The Passion House

XIII

“What makes you think that you’re great, huh? You must just be tweaking your stories to make you a victim! Your works are not even that great anyway! You are nothing now but a passe! You should have been the one who is dead!” I see all the pain in his eyes as my body begs for air while his hands' grip on my throat grows stronger. “I wonder why my sister even likes your books. I wonder why Yohanne did her best to line up for you when you did not even show up a month ago. You don’t deserve all the love of your fans when you could not even save them now!”

“We shouldn’t have listed to you and just died there inside the Iodestone! Everyone is just dying anyway. No one even knows if we die in reality or not! But this pain is so real! My sister died in my arms feels so real! I do not deserve this nightmare you have put us in!” My tears are streaming like waterfalls on my face as Steven lets out all his anger on me. Steven is so strong that he lifts my body with just one hand. Any moment now, he definitely will break my neck away. I have no strength to stop him, too. What he says must be saying is true. Everything has only happened now that I am with them. Everything must be my fault.

I must be cursed...

I deserve to die...

I only want to be happy...

But is wanting it being greedy?

I let myself surrender in his grasp.

My mom...

I don’t know where she is now...

She must be dead...

We would not have gone here if not for me...

I... 

I must have been the one...

Who killed her...

I close my eyes.

It is all my fault.

“Hey, Dude,” I feel another hand go on top of mine. Steven’s grip loosens, too. “It is no one’s fault, okay?” Steven lets go of me as I fall to the ground gasping for air. He brushes his hand on his hair and starts pulling it. “We are all just victims here,” Harris’ demeanor tries to calm Steven down. However, the latter continues to stay agitated, Yeah, right, Amy, too much for being soft. 

“YOU!” Steven pushes Harris on his chest, “WHY ARE YOU SIDING WITH HER?!” He pulls Harris’ collar. “You’re best friend is dead! My sister is dead! How can you be so calm and side with her?!” He points at me menacingly. “We have been your friend for more than four years, Harris! FOUR YEARS! Yet you only met her NOW!” Steven goes back to where he has been earlier. Harris follows him and puts his hand on Steven’s shoulder.

“You are a reasonable person, Steven. We all know that Amy has nothing to do with this.”

Steven stays silent. What could he be thinking?

“I am being calm because one of us needs to be level-headed right now,” I hear Harris tell him. “It’s no use for me to be angry or all of us will go down the drain, together.”

“It just feels so unfair, Harris,” I follow behind them and I almost freak out to see Stacey’s lifeless body on the top of the steel table. She lies there like she is only sleeping. I’m amazed about how Steven has carried his sister out of the ruckus earlier and brought her here with us. “It seems like I am the only one who’s hurting and feels too affected in all of these.”

Stacey...

I fall down on the floor as I control my sobs. My legs gave out from all the fear and guilt that has been accumulated from everything that has happened prior to this. 

“Your pain is valid, Steve. At least, one of us needs to mourn for them. I will be the one who will do the thinking so you do the crying for now.” Harris pats Steven’s shoulder and they both share a man-hug.

“I mean, eew, bro, but I really do need a hug,” Steven jokes and they both chuckle.

Stacey’s feet have now turned black because the pitch-black matter has touched it earlier like a beautifully matted mannequin foot in contrast to all of her porcelain-like glowing skin. What could have happened if Steven has left her there? She would be unrecognizable.

It’s all my fault...

I hear footsteps coming towards me and a pair of black and white vans sneakers emerges in my vision. I look up and try to stay away from Steven when I meet his eyes. I admit that the anger and resentment I have seen from them earlier is no longer present now. He squats to meet me and looks down. “Please forgive me, Amy. I did not mean to do it. I guess I needed someone to take all the blame. I am really sorry because I have poured it all out on you. You are a great person, yourself. I honestly even have a whole collection of your book in the whole corner of my library.” He raises his eyes to meet mine again. “I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven and I know I am being selfish right now. But I want you to know that I did not mean anything that I have said earlier. You do not deserve to hear those words, especially from me. I have been so insensitive to your pain as they have become your friends, too, and you might have lost your mother. I’m sorry.”

“I also want to acknowledge that you’ve only wanted to do your best to leave this place just like how we do. I really appreciate your efforts,” I am curled up like a hopeless puppy right in front of him. I admit that I am scared of him right now. “But sadly it didn’t work. But I realized that it was a force beyond what we can control.”

“You should be mindful with your words next time,” I tell him. “but I understand, Steve. I have felt your grief. For that, because of what you did, I realize something...” and an idea comes to my mind. “I am both grateful, and thankful because you have shown me that I have the right to be angry right now. That I should stop acting like everything is fine when it is not.”

Steven eventually smiles at me genuinely as he starts to understand what I am saying, “You being angry made me realize that I can be angry, too, with you. We don’t deserve what is happening. That with this realization, we might get through this. That we might actually be able to devise a plan.”

“So are we friends now?”

“We are friends, Steve. It hasn’t been cut off,” and I let him hug me. We need this in this tough time. I have never felt someone’s comfort such as how these people have given me.

*Blob

We hear a soft thing fall on the floor in the silence in this room. Slowly, I gather my strength to stand up as Harris walks towards it with a hush sign in his fingers. What could it be? Are there other survivors lurking in this, room, too?

Steven and I tiptoe in following Harris. We don’t want to aggravate the perpetrator. Right around the farthest corner, at the end of the pile of steel racks lies a white cloth on the ground and a full-length mirror lies reclined on the white wall behind it. We go near it. As usual, we don’t see ourselves reflected in it. What is this?

It must be a rat. It must have tripped on the white cloth to reveal this empty mirror.

Slowly, the white faint smokes emerge on it.

Are they finally hearing us?

Gosh! Why are they standing over there? Can they see us?

Guys, it’s been so hard to work on that cloth, give me back some energy, please.

We look around. Three voices linger inside the room. Two are from women and one is from a man. What is going on?

“Hey, guys, where are you looking at?” 

Confusion envelopes the room. Harris, Steven, and I exchange glances. Where did those voices come from?

“Yuhoo! We’re down here!”

“We’re in the mirror!”

We look back to the mirror and find three white shadows flying and are being reflected on it until it eventually forms ghostly appearances of three people. We are astounded.

“Finally, we have finally gotten your attention!” One of the women’s ghosts exclaims.