brow. He rose to look out the window, hoping to get to the hospital soon.

“I’ll administer a light dose of T4. ” The other paramedic pulled out a syringe, drawing from a bottle of the newly government approved tranquilizer used for insomniacs. “It won’t knock her out but she should be relatively calm. Just long enough till we get her to a doctor. Miss please stay still, this will help you relax-”

There was a choked noise before a loud thud.

The new hire frowned, bringing his attention back to the interior of the van. “What was that-”

WHACK!

Another loud thud.

Then silence.

The once chaotic, noisy van space was now quiet save for heavy breathing from Bee.

Her left ankle and wrist were twisted at odd angles, a result of forced dislocation to free herself from the bonds. The paramedic twitched quietly on the floor beside her, syringe forgotten beside him as his hair soaked in the growing pool of blood that stained her white shoes. A thin cross shaped blade was lodged right above his collarbone, slicing straight through the carotid so the blood loss was accelerated.

Bee squatted and slowly pulled the blade out of his neck with her free hand.

‘Ugh…” The new hire on the other side stirred in pain, groaning on the floor. The side of his face was already swollen from the impact of the oxygen cylinder. Notified, Bee rammed the heavy tank down his face. Repeatedly. Every hit adding a new splash of red to her face. It was only after the 7^th hit that the paramedic finally went silent.

“I told you.” Bee sniffed sadly, wiping the blood out of her aggrieved eyes. “I can’t be late.”

“Hey everything okay back there?” The driver up front called out. On getting no response, he frowned and hastily found a parking spot on the busy road. The moment he turned off the ignition, something tight wrapped across his windpipe. His face instantly grew red, hands flaying as his source of oxygen was brutally cut off. His hands flayed backwards, blindly reaching for the perpetrator to push them away but he only met empty air.

The driver’s body lurched forwards, flopping like a fish out of water, eyes bulging, veins popping and lungs constricting.

Silence returned to the ambulance a minute later.

Bee rose from her kneeling position, pulling her pink ribbon from the driver’s neck to retie her two buns.

The tune of the hymn, Nearer to Thee filled the van. Bee hummed the song serenely, dragging the body to the back and dumping it with the other corpses. She sat by the wheel and punched a new address in the maps feature.

Home.

She was going home.

‘Get a Valentine’s discount before the night runs out, dial xxx’

‘Premium chocolate with eau esssence for your special lady! Get limited edition. Only 10 left’

‘Wanna smell good for you man on the special day, get Marie’s delightful scent!’

Cheap ads filled the streets of the Capital Colony, illuminating a lonely van making it’s way uptown. The higher up the hill, the dimmer the lights, the scarcer the billboards and the higher the cost of passing vehicles. This little white and red van made a turn from the regular road to park in an obscure spot near an elite residential area, a covert spot known to only the architects of the estate.

Bee jumped out of the ambulance, the dead tree leaves cushioning the sound of her shoes. Northeast of her position was the 400 meter tall clock that centered the Capital City. It chimed twice.

10.30

Late. She was late.

There was a tight constriction in her throat. It was so terrible. The route the paramedics took. If only she went straight after the landing. If only. A part of her, the not very logical part wanted to run straight to her destination at this moment. Run to her honey. Arms wide open.

But there were pressing matters she couldn’t risk putting aside!

She shuffled to the back of the van where the windows were low enough to meet her face. Hurriedly, she fixed her clothing. The zip to her skirt was ripped during the struggle so she had to pull it up a bit and fold by the waist to make it presentable. Her sleeveless top had also been pulled down revealing a bit of cleavage. Immodest. Wrong. How impure it was show these parts of her to the innocent paramedics. She needs to apologize later. Always apologize.

Always.

When she was remorseful, they always let her out early. She didn’t understand that before so she had to stay in that dark dark room. But the keys were in her hands all alone. She was locking herself in. It was her fault.

‘I’m scared. It’s dark. And scary. And lonely. I don’t like this.’

A little girl reflected in the ambulance windows. Bee’s smile stretched wider, blinking until her older face returned.

One earring had fallen off so she removed the other one to make up for it. She used the back of her hand to wipe away the blood on her face. How odd. The blood under her eyes, right on her cheekbones was wet again. It smeared deeper into her skin, blending into the brown shade like a sort of blush.

Satisfied with the preening, she shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then spun on her toes, euphoric and excited to see the one who waited so long for her.

“Oh no!” She ‘d just started skipping away, bag slung over her shoulder when she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened, a bit horrified. How could she forget?! How could she forget this so so important thing?!

”I didn’t get a present!”

She’d been so focused on getting here on time that she didn’t bother stopping to get something good for Honey.

But all those ads showed subpar products. Nothing authentic. Nothing to show her genuine feelings. Nothing real.

“Real…” She whispered hoarsely, a sort of epiphany descending on her. The genius decision was made under a second. “Right. Right. That’s the best. That’s the best. Real. More real than anything else! Because this is real! What we have is real. It is.”

Bee reemerged in the van, eyes darting over the three bodies in serious contemplation. Finally, she picked the new hire with an unrecognizable face.

She sang happily, getting to work.

“Excuse my manners!“

Parting Hills was one of the highly sought after estates to live in. 90% of the Capital’s celebrities resided in this area. The entire 10 acres were built right after the forest that marked the end of the Capital’s border. This hill was thus seen as the beginning, end and center of the 1st Colony. Because of its fame, the roads leading to residential areas and homes were built discreetly for only the house owner to identify and not get lost.

A maze to outsiders, a home to the elite.

Bee didn’t come from a classy background. There was a time the convent was too wretched that they had to mash their leftovers, mix it in a lot of water and drink as meals for a month.

But she wasn’t an outsider either.

Would an outsider find her home in under 3 minutes? No. Exactly.

The two-storey bungalow, similar to every other house in the estate had only the master’s room by the second floor illuminated. It didn’t matter that the pole beside the balcony was so slippery, she had to clamp her thighs around, the friction burning her skin. It didn’t matter that half her joints were still dislocated and her core continuously twisted from the tension of the upwards crawl. It didn’t matter that so much salty sweat made her vision too wonky so she had to shut her eyes to concentrate. It didn’t matter that she was just a little bit tired.

Just a little.

None of it mattered in the face of love.

5 minutes and 49 seconds later, she climbed over the corridor of the bungalow’s balcony. The doors were open, an expectant invitation. The room was lit a faint glow from the scented candle, illuminating a figure writing over the beside table.

This figure, a woman clad in a white silk robe, her flowy white hair simmering just past her waist with skin the same shade as the flame. This image ignited a burning hearth in Bee’s heart.

“Honey,” She gasped out, breathless from the climb up. “I’m home.”

This was the moment she’d been waiting for. For so long, longer than ever, long before she learnt what it meant to feel, she dreamed for this moment. When her most important person in the world would turn, dark emerald eyes glistening with surprise and excitement. Excited to see her. So so happy.

The woman’s shoulder’s however, stiffened. Her body turned ever so slowly, as if wound by a gear. The woman took in this new appearance in her home. Took in the person in torn bloodied clothes, the stench of something sinister emanating from them. Her eyes widened, not in surprise, not in shock but in pure unbridled terror.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The lady toppled over her chair, scrambling back to the wall for safety, grabbing onto a forgotten throw pillow, a feeble attempt for protection.

Bee’s smile stayed in place despite a low churning in her stomach. “Shhh.” She whispered after the blood curling scream. “It’s okay. It’s just me. Bee. It’s me Bee, Honey.” When the woman on the ground remained in her trembling and mute state, Bee shifted on her feet nervously. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m late. You’re mad because I’m late right? I know I promised. I promised.”

After the initial scare, some clarity returned to the woman. “What?”

“My letters. You read them right? I sent so many to you, Honey.”

“Who are you?” Honey shivered, confused and scared. Goosebumps visibily covered her arms. “How did you get past security- Security!” Just remembering that option, she screamed as loud as she could for help. “Security! There’s an intruder! Help! Someone broke into my house! She’s crazy! A crazy woman is in my home! Somebody please help me! HELP!”

The smile on Bee’s face seemed plastic. “….Intruder?” Crazy. “No no no not an intruder. I’m not an intruder.” Her hands tapped against her chest repeatedly. “I’m your fan. The greatest. The only. The first. I-I was your first subscriber! Me. The first to send you a stream gift. Bee. Bee. Remember? ‘I’m the honey and you’re the bee’. You told me that 5 years ago when you reached you first 100 subscribers!” One trembling hand went up to a bun to yank at it mechanically. “I sent so many mails. Many handwritten letters. But you never answered. You never answered. So I sent some more. You were busy right? It’s fine. It’s okay. I know how hard you work. I’ve watched it all. That’s why I sent all my money. I-I mean it wasn’t exactly mine but I got it for you. I did it for you. I did it all for you. So you can work less. So we can spend our time together more.”

During her monologue, Honey kept tapping at a button at the corner of the wall. It was supposed to be an emergency alarm, sending alerts to the security team. But it was so quiet, save for her heavy breathing. It wasn’t working. No one came.

No one is coming.

Seeing the frantic action, Bee smiled brighter than ever before. They say acandle burns brightest before it goes out. “You’re upset. I knew you’d be. So I got you a present. A real good one.” Excitement shone in her soft brown eyes as she unzipped her bag. Humming a dramatic beat, she did a little tap dance before pushing her hands forwards. “Tada!”

Sitting right in her palms was a bleeding, beating heart the size of a clenched fist. The moonlight and candlelight fell on this spasming organ from opposing directions as if it were a presentation at an exhibition.

“I got you a heart. For Valentine’s! A real one. I did good.” Thick blood oozed from the deflated, deoxygenated body part. It dripped from her hands down to her elbow before staining the floor in heavy drops of black. “Tell me I did good, Honey. Please.”

“Please.” Quiet sobs erupted from the other side. “Please don’t kill me.” Honey was sobbing. Hard. “I’ll give you anything. Just go away. Leave me alone. I don’t want to die.” Her voice, once reproachful and loud, now weak and tiny.

“What?”

“Go away!”

Bee who always held a bright smile, a hopeful gaze and a cheerful tone flinched.

The plastic was melting.

“No…no that can’t be right.” She staggered a few steps back, dazed. Her head shook slowly. “There’s no way my honey would say that. We- we’ve come a long way. I showed it all to you. I- we were- you’re the only one that ever understood me. There’s no way you’d say that to me. Yes.” Despite her adamant denial, her voice was tiny, tiny and weak, so tiny it could’ve been mistaken for a sob.

Somewhere, stuck in the whirlpool of time was a younger Bee hunched by the corner of a dark room, rocking back and forth, muttering absolute nonsense in latin to fill the silence of the void. And that one. That version was definitely crying.

“Stay away! Go back! Security!” Honey’s face was blanched with terror. This psychopath was stumbling towards her, a twisted ankle and a bleeding heart in hand. The shadows from the candle casta looming picture reminiscent with a devil straight from her nightly horrors. “Please.” Her voice broke, her chest tightened. The air in her lungs had turned to clogged smoke. But this monster won’t disappear. It just grew bigger and bigger, it’s head rearing to bite off hers in one swift chomp.

In one last attempt of self preservation, she flung herself towards her door. She would run down the corridor, get out of the house and cry for help. Someone would definitely come for her. She was a famous streamer. Everyone would recognize her. She just, she just had to get out of here. Yes. The door. She left it unlocked. Just one swift pull. She remembered it so clear-

Clink.

Locked.

It was locked.

How was that possible?

It wasn’t possible. It made no sense. No sense at all.

She turned the lock. It didn’t budge. The second nor the third time. So she kept pulling. And pulling and pulling, yanking at the door handle violently, knowing every second, this demon like entity was creeping closer and closer. Her entire body shook with fear, sweat soaking her nightgown. One more time. One more time and she would be free. Safe. She had to escape. She was going to be killed. She had her whole life agead of her. She needed to run. Run!

The handle broke.

Honey crumbled to her knees, still as a lake.

Finally so so still.

“You weren’t trying to run away from me were you?” Bee stopped right behind her, lashed trembling with unshed tears. “Don’t leave me. Please. Don’t be mad. Don’t be sad. I’ll do anything. Okay? Just look at me. Please? I need someone to finally look at me.”

Silence.

“Honey?”

Outside Parting Hills, Mandible Road, House No.2, the central city clock chimed thrice.

There was a smell. A rotting scent only people like Bee could pick up. A scent that only existed for those that lived with the dead for longer than they were alive.

“No. No no no no no.” Bee fell to the floor, turning Honey by her shoulders. This Honey stared at her not with horror nor fear. Not with confusion nor despair.

But with nothingness.

The light had long left her eyes.

The face she was only able to see through a screen. Through a video she looped over and over again, the light from the tiny screen reflecting in her wide hungry eyes.

She just wanted to be seen.

The eyes she craved for so long were looking right through her now.

“No don’t do this to me. I’m sorry okay?” She shook Honey’s shoulder hard, again and again, so hard her head moved like those cheap ragdolls advertised on the billboard. The motion was far too familiar, causing her to jerk away from Honey.

The corpse toppled to the floor without much grace.

Bee’s iris trembled. Giant drops of tears spilled out of her eyes that were so widened, it seemed they were going to roll out of its sockets. Her lips quivered for only half a second before she broke into a pit of pain filled sobs.

“No. My Honey. My sweet sweet Honey.” She crawled, pathetic and pitiful to the side of the sleeping beauty that was cursed never to wake up. “It’s okay. I’m going to fix this.” The sadness in her eyes slowly faded to be replaced by frenzied delirium. ”I’m going to fix you.”

She raised the long dead heart to her lips.

And took a big chomp.

The meaty flesh was too thick. She had to gnaw again and again, the skin of her lips breaking as she raked her teeth over and into the heart, biting down with everything left in her, with all the emotions that had nowhere to go to. The veiny surface scraped against her tongue like sandpaper, her saliva mixing with iron and sulphur, altering her taste buds forever. When the barrier broke, so did her right molar. It hung to the side, weakly attached to her bleeding gum. Her index finger pushed through the tight opening. She yanked harshly with her jaw and hand, blood bubbling out, washing the ripped out tooth down her throat. In it’s wake, a hole was left behind, organ, teeth and soul.

Her shoulders shook with fatigue as she made work of prying Honey’s lips open with her healthy hand, digging into the sides of her face to keep the quickly stiffening jaw apart. Her dislocated hand gripped the rotting heart over the parted lips and squeezed with all its might, digging her long sharp nails into its sides. Her hands trembled. Trembled so much from the forced gift that was the day and the punishment that was the night. Some of the blood spilled over Honey’s grayed face. But she kept squeezing, this pitiful revival liquid flowing down the dead woman’s throat.

She squeezed until her arms gave up.

But the light in Honey’s eyes never came back.

Bee slowly pulled her hand away and sat by the corpse’s side. She caressed the face she’d seen countless times on the screen. She spoke softly.

I gave you a precious gift.

You did not accept it.

Not in life.

Not in death.

On the other side of the Capital City, up at the highest point of the Saints’ Hotel, this scene between Bee and Honey played out on a 70 inch wide screen.

A woman, dark brown hair stopping just before her shoulders stood before the screen, hands folded behind her white lab coat. A black tinted monocle covered her right eye. However, the left, a deep bottomless filthy black gazed at Bee’s grieving figure.

This gaze was so intrusive, so imploring, so obsessive it was as if it wished to drill through Bee’s skull and reside there, growing spindles and attacking itself to the crevices of her brain to breed monitoring parasitic spires.

Behind this woman was a body, hanging from the ceiling. The noose wound around the thin emasculated neck, so tightly it seemed the corpse head was about to pop right off it’s neck. The body swung in the air , just like a clock’s pendulum, as if a timer had started.

Her white gloved hand pressed against the left of her lab coat and parted lips exhaled a revelation.

“Now this is interesting.”

COMPLETE GENESIS TRILOGY HERE

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