Tacenda

Tick - Tock! Tick - Tock! Tick - Tock!

The rhythmic sound was the only thing that disturbed the unsettling silence. But even it tended to fade away in the space of the living room, as if attempting to hide behind the sofa and the chairs, under the rack, over the window, behind the curtains…

I was getting distracted. The bluish laptop screen had worn out my eyes, the eyelids closing on top of them in an attempt to make me fall asleep. I would suddenly open them, my face towards the window on the right of me, realising that I had tried to take a break and fallen asleep for a little while. Concentration wasn’t something I came by with ease. Not anymore. My head was sliding off my hand, vision gliding over the same passage over and over again in hopes of understanding it. Charge cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred…

Creak. 

The sound echoed through the canals of nervous tissue inside me, small impulses getting the vibrations across. I felt my fingers getting colder, their tips—a bit reddish although I had put a blanket around me to keep warm. Electric force is much stronger than the gravitational force but works… 

Creak. 

The door to the balcony flew open, an air current sweeping through the small space. It’s nothing. I looked down at the pieces of paper beneath my elbows. Small splashes of blue ink sprinkled over the page like freckles. My toes twitched. Breathe. I scrolled down. Charging by induction: requires no contact between the object and the… 

Wail. 

I looked up the moment the light went out. Again!, I yelled in my mind recalling the past few nights when the electricity had stopped. It was pitch black. I stood up. We placed the flashlights on the fridge. Always. Holding one of the chairs for stability, I stretched my left hand. My index finger caught a strap and pulled it closer. Having a flashlight in my hand, I clicked the button on its back and illuminated the living room with it. Everything seemed in order—the orchids were blooming on the nightstand, the guitar left in the corner. 

Sobbing.

The sound stretched from the terrace, creating a series of loops upon entering. Quickly making it to the cupboard filled with cooking equipment, I rummaged through it to pull out a silver frying pan. Just close the door and go back to work. I swallowed. I remembered teasing my sister about her being afraid of the dark. I wouldn’t do that anymore.

I reached the balcony, my hands holding the pan high in case of an emergency. I looked out. 

A few steps back. 

A girl with long brown hair sat on the floor with her hands wrapped around her bent legs. She was shivering. 

Clank.

Having hit the bookshelf behind me, the pan vibrated in my hand. 

The girl looked up.

I stumbled. The floor crashed with my knees. Pain. 

“Aah,” I tried speaking, but my tongue was too heavy to move. 

“Well, well. ” A woman’s voice behind me. It sounded so loud yet seemed to be but a whisper away from me. I looked back. Nobody. “Afraid now, are we?” Wind passed by my right ear. My head snapped backward. Only the figure in front of me remained, still as if trapped in time, unmoving for the rest of eternity. A statue of sorrow, some might have said, considering the dripping tears that stood frozen in the air. A statue of horror, I corrected them.

“Failure, after failure, after failure.” The voice laughed. Vicious, cold. “Lack of drive, and concentration, lack of determination, lack of actual work.” Nails bit into my cheek, scratching it in a quick motion. I flinched. “Is that what you call ‘lack of time’?” The woman emphasized every syllable. I tried to stand up, but my legs refused to obey me. Although I could not see her, I felt as if the woman’s eyes were staring at me, in me, picking every piece of my mind apart. “Paralyzed?” She chuckled. “I guess that would be normal, seeing as you just encountered your future self.” My heart beat fast. I opened my eyes wider, scanning the room, but she wasn’t there. What is going on? “You are being enlightened, my dear Aya. You see, ” she began, “I am determined to save you a lot of trouble.” I could make out the outlines of something silvery, which was drawn out from what I could only assume had been a cape. 

You can never be good enough. 

The words flowed inside me, a charge that spread to the tips of my toes. They repeated over and over again, the shadows they had come from extending their tentacles, catching the tiny spots of sunshine I had left. It felt like frost spreading in my blood. I shivered.

Hungry, penniless, and alone.

My skin was on fire, sweat forming tiny streams racing downwards from my shoulders to the palms of my hands. My mind was occupied with my shaking limbs. I had forgotten to breathe. I tried to in an attempt to satisfy the burning sensation in my chest. I coughed. Again. Again, again… I can’t...breathe! I can’t… My hands darted at my throat, fingers frantically searching for what kept me from inhaling. My eyes stung.

So hopelessly alone.

The image of the girl emerged in front of me, her pale face, blank expression. Her hair—once reddish at the touch of sunlight—was thin, entangled, lackluster. Scars covered her arms, blood sipping them. Her body was skinny, bones almost visible under the stretched-out skin. Her eyes were dark, surrounded by shadows. She was staring in the distance, tears accumulating at the corners of her eyelids. She was quiet, broken. What are you looking at? What do you see? Even if asked, she would never reply. She couldn't anymore. 

Clatter.

The silver lay in my feet. I used my heel to push it towards me. A knife. I reached for it. The aching stopped. I moved my hand away. Lightning pain struck my abdomen. Something hot ran across my lips, the all-familiar taste filling my mouth. Coins. I glared at the knife. Everything would be over. I just had to pick the knife. Pick the knife and hold it against my skin. Everything will be over…

***

Aah…

I snapped out of my slumber. I lay on a window frame, my left leg swaying back and forth, my hands clasped together. It was dark. Stars blinked on the face of the blackened sky, freckles on the canvas brought upon by the late winter night. It was cold. Although February, snow refused to settle in the city, leaving only clouds of smoke and horrendous wind to roam its streets. It was quiet. No one of sane mind was awake at 2 a.m.

I had spent my evening watching over a child that had been refused chocolate before bed. It had protested loudly, crying for more than an hour. One of the neighbours—a man in his late sixties who was obsessed with running the building under strict rules—had knocked on the door, evidently coming to compete with the roaring of the young boy. I have seen quite the bickering in my days, but even this had been too much for me. 

I had come for a different reason. After the child's mother had put it to sleep and had gotten rid of the hysterical man, I had followed her to the living room. She had stumbled a bit, holding on to the rails her husband had recently placed on the walls. She had sat on a chair, taking deep breaths. Opening the first drawer on her writing desk, she had taken out a vial. A glass of water had stood by her left hand. She had swallowed, her daily dose of painkillers entering her system with one purpose only—extinguishing the fire that burned inside. She had wept silently, as to not wake up the tiny life in the other room. I had watched, bound by my role as an observer, guilt piling inside me.

I can’t... breathe! I can’t…

“Aya,” I whispered, my head darting in the direction of her voice. Her mind was screaming, her thoughts flooding the space around me, wave after wave making its way to me. I felt colder, my fingertips turned red, while my palms lost all colour. I needed to find her. I climbed on the parapet. A car was coming from the right, slowly taking a sharp left turn. I looked at the sky, praying to the moon that I would arrive on time.

The February air slashed through me as I fell towards the car.

---

The choir of shrieks was almost deafening. Even with my hands covering my ears, it was hard to keep myself from passing out. Millions of hissing voices screamed. 

Useless! 

You can never be good enough. 

Pitiful! Hungry, penniless, and alone.

Failure! Alone.

All alone

Hopelessly alone...

Aya was on the floor, her body bent over. I could hardly hold my head up long enough to see her. She was reaching for something beside her. My hand stiffened. I watched as the skin on my wrist was split by a white curve. My arm was shaking, my eyes losing focus. 

“Aya!” I tried to stand up, but the voices tied me down. “Aya, stop!” The scar was becoming longer. It stung. “Aya, let go of the knife!” She couldn’t hear me. I forced my legs up. The scar was burning. The shrieks, like sirens, pulled me back. I can’t reach her. The realization made my heart sink. She was going to die, and I couldn’t save her. 

Everything will be over. The voices chanted. Soon, everything will be over. 

Then, they seized. I stumbled forward, but a hand caught me by the shoulder. It let go. A man in a black coat stood beside me, a red scarf dangling from his neck. Fear. Our eyes met. His hair was tied up in a messy bun, raven locks slipping from the grip of his hairband. He looked tired, shadows creeping behind his dark pupils. His clothes were burnt in a few places, making him look as if coming back from months on the road. 

“Aya!” I knelt next to the girl on the floor. She sat in a pool of blood, the liquid still streaming from her wrist. She looked as if possessed, her hand moving back and forth in a rhythmic motion, continuing to cut through her skin. “What are you doing?!” I pulled the knife away from her. Fear took it and placed a first aid kit by my legs. I felt my heart skip a beat. The wound was deep, too deep. Aya was barely conscious. I cleaned the blood and sealed it with a few stitches. Carefully wrapping a bandage around the wrist, I finished. Fear came back, a glass of water in his hand. I lifted Aya’s chin and made her drink. I used what was left to wash her face. Her body shivered. Her eyes opened wide. She looked around. Then she pushed me. 

I flew backward, hitting the wall. The back of my head pulsated, my spine made a cracking noise. Fear took my side and helped me stand. Leaning on him, I managed to regain my balance. Aya was a few meters away, her hands holding on to the back of a chair. Blood was dripping from her waistcoat.

“You!” She yelled, her voice cracking, her eyes on me. “You were supposed to help me!” Something inside me gripped my throat. She was barely standing. She was supposed to lay down. 

“Aya, you lost too much—”

“You said that I would be fine. That my struggle was a good lesson, and if I fight through it, I will find my way again.” Her knees were shaking. I needed to get to her. My head was still dizzy from the impact. “I failed. I failed! And I cried, and I fought, and I failed!” Fear’s grip tightened. “My mind is failing! Because of it, my body is failing!” She gasped for air. “I haven’t slept properly for six months. Six months!” My chest ached. Fear tapped on my shoulder. I looked at him and nodded. We moved a step closer. 

“And you!” Aya was looking at him now, her eyes bursting with anger. “You ruined everything!” Her pants were drenched in blood. “I am afraid! I am afraid of taking tests! I fidget when I see the timer counting down the last two minutes. My fingers can’t hold on to the pen. My arms and legs shake.” She looked at her feet. “I am afraid of failure! I am afraid of my inability to make decisions! I am afraid of tomorrow!” She lifted her face. “I hate you.” Fear shook. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

My legs moved forward. My hands stretched towards her, embracing her. I pulled her closer. Aya punched me, her fists pounding against my chest.

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

She wept. 

***

Everything will be over…

Her voice was stuck in my mind, echoing in me, through me, louder than any of the shrieks coming out of her home. I waited in the shadows, my breath coming out as gusts of small clouds in the winter air. My hands were cold.

A tall female figure snuck out of the entrance, her curly dark hair resting around her shoulders. A few more meters.

“Well, Neith, I didn’t expect you to show up,” she chuckled, turning towards me. “Come to enjoy the human’s breakdown, have we?”

“We shouldn’t invoke the olden names, Suffer.” I could see the smoke of disdain wrapped around her fingers.

“Are you trying to distance yourself from the monster you once were?” Her laughter slashed through the silence of the night. “You can try to run from your past, Fear, but that makes you a man running from his shadow.”

“Better than what you are trying tonight.” I stepped closer, my fingers curling into a fist. “Call of the Amfivolía!”

“Soft!” She spat. “You care for the ones that cast you away! You used to rule over them! Look what you have become.” Her hand gestured towards him. “Petty excuse for a being!”

Suffer had many flaws, although she attempted to present herself as the epitome of perfection. The excess of arrogance was to be her downfall. I held my hand up, drawing a circle. 

“Don’t you dare!” She screamed, smoke lighting up like a torch around her. She swung the ribbons of fire towards me. In finishing the spell, I had to stand still. My coat caught on fire that spread to my thighs. I drew a line slashing through the circle. Waves of energy left my body, my knees shaking. Before she could say anything else, Suffer was pulled inside the circle. 

---

I sat down next to Aya, my right leg a stand to place my elbow on. Her head leaned on Pain’s shoulder, weeping herself to sleep. Her breathing seemed normal, but at times she would jerk and then fall asleep again, tears streaming down her cheeks endlessly. She looked tiny next to him, her legs bent, so her knees touched her chest. I turned my face around to look at the brooding clouds that had spread as if a dome that would never allow us to see sunlight again. I hate you, she had yelled, her eyes like wildfire. I hate you.

“We need to find Happiness, and soon,” Pain pointed to a blanket near my feet. He fell quiet for a moment, reaching for the cover. I bent forward and pulled it towards him. “I still don’t understand why he left.” He enveloped her with the blanket. I tucked it in on the other side, making sure that her back was completely covered. “And where could he have gone when she needed him?”

“Perhaps it's not his fault.” I lifted my scarf and placed it on her.

A few weeks earlier, I had encountered Happiness while passing by Aya’s home. He stood on the other side of the street, hands in his pockets, hood covering his head. I could hardly recognize him. His skin was strangely pale, his clothes—plain compared to his usual attire. His face looked downward instead of smiling at everyone around him, his golden-ash hair hiding his eyes. He was skinnier, too, as if prevented from eating because he had messed up.

We had stood beside each other, no word spoken. It had been dusk, and the temperature had dropped rapidly. 

“Won’t you go see her?” I had asked, staring at the balcony on the third floor.

He had looked up, a sad smile on his face.

“She won’t let me in.”

Thinking of Happiness now, I finally realised what he had told me that day. My chest ached at the thought, but it was the right thing to do.

“Pain,” he turned towards me, his hand resting on top of Aya’s. “It is time for us to go.”