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Chapter 21: Aftermath

  “Have you ever seen a ghost before?” The monk said to me.

  “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

  “Why not?” He had brewed some pu-erh tea today. It was brown and smelled like fish. I’d rather have that bitter green tea over this. “We all have four ghosts attached to us, you know?”

  “What? You have killed four people?”

  “Ha ha! I didn’t mean it like that.” His round belly shook from the laughter. “One, the ghost of aggregates. Two, the ghost of delusions. Three, the ghost of the Lord of Death. And four, the ghost that is the son of God.” He blew on his cup before taking a sip.

  “I think you listed the wrong names halfway through.” I didn’t take him for reading such books.

  “My personal favorite is the ghost of Death. Do you know why?” He smiled. “A person that does not believe in the ghost of Death does not believe in death itself. And a person that does not believe in death itself has no understanding of life itself. With no understanding of life, it becomes impossible for them to attain enlightenment. Ask yourself, would a dying person still need praise, music, money and whether things went poorly or not?”

  “I see,” I said in reply.

  “How about it, makes sense right?”

  “Not really.” I thought of my mother, what ghost had taken over her? “Then what about real ghosts?”

  “Those exist too of course.” He smiled again. “Why do you think food is always offered on the altar?”

  ***

  Victoria and Gale watched their daughter collapse from her own wails and sobs. They had initially intended to only ask her why she was gone from her room that night, but emotions were hard to predict and Victoria’s had reached its peak. How could she maintain her cool when her daughter came back soaked in rain and dirt? What was she even doing out there?

  However none of that concerned them anymore. Esther had babbled something nonsensical between her sobs. Sobs which came out of nowhere.

  Victoria didn’t even get the chance to ask why she was outside, when her daughter’s body suddenly trembled and fell to her knees. Begging. She was begging, saying she was sorry. But why? Esther had always been the apple of their eye. Nothing she did would warrant her to be sorry about.

  Holding his limp daughter in his arms, Gale thought she weighed too little. Add onto her past history of illnesses, and they couldn’t help but love their pitiful daughter. She had never complained, not even a grumble, and always did what was asked of her. It continued even after she lost her memories.

  A part of her nature, they thought. However, seeing the terrified face when Victoria yelled at her, they knew something was wrong. Not normal.

  Oh Goddess. Whatever did our daughter do to deserve this? Victoria recalled that time when Esther had screamed and cried in front of the Goddess. It was the first time she saw Esther behave like that. It wasn’t normal at all.

  Now in her bed, Victoria stroked her sleeping daughter’s hair. Small bits of twigs and leaves were stuck to it. A seed of guilt grew in Victoris as she plucked them all out.

  There had been no need to yell at her. She was old enough to know what she had done wrong by herself. But Victoria had to, just this once. And the result had become this.

  Her shoulders warmed up as Gale draped a blanket around her.

  She grasped her husband's hand. “What do you think she meant?”

  “I’m not sure, but she didn’t look to be in the right state of mind.”

  “The thing that happened in Barre and now this… I can’t help but worry, Gale.”

  “I know.” He hugged her head.

  “She’s still only a young girl, but so much has already happened to her.”

  He gave her head a kiss. “We just have to do what we always do.”

  “What if she loses her memory again? She had just begun to look happier… What did the physician say again? A sickness of the mind?” Victoria prayed that it wasn’t that.

  “Let’s not think about it anymore. We just need to care for her like always. It’s just a simple fever.”

  “You’re right…” A simple fever. Their daughter was sweating profusely in her sleep. But it was only a simple fever.

  Gale stood vigil watching over his wife and daughter. They had both fallen asleep, one in bed, and the other on the couch he carried her to. He thought himself lucky to have such a beautiful family, yet it seemed like the world didn't agree, always turning against them.

  Back in Barre, he had furrowed his eyebrows when Esther told him that she didn’t like the statues of the Goddess. Thankfully, she said it in their home as it was a blaspheme comment, coming from his own daughter herself.

  However he couldn’t help but agree inwards with his daughter’s words. If the Goddess was as benevolent as they preached, why didn’t she show their family, their daughter a single ounce of it?

  Gale thought of the times when they visited the church together. Esther, without fail, would always frown whenever she stepped into the building, and on rare occasions, he could even see her glaring at the statue while grinding her teeth. It was a total opposite of her expression earlier that night.

  He had never seen such a bright smile from his daughter. She even called him dad, something she hadn’t done for a long time.

  Gale didn’t want to admit it, but it was eerie. It bothered him. Not a single child would be smiling in that situation. Especially when he investigated the church where another mana trail was leading him.

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  He let out a heavy sigh. Perhaps the physician was right.

  ***

  My body ached. Don’t tell me I died again? But the nailing pain shooting from my right hand made me grimace back to reality.

  The sight reminded me of the beach I visited once. Feeling the sand beneath my socks, I listened to the ocean waves crashing into the rocky banks. It sounded serene, and peaceful. Even quieting my noisy thoughts that day. Buzzing like a bee.

  Each time the tide ebbed and flowed, small rolling dunes were created in the sand. Like a body of a worm, the surface zig-zagged under my feet. It looked qrotesque. Disgusting. It broke me free from my peaceful mood staring out to sea and made the bees come back.

  I put my shoes back on. The shoes I had foolishly laid on the edge of the beach pointing to the deep waters.

  I didn’t want to swim in that cold water anymore. So I walked back home in wet, soppy shoes.

  Mother didn’t say anything when she saw me come in that day.

  Turning my head to the side, sitting on a chair like always, mom’s sleeping visage greeted me. The sun was brightening the room and her hair but it still felt chilly. Goosebumps popped up on my arms where the blanket didn’t reach.

  Sigh... I had done it again, I made her sleep like that again. What even happened yesterday? My head throbbed whenever I thought about it.

  A cool feeling grazed the bottom of my toes as I slid them off the bed. It tickled. Wooden grains caressed my feet while I took a moment to prepare myself to stand. And something let out a soft thump as my butt felt those very same wooden grains

  “Huh?” I had collapsed it seems like.

  “Hmm…” Stirring to life, my mom stretched her arms towards the ceiling. I flinched for some reason seeing her hand above me.

  “Oh! What are you doing on the floor?” Her blanket flew off as she raced toward me.

  “Mom, did you get stronger?” She had lifted my whole body back on the bed. I sat on the edge and looked at her.

  Her smile was gentle as always. “Your mother is always strong, you know?”

  “Where’s father?”

  “Do you want me to go fetch him?”

  “No, it's okay… Uhm, what happened yesterday?”

  She cocked her head. “Yesterday? Nothing worth mentioning happened yesterday." What did she mean? "Oh, now I remember, we went to the opera house. Wasn't it such fun?”

  Opera house? A whooshing sound rang in my ears as my heart accelerated, pumping its warm blood throughout my cold body.

  I asked her, “Where’s Alice?”

  She patted my head. “Oh my, are you still sleepy? She took a vacation last week.”

  Last week? That’s impossible. I killed her yesterday. She should be dead. Dead people don’t take vacations do they? The timeline didn’t even match up. And why did she mention an opera house? Maybe she would still be hanging–

  “Good morning miss! How are you feeling today?” The braided hair maid caught sight of me in the hallway.

  “I feel fine…”

  She crossed her arms. “A person that says they feel fine never feels fine, miss." She reached into her pocket. "Want some candy?”

  “I really feel fine.” Besides the aches and the occasional wobbling legs, I truly felt fine. There were more important things to think about. A sour taste filled my mouth, it was lemon candy today.

  “Miss, you don’t need to listen to her nonsense.” The maid with the beauty mark leaned in closer. “By the way, she hates lemon candy.”

  “Ah, Melisssa! How could you spill my secrets in front of our adorable miss!”

  She shrugged. “Just telling the truth is all.”

  Enough.

  “Have you two seen Alice?” I asked them.

  “Don’t even get me started.” I turned my ears towards the bubbly maid. “How could she ask for a vacation at this time of the year, not only that, sir Alden agreed! Oh, the injustice us plain maids feel in our daily life.”

  “Quiet your laments, girl. These vases won’t dust themselves off.”

  A week. Seven days. No, it was the middle of the week so that means.

  Did I really sleep for that long? But that doesn't make sense, the maid asked how I was today, and mom said.

  She wouldn’t say that if I was sleeping for days, right? My goddess, what did you do to me? I hurried my steps on the rough carpet.

  “Oh, you look more energetic today, little miss. Had us worried there for a second!” The cook laughed with gusto.

  Today, he said it too.

  “Look here, I finally found it again.” He pulled out the locket he would always wear. “It was in my drawer this whole time, can you believe it?” No, I could not. Alice had stolen that very same locket.

  “Alice? My apologies but I haven’t seen her since that storm hit us. Why, my ears are still ringing from all the lightning. Someone must have really upset the Goddess for her to send so many of them.”

  I went to the garden. It was spotless. Not a single leaf littered the grass. Not a single footprint could be seen. A vivid image of several knights running around in the rain filled my head.

  Was that all a dream? I don’t think trampled grass grew back this quick.

  I spotted the gardener pruning the bushes as if my thoughts didn’t matter. “I knew young people these days were different, but how could she ask for a vacation after that mess of a storm?” Okay, so the storm did happen?

  “The destination for her vacation? I’m afraid I don’t know such details. Do you want me to ask sir Alden? Did you know we have been friends for decades. It all started when–”

  Everyone was saying the same thing. Alice had taken a vacation last week. The storm happened last week too, yet they all acted as if I had been walking around for the last few days.

  Why can’t I remember? Why? I stepped on the wildflowers growing between the tree roots.

  The abandoned church still looked abandoned. Not a single thing was different about the gray building. Vines were still consuming the crumbling brick wall. Holes stood in the same places as before. And the statue was still standing there in the middle of it all.

  But it was gone. Where her body should be hanging, it was gone. Did I really kill her? Had she somehow survived? I didn't have time to proceed the next step in my plan.

  Did someone find her body?

  My knees collapsed to the cold mossy carpet.

  “Did you do this?” I glared at the statue. She wasn’t smiling this time.

  “What are you looking sad for? I should be the one being sad! The nerve you have to not only mess with my plans again but now also my head?! Who are you to do that!”

  “Where is she? Where did you hide her!” A drop of morning dew stained the woman’s cheek.

  I scoffed. “Are you really crying right now? Who gave you permission to do that! You have the gall to cry in front of me?!”

  The wind rustled.

  “Don’t say that. I am not insane. Where is Alice? She should be dead right here!”

  I picked up the stone I had been unconscionably gripping. And threw it at her.

  “Stop getting in my way!”

  A voice called out my name in the wind. Ridiculous. The statue actually replied.

  “Esther, you shouldn’t be here.” I whipped my head around.

  “Father?” Did he hear me? “W-what are you doing here?” I found myself falling backwards.

  “That’s what I should be asking you.” His eyes were devoid of the usual warmth. Ah, I should run away.

  I tried to crawl away from him. “I can’t believe you returned back here even after what happened.”

  My legs wouldn’t move. His aura was oppressive.

  “I know what you tried to do, I even had lie to your mother.”

  I was reminded of the play Eric and Karrie had taken me to that one time. Especially the ending. Just like that pitiful woman, would I too be hanged? I wonder which hurt more, that or being shot again.

  My voice came out warbled. “I don’t know what you mean?”

  “You don’t need to hide it from me.” He took a step closer. His figure towering over me.

  “Esther.” He grabbed my shoulder. Oh, this was the end.

  “It’s not your fault, no one can stop a person willing to forsake their own life. You must have felt devastated.”

  … What?

  His face was full of concern, the corners of his eyes shrunk into themselves as he pulled me into an embrace. I could hear his heart pump under his clothes.

  “It must have been horrible seeing someone take their own life like that.”

  The air felt refreshing as it blew gently on my bangs. Peeking over my father’s shoulder I saw the Goddess looking down at us.

  So that was the reason she was crying. I had really won.

  My body trembled as I tried to conceal the rising laughter. “Are you cold?” He asked.

  Thank Goddess that he couldn’t see my face at this moment.

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