Corpse Flower

I. Ancestral World

Sophia’s POV:

It was an understatement to say life sucks.

I grabbed the note from the fridge and a red apple from the counter. Once my backpack dropped on the ground, I took a bite of the fruit. “Sorry for leaving you on your birthday. I have an important meeting to attend, but we’ll celebrate tonight. Promise. Love, Jake.”

I swallowed the content inside my mouth and took another bite. I wasn’t surprised to see the note. My older brother, Jake, had always been a busy man. But, it didn’t bother me. Jake and I aren’t exactly on close terms. When I was ten, our parents got divorced. Jake went with dad and I went with mom.

“Soph?” I turned the counter chair to see a head peeking out from the corner of the room.

I finished the rest of my apple and threw it away. “What is it?” I can see a blanket near his feet.

Steadily, Arlo revealed the wet blanket. The moment I exhaled, he withdrew it. His head cast down and he bit his lower lip harshly. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t tell Jake.”

I stood up and made my way towards Arlo. Before I grabbed the blanket, I hit his head softly. “I told you to stop drinking so much juice before you sleep. You never listen.”

Arlo’s small feet stumbled after me. “I promise I won’t do it again.” That line again. No matter how many times I heard it. It never happens. Arlo always drinks two cups of apple juice before he sleeps.

I folded my sleeve and pants upward before squatting down. With the water turned on, I scrubbed the blanket. “Did you have that nightmare again?”

Arlo nods, “Yes.” He held onto his shirt. “Do you think Jake will hit me again?”

“It’s my birthday,” I said. “He won’t do it on our birthdays.”

Arlo smiles, “That’s right!” How sad. To get excited over such trivial things.

“Your six already. You shouldn’t wet your bed,” I said.

Arlo is my younger half brother from dad’s side. Around two years after my parent’s divorce, dad got remarried and had Arlo.

“If mom was here. She-”

“Well she isn’t here,” I said. I know my words are cruel, but Arlo needs to hear it. If he mentions it in front of Jake, birthday or not, Jake will go ballistic.

Arlo held firmly onto his shirt, “I...I know.”

“If you know, then why are you mentioning her? Stop it. She’s dead.”

Three years ago, Arlo’s mom got raped and hanged herself. Jake was the one who found her. The one who raped Arlo’s mom was our mom. Mom killed herself before her trial. Dad drank himself to death. He got hit by a car when he was drunk.

After the funerals, Jake took me in. It wasn’t a bad deal. I was seventeen at the time and needed a guardian. Jake needs someone to watch Arlo. He couldn’t abandon him after what our mom did to his mom.

Least to say, our family line isn’t ideal.

At the time, Jake was only twenty, still in college. Because of the circumstances, he had to drop out and work to take care of us. Our inheritance was barely enough to keep us afloat. Reality says life insurance is difficult to claim when your parents decide to kill themselves.

And because of the stress, Jake sometimes gets physical. He wouldn’t beat us to death, but he did slap us a few times. Lately, he hadn’t been doing it as much. Mostly, it’s because I took up a part-time job and handed him a large portion of my paycheck for the bills.

If someone were to know about our situation, they would tell me to leave him. After all, I am twenty. But-

“Here,” I said. I hand him the wet blanket. “Throw it in the washer.”

If I leave, then who would watch Arlo?

Arlo nods vigorously, and with his small legs, he rushes toward the washing machine. I watched as he threw the wet blanket inside along with the dirty clothes. With all his muscles, he poured in the detergent and turned on the washing machine. I had to watch him carefully. The first time he tried to wash his own clothes, he spilled the liquid all over the floor. He got two slaps from Jake for being wasteful.

While he stared at the washing machine glass, I made my way into his bedroom and cleaned the mattress. I need to get off the yellow stain. After I finished, Arlo was ready to go to school. His elementary school is three blocks away.

“Do you have everything?” I ask.

He nods, “Backpack. Extra clothes. Lunch. Homework. Umbrella.”

I pat his head, “Good job.”

Arlo grabbed my hand and we head out of the house. My eyes waiver around the sky. The clouds that were white earlier in the morning were now darker than ever. I guess the weatherperson is right about the rain later. The longer we walked in the streets, the more intense the states became.

The street we live in is filled with stay-at-home moms. They live by the code of brunch, yoga, and gardening. The simple life.

When our eyes meet, the whispers take a halt and they look away. Without talking to them, I know what they’re whispering about. It’s nothing I want Arlo to hear.

The stories about our families were broadcast to the whole nation.

Long story short and a nice way of putting things. They think our family is weird. Weird and pitiful. But, all because they pity us, it doesn’t mean they want their children to be near us.

“Are you okay?” Arlo asks. He’s aware. He shouldn’t. A kid his age shouldn’t be so concerned about his surroundings, but he is. After all, how long can you turn a blind eye towards those nauseating looks around you?

I smile, “I’m fine. And you?”

Arlo nods, “Superfine!” He closes the distance between us.

Whenever Arlo does this, I wonder how he would react when he finds out what my mom did to his mom. Would he still lean against me as he does now? Or will he only look at me with pure disgust? How I ruined his life.

Of course, if I told people how I feel. They would tell me to stop it. To stop blaming myself. But, how can I not blame myself? I was the one who convinced mom to get closer to Arlo’s mom. At the time, it felt like a good idea.

I wasn’t asking for my parents to get back together. I only wanted my mom to go out and talk to other people. Mom is an introvert. She would always work, clean, and sleep. Arlo’s mom was the opposite. She was always bright and loves talking to people.

Maybe, I should’ve left things alone and allowed mom to continue to be her isolated workaholic self.

With each step I took, my heart only felt heavier. The wind brushed past us and nearly blew me over. There’s a rush of screams from the children and adults around us. It’s autumn. It should be cold, but not this cold.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Arlo tugged on his hood and nodded, “Okay.”

When we reached the front of the school, I went down on my knees. “Remember.”

He smiles, and with the hood, his face seems fatter. “Do not follow strangers. Scream if strangers grab me. If someone bullies me, I must tell you. If I get hurt, tell the teacher. After school, I have to wait next to a teacher. Even if someone looks like you show up, I must not follow until I see your whole face.”

I exhale softly, “Good job, Monkey.”

Arlo rushes toward me for an embracement, “I love you.” When his mom passed, Arlo was three years old. Because she passed when he was still young, he barely remembered her. Jake took down all the pictures of the adults in our house, so Arlo never saw his mom’s face. Maybe, because of that, Arlo somehow sees me as his mother.

I held him close to my chest, “I love you too.”

“Arlo! Come on!” His friends screamed.

“Bye!” Arlo shouted.

I blew him air kisses and his smile only brightened. When he merges into his group of friends and goes into class, I exhale a light breath. “Have a nice day Monkey.”

After I dropped off Arlo, it was time to get ready for school. An hour later, I heard a car honk from outside. I scrambled all my papers into my backpack and went out. Two knocks against the glass of the car, Bailee unlocked the door.

Her nose twinkle, “Is that bleach?”

I smelled myself, “Do I smell like that?”

“Yes! I know each human has their own natural scent but isn’t this too much?” Bailee started the engine and drove us to school.

Bailee and I met when I moved into Jake’s and Arlo’s house. She used to be our neighbor, but they upgraded their house and moved into a better neighborhood. After we graduated from high school, we applied for the same college. As in, she applied for a bunch and I applied for the nearest one. Bailee got regrets from all of them except the only one I’m in. She doesn’t particularly care much for higher education. She’s only in college because her parents forced her to do something except stay at home and turtle herself all day. Bailee isn’t the brightest light bulb in the room, but she’s a nice person. She’s one of the fewer people who doesn’t care much for my background. Then again, she’s the type of person who doesn’t care much for anything.

“I had to clean the house.”

“Clean the house?” She made a turn. “There are more things to clean in that house?”

“Don’t give me that tone,” I said. “I cleaned your house last week.”

She glared at me playfully, “No one asked.”

“Your mom appreciated it.”

“This is why my mom has a high standard for all her kids. It’s you.” She points at me. “You come over. You bleach our house. You help my mom cook. You make me and my whole family look bad in every aspect. Heck. Last night, she asked me if we can adopt you!” Bailee started her tangents. A while back, she confessed that she talks a lot because she dislikes the silence. Bailee grew up in a household of four siblings so it’s always noisy. Only her oldest sister left the house, so it’s still noisy.

I laughed and shook my head towards every sentence that comes out of her mouth. When we reached school, I grabbed my backpack.

“Wait,” Bailee said. She grabbed an envelope from her backpack.

I exhale softly, “Bai. No. I thought we talked about this.”

“We did. But, my parents really appreciate everything you do around the house for us. Please, take it.” She shoves the envelope close to me.

I push it back, “Your parents basically provide food for my house. That’s enough.” I help Bailee’s parents because they would give us meals weekly to ensure we eat enough. That’s the reason why Arlo’s cheeks are so plump.

Bailee pushes it further towards me, “Mom knows you’re opening a college fund for Arlo.”

I gasp, “You told!”

“Yes! I told! You know I’m a talker. Why do you bother telling me stuff?” She glances away, “And in my defense, she overheard me talking to you over the phone.” Bailee grunted, “Please, take it before I cave and take it to go shopping! Please! Please! Please!”

“Okay. But, I’ll pay your parents back.” I took the envelope. I hate it when Bailee’s parents do this, but I know they meant well.

“Okay. When you’re a wealthy woman. You can take care of me.”

“I said: Your parents.”

“Yes. I heard. You’ll take care of me.” It must be nice to have selective hearing.

I gave her a lazy side glance, “You have no shame, do you?”

“What is shame?”

I laughed and got out of the car. I walked backward with Bailee beside me, “Why invest in me when you have-” I took a look to my right.

Bailee’s face twisted into the most disgusting features she could make. She grabbed my arm and scrambled us past the library. “Do not make eye contact with him. Do not acknowledge him. If you-”

“Bailee!”

“Did you make eye contact with him?” Bailee scorns me.

I shrugged, “What is eye contact?” I smiled when the tall young man appeared in front of me. “Hi, Reese.”

Reese smiles brighter than the sun, “Morning, Soph.” He turns his head, “Hey Bailee.”

Bailee avoided eye contact, “Hey Reese.” The tension between them didn’t bother me.

Reese tilted his head, “Look away any further and I’ll think you’re avoiding me.”

Bailee giggles, “Why would I?”

“Well, after what happened last-” Bailee covers Reese’s mouth. I stood there and pretended I didn’t hear anything while Bailee tugged Reese away. She told me she will see me after class for lunch. Bailee and Reese had been an on/off couple since they were in diapers. Yes. Diapers.

When I got inside the large classroom, I set my stuff down. I plugged in my headphones and reviewed my notes.

After some time, the professor walks in. He sets down his suitcase and hops onto the front desk. “Good morning student,” he said. Only low murmurs returned his greetings. His smile was still on his face. He’s used to this reaction. “Now, I believe you have all finished the assigned reading so we’ll jump into it. So much to learn and so little time to learn them all. How unfortunate.” He always starts the class with the same line.

I rest my cheek against my palm and tap the pencil against the desk. While the professor lectures, my eyes flicker towards the window. The clouds only got worse. Maybe I should message one of Arlo’s friends’ mom to pick him up and take him home instead of having him wait for me.

“Titan Arum,” the professor said. “Is said to be a mythical kingdom. But, I think otherwise. I believe the kingdom like many others did exist on Earth at one point.” He clicks the remote and the next slide shows a shady sketch of a kingdom.

“What?” a student said. “If it exists. Why is it not in our history book?”

“Ah.” The professor shook his finger towards the student. “You do not listen, do you?” He smiles, “I said: At one point did it exist on Earth?”

“So, it spread its wings and flew away with other kingdoms?”

The professor laughs, “Maybe.” The classroom laughs with him. I heard this professor had always been quite eccentric. “Or, maybe, the reason is something else.”

“Such as?”

The professor exhales, and clicks onto the next page. I wonder if he ever gets sick of teaching the same thing. “There was a folktale, about how long ago, so-called mythical creatures used to exist on the very spot you’re sitting.”

“I would like a dragon.” It’s the same student who continuously disrupts. He may seem like he’s forced here and his only method to cure his boredom is randomly outburst statements, but in truth, he does enjoy the class. I would see him staying after hours to talk to the professor. They’re close.

The professor shook his head, “You would’ve had one if your ancestor chooses to go through the portal.” The professor clicks the slide again. There are small chuckles rushing throughout the room. “It’s said that due to a large war, larger than WWI and WWII, before the time humans were fully developed. As in, our intelligence, our ability to think and make intelligent decisions.”

I have a thing or two to say about that.

“Different creatures rule over us. You all know these creatures fairly well.”

“You mean like vampires, werewolves, mermaids, and those things?” a girl asks.

“Exactly.” Another click. “And these mythical creatures were the ones who ruled over mankind. For them, we were nothing more than well, cows. Something to satisfy their hunger. Their thirst for dominance. They were us and, now, we are them.”

“And where exactly is the blood-sucking vampire?” someone else asked.

Yes. So, I can avoid them while walking in the streets.

“It’s said that during the war, this huge magical war. Earth was split into several worlds.”

“That makes no sense,” said someone.

“Take it like this.” The professor pulled out a quarter. “I have one-quarter right?” He did some magic trick and made the quarter turned into two dimes and a nickel. “What do I have now? You would say two dimes and a nickel, but I beg to differ. I have twenty-five cents. Nothing changed. I started with twenty-five cents and I ended the whole darn trick that I wasted three nights to learn with the same amount.”

“I still don’t get it.”

Me too sister.

“Okay. Let’s say. Earth was this quarter.” I need to learn the magic trick he’s doing. Arlo would love it. “But, because of magic.” He did it again. “We have three coins, equivalent to the same amount, but separated. That’s Earth during the war.”

“So, what you’re saying is that we’re the nickel, the lesser amount.” The professor threw the coins at the student who said that.

“Exactly. According to stories, the other two Earth, the dimes as you can see are the ones who inherited the magic meanwhile, ours...does not.”

Eccentric is an understatement for this man.

“But,” he said. He clicks to the next slide. It’s a dimmer picture than the rest. It’s a photo of two planets with a white linkage in between. “It’s rumored that around Earth there are still these things called bridges.” His eyes pinned with mine. “These bridges allow people like you and me, to cross and enter another part of our ancestral world.”