Alister
I walk up to Clara after class, weaving through the slow scatter of students and half-hearted conversations.
After a full day of her alternating between burning holes into the back of my head and ignoring me when I look back, I knew she was itching to say something. Her silence was too forced, her attention on the lecture too exaggerated. And for once, Zach hadn't received even a flicker of her interest. That alone said everything.
She sat slouched over. Her usual confidence was nowhere to be seen. She looked upset, though she was clearly trying to pretend she wasn't. Even when she spoke to her friends, her voice lacked that usual edge. She'd turned down their invitation to hang out like she couldn't even pretend to care.
"We need to talk."
Her fingers froze mid-tap, but she doesn't look up. She lets out a long and annoyed sigh before turning her head to the side like that would somehow make me vanish.
"I don't want to."
Liar.
I lean in slightly, lowering my voice just enough for her ears only. "Shall I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out? Imagine what others will think. What Zach would think."
That does something. Her blue eyes flicker toward me warily, like weighing whether I was bluffing or about to make a scene.
But with an annoyed huff, she stands up and walks out of the class. I follow after her.
Once alone in a class, I shut the door and turn to face her. "Did you ask someone to get the location?"
She stares at me blankly for a moment. Disappointment settles across her face, subtle but unmistakable. Her brows twitch slightly, and the corners of her lips falter, as if she'd been holding onto some small, fragile expectation.
She thought I was going to apologize.
"...Yes." she mutters, voice laced with a bitter edge. A frown carves its way across her face, but she doesn't look at me again.
I press on. "When can we get it?"
"Tonight maybe or tomorrow at the earliest." She replies dryly.
"She's so insufferable," Helena voices her unwanted opinion from across the room, sitting on top of the table. "I get why you can't stand her."
An awkward silence follows. Maybe it's just me, standing there, waiting for her to explode like she did on the phone. Or to finally spit out whatever she's clearly bottling up behind that scowl and stiff posture.
But she doesn't.
"If that's all, I'll be leaving now." she says, heels tapping sharply against the floor as she heads for the door.
This is better. The distance. The professionalism. Despite the misunderstanding, I prefer things to be direct and simple between us. Only to interact when we need to discuss important matters. No unnecessary words. No emotional clutter. No yelling to disturb the mental quiet I've built for myself. No need for useless ramblings or distractions.
And no need for smiles.
She snaps her head back towards me in shock and confusion smeared across her features as she glances down at my hand suddenly gripping her arm.
I'm honestly as perplexed as she is. Just what am I doing?
"If you're worried, I haven't told anyone about it." She says, rolling her eyes.
Her words filled with hate echoes in to my mind, voice cracking from hurt and betrayal.
If it happened again, I would have done the same.
I thought we could be friends.
"That's not—"
"CLARA!"
The door slams open, and a fuming and gasping Zach looks at us through the doorway. He sees the scene in front of him and glares at me.
"What did you do!?" He yells.
Before I can clear up the misunderstanding, he charges at me, grabbing my collar and pinning me to the wall.
My poor shirts and their collars.
"Zach! Are you crazy!? What are you doing!?" Clara cries, pulling back his arm before he can punch me.
If we were in a fight where weapons are allowed, I'd win against him in under 15 seconds. But when it comes to fist fights, it's really a battle of strength vs speed. I would put up a fight, but he would win due to his resilience.
As expected of a brute.
"Didn't he hurt you?" Zach replies to her while having a glaring contest with me.
"What? What are—" Clara begins but is interrupted by the cheering voice of another annoying person as she enters the room.
"Fight! Fight!..." Stephanie enters as she chants on, pumping her fists up and down with enthusiasm as we all look at her.
Clara shoots her a death glance. "Be quiet!"
"Let them duke it out! It's not every day we get to see some real-life drama unfolding before our very eyes!" She says excitedly.
"Looks like you've been bored. No relationships to sabotage lately?" I remark.
She smirks and winks. "I knew you'd understand."
"What's all the commotion!"
Just then the university's guidance counsellor enters the room, and his eyes widen upon looking at Zach pinning me to the wall. His expression changes from one of curiosity to shock and concern.
"Zach, Let him go immediately!" He orders.
Zach hesitates for a moment, then releases his grip on me.
"My office. Now." He turns to Clara and Stephanie, who are just standing by. "You two, come with us."
The next hour is spent in his office, listening to a lecture on behavior and responsibility. That we're not in high school anymore, where immature behavior might be written off as a 'phase.' And that we're adults now, so it's time to start acting like it.
Why do I have to listen to this? What did I do? I'm the victim here.
Suddenly his phone rings mid-speech and he tells us to sit tight while he answers the call. The poor guy must not have much to do, so he maybe sees this as a chance to step up.
Once he's gone, we all glare at Stephanie, the one responsible for all this and for wasting our time.
"What? I already said, My bad." She says nonchalantly with a shrug while leaning back in her chair. She props her legs up on the office desk.
"He'll be back any minute now." Clara warns her sternly.
"Nah, he won't. It's a call from his wife. From the anxiousness on his face, I assure you it's going to take awhile." She laughs, further fueling our annoyance.
"Alister," Zach says, sitting next to me, looking guilty. "I'm so sorry about that. Stephanie said Clara looked scared and you were taking her somewhere, so I just...got worried."
Clara, who is sitting next to me smiles, bashfully as she tucks a strand behind her ear.
"Whatever. Forget about it." I say and look away from him.
"It's ok, Zach." Clara reassures him. "It was Stephanie's fault afterall." She shoots steph a glare from the corner of her eye. "She sleeps all the time in class, so it makes sense she was bored out of her mind and wanted to cause trouble."
Steph scoffs, "Well, I'm sorry, I thought you were in trouble? But I suppose one never sees the intentions behind the actions, huh?"
"You literally walked in encouraging them to fight. The intentions were pretty clear to everyone, you national reject."
Steph's smirk falters, her eyes narrowing as her expression darkens like a thundercloud rolling in.
Zach looks like he's about to jump out of his seat to de-escalate things, while Clara holds her chin up, as if daring her to make a move.
No one says that nickname unless they have a death wish.
Everyone knows Stephanie didn't make it to nationals not because she lacked skill. But because her fencing style is too aggressive. She's blacklisted. Anyone who's ever dared to throw that name at her usually ends up in the ER, nursing broken bones.
Just before her fist collides with Clara's face, it stops—mere inches from impact when my hand wraps tightly around her knuckles. Her arm trembles with the halted momentum, as my eyes lock on hers with a warning glare.
"Don't you think that's enough fun for today?"
Her siren eyes crackle with that familiar, reckless spark she gets when she's two seconds away from throwing someone through a wall.
But apparently Clara hasn't had enough, as she smirks and opens her mouth again. "You think she—"
"Alright, that's enough!" Zach quickly covers her mouth with his hand. "I swear, you three need the dumbest reasons to pick a fight. You need to learn to get along as classmates." He then lets go of Clara, much to her disappointment. "Why don't we all take a break and do something fun together? Like, uh, going to the theme park? There's going to be a concert there."
Clara and Steph exchange skeptical glances, but Zach presses on. His enthusiasm, nauseating "Come on, it'll be great! I don't think we have ever hung out together; even in events and parties our families host, we're always separated. Now's our chance."
"Please stop talking." I say as I wince at his words.
But Zach rolls his eyes and doesn't give up. "This could be great. We can forget about all this conflict and grow closer together."
I know one person who would definitely not miss an opportunity to get closer to him.
"I'm in!" Clara exclaims.
I don't like crowded places. I don't like socializing unless I have to. And I certainly don't like hanging out with people I study with. We can't be in such places, especially knowing we need to avoid getting detected by those artifact hunters. In a crowded area we won't be able to fight, but they might find a way to use their items against us.
"Us too. It could be nice. Finally having a chance to catch up." Steph says, eyes locked on mine, daring me to say no. I say nothing and look away.
"Going there ourselves will be quicker. But...I drive a motorbike." Zach says, shrugging.
"We have our drivers to pick us up." Clara tilts her head towards Steph.
They all look at me once again with a knowing look.
◇.........🗡.........◇
"...and that's why I wish I could grow some lilies of the valley. They're just so—"
"SHUT UP AND KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!" I yell, gripping my seatbelt for dear life as we're about to slam the car into a fire hydrant. I make sure to hold onto the seat as he turns the car away from the pavement towards the road.
"WHY!? Why would you offer to drive when you're not good at it? How do you even have a license!?" I glare at Zach as he sits, with no sense of urgency whatsoever.
He frowns and looks ahead, trying to keep the car going straight. "I was trying to be nice! Plus isn't it the thought that counts?"
"Not when it's MY car that's getting smashed!" I snap at him.
"Don't listen to him Zach, I think you're driving just fine." Clara calls out from the back seat with her blind support.
"You've gotta be kidding me." I mumble as I roll my eyes and look back at her.
She has strapped herself to the seat so tightly, and the sweat on her forehead along with the look of fear on her face tells me she's just as worried. Her nails dig into the headrest as she grips it for support while her other hand holds onto an unconscious Steph.
"Did she faint?" I ask as I see her head bob against the window.
"No, she's sleeping. She fell asleep as soon as we got on." Clara says while making sure she doesn't fall off the seat.
How? How does one sleep through all this?
"Hey, Alister. You know about Marylebone Orphanage?" Zach asks out of nowhere. The question makes me look at him in surprise, and instantly feel guarded.
That's the orphanage where I killed that nun.
"I might. Why?" Why would he ask me about it? I know he has a relative in the police department and knows about a lot of cases, but this is quite unexpected.
"I wanted to thank you for your donation. I'm a big sponsor there, and I heard about your recent donations. The kids were really happy." He says cheerfully, narrowly avoiding a collision.
"I didn't know you were involved in those things." I take a sigh of relief knowing this conversation isn't going where I dreaded.
"Of course. It's just that...and I don't mean to sound moppy or sad, but when you lose someone important to you...you gain a kind of perspective. It allows you to see what those without both parents must be going through." He says, with a wistful look in his eyes.
If I remember correctly, Zach's mom died when he was young. He looked pretty devastated in the news. But now, he doesn't look like anything will ever faze him. Keeping a positive attitude about everything. That's why Clara likes him. Because she wants to be like him.
"Guys! We're almost there. I can see it." Zach says, and I look at the unmistakable sight of the giant Ferris wheel and roller coaster, rising above the trees and buildings, coming into view.
As we draw closer, thankfully not getting into an accident, the sound of laughter and screams of excitement carries on the wind. The smell of food and treats wafts through the air.
Soon after the car is parked and Stephanie is awakened, I get out and inspect the vehicle for damages.
"Relax, I didn't hit anything." Zach calls out as the three of them begin to walk to the gates. "Come on, I'll get the tickets."
"I saw you hit three trashcans." I say as I inspect the hood.
But something changes before my very eyes as I take another step. The sound of snow crunching beneath my feet makes me stop.
I'm in a ditch. One that I'm very familiar with. One that makes me hate winter and the cold misery it brings.
I glance down to see a schoolbag with its contents spilling onto the damp and dirty floor. As I look around, I realize that the ditch seems deeper than I remember. The walls seem to be closing in on me, making me feel claustrophobic and trapped.
"We spent hours here, didn't we? Throat was so sour after crying for help."
I spin around, my heart pounding, as I see the little boy standing behind me. I follow his gaze to the cloudy skies as snowflakes begin to fall around us.
I close my eyes once again, telling myself to snap out of it. That it's just a hallucination.
"Yet no one came. And after several tries, we finally managed to drag ourselves up using the vines. No one ever comes to us, huh?" He continues.
"Why are you here?" I whisper.
He turns to me and smiles. "What do you mean? I've always been here."
I step towards him. "No. You're not real. Your dead. I killed you."
"You can never kill me."
I lunge forward, my hands grasping for the boy's small neck. My fingers wrap around his throat, squeezing tightly as I try to choke the life out of him.
I feel a sudden jolt as someone pulls my arm. The motion breaks the spell that had held me transfixed, and I blink rapidly as my surroundings shift and blur.
I find myself back in the parking lot, with the lazy afternoon and sounds of cars driving by. I look down to see Clara's concerned face gazing up at me. Her hand is still wrapped around my arm, her grip relaxed now that she has my attention.
"Is it happening again?" she asks.
I sigh and run a hand over my face "Weren't you mad at me?"
She frowns and looks away. "I still am."
I look at the crowd of smiling faces, with people of all ages laughing, chatting, and screaming with delight. Children, their eyes wide with wonder, cling to the hands of their parents or grandparents, their faces alight with excitement.
"We shouldn't be here." I mumble as I look around. "We've already wasted so much time. We should be doing something about this, fast. Or else it'll be too late and we'll lose our minds."
"I know that," she says, gripping the strap of her bag, "but what can we do at this moment? Until we get the location, I don't think we can do anything except try to endure and push through it." She crosses her arms as she looks ahead at Zach and Stephanie. "I couldn't sleep at all last night. My body feels so jittery that I feel like I'm going to faint. I urged the guy to send us that location quicker, but I don't know when he'll do that. I don't know when we'll be able to go there, and I don't know if we're even closer to finding out anything or if we're just nearing a dead end."
I'm about to say something like being here and pretending to have fun with classmates doesn't seem like a good idea with all these worries, but I see the disappointed and dejected look on her face and realize what this trip actually means for her.
It's a distraction from her problems.
While I personally believe this isn't a one-time thing for us to hang out together, we could do it later too. But it seems like I shouldn't say this out loud, as it's very important to her for some reason.
"Let's go. Looks like they got the tickets." I say, making her look at me in surprise as we both start walking towards Zach, who waves the tickets at us in the air.
"You'll be ok? What if it happens again?" She asks.
I shurg. "Guess I'll just have to endure, like you said."
She goes silent and looks deep in thought before opening her bag and pulling out a black rubber band. "I don't know if this would work but how about snapping this on your wrist everytime you start to hallucinate? It might divert your attention away from what you see and make your body focus on physical pain."
I doubt that it would work, but I suppose it's worth a try. Something is better than nothing.
She runs up to Zach, smiling as they start to converse.
I touch the rubber band on my wrist and pull at it before letting it go and flinching at the sting.
As we walk along the winding paths, taking in the various attractions, my mind drifts back to what I was researching at home. About the murder of the guy who sold the gems to the antique seller. According to the news, he was found with a bullet in his chest. Hours after he had made the transaction at the gas station, which, of course, wasn't mentioned in the news. He was killed. Probably by the person who was chasing him in the footage. Maybe he was after the gems too, and when he didn't find them on the man, he killed him.
This theory makes sense.
And since that murderer hasn't crossed paths with us, I'd say he didn't get the information he needed when he killed the guy he was chasing.
Which only means when we confront him, it's going to be nothing short of dangerous, and weapons will need to be involved.
"You really have no idea what happened before the gems got activated?" I ask Helena, who, after few seconds, materializes beside me, looking irritated for some reason.
I've decided to believe she is a ghost. Trapped in the gem. It's far easier and better than admitting I'm going insane.
I tried going to a shaman to confirm it. While they did say they feel a strong presence of someone inside me, they also said the same thing to a guy before me with a similar issue.
"No. Like I said, it felt like waking up from a deep slumber and having no memories at all."
As soon as we find an empty table, Steph slumps down on it. "I'm tired of walking. You guys go on without me."
"But the show is going to start." Zach reminds.
"Alister will keep me company." She says, pulling my jacket until I sit down beside her. "And bring something to eat on the way back. I'm starving." She adds as she munches on the cake she had me buy for her.
I see disappointment in Zach's eyes, while Clara, on the other hand, looked like she had just been handed a golden opportunity. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and a soft, enigmatic smile spread across her face.
I watch as they both walk away, with Clara glancing at him, trying to appear as sweet and soft as possible.
"You know what you look like?" Steph says, interrupting me.
"What?"
"Like my dog, Frodo. When I have to leave home, he would just stare at me with those big eyes and be all sad." She smirks as she bites into her treat.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You don't need to worry. As far as I know, it's one-sided. You might still have a chance if you play your cards right."
My eyes narrow at her "keep me out of your nonsense. There is nothing like that going on." I stare at the direction they went.
"Really?" She muses, "I'd assume that was the reason, seeing as how she's still alive."
I exhale sharply. This is the conversation I've been meaning to avoid for a while. It makes sense that she'd bring it up now. I must be boring her. That's always when she starts to interfere.
I hold her gaze. "So you sending that photo to her parents and having Zach around us was just to confirm your useless suspicions? Push me towards a cliff and see how I react to it?"
She licks the cream off her fingers as she looks up thoughtfully. "You didn't give me much of a choice. You know all too well if she tattles on you to the wrong people, you won't be the only one going down. I'll be dragged into that mess too as your informant. Did you really think I'd sit back and let you avoid this conversation?"
I click my tongue and look ahead. "I told you, she won't do it. I guarantee it. And even if it does come to that, I'll make sure not to drag you to prison with me."
She smiles, leaning forward and blinking innocently. "Because we're friends?"
"Because you'll have to use your money and influence to get me out of there unless you want me to spill the tea about your involvement." I smirk back. "Can't have you sit back and relax in a plush chair while I lie down on the cold floor."
I'm not interested in friendship or any other relationship you might have in mind. I only care about how useful you are to me and how you can help me with what I want to do.
Those were my words to her when she approached me, and we've stuck by them ever since. But that doesn't mean I trust her at all. I've gathered enough evidence of her involvement that she wouldn't be able to weasel her way out of it. Enough to bury her if she ever turns on me.
Her smile twist, and she rolls her eyes, backing up. "Whatever the case, you need to do something about Clara before she gets out of hand. Or I'll do something myself."
I glare back at her. "You will do nothing. I've told you countless times never to interfere in what I do. If I'm telling you the matter won't escalate, than it won't."
Her eyes sparkle, and she lifts her fork towards me. "How about you fight me for it."
Ugh, Her obsession with fighting.
"Don't start that again." I answer, brushing off the challenge like a stray leaf as I feel something fluffy rubbing against my leg. I glance down, and a pair of bright, green eyes stares from behind a veil of soft, black fur. I carefully scoop up the cat and place it onto my lap, stroking it.
"What?" She says, resting her head on her palms. "I just yearn for the day I get to raise my sword against your knives. You know what they say—iron sharpens iron. Let's see how sharp you've gotten since last time."
I scratch behind the cat's ear and listen to its soft purring vibrate through my hands.
"I'm not in the mood to humor your battle kinks." I reply, causing her to laugh until she chokes on her meal.
I look towards the crowd forming in front of the stage, scanning to see those two in there. "I had to get an earful from her because of you. She's pretty upset about it. You have no idea the trouble you caused her."
Steph raises a brow. "I thought you found her cute when she's angry."
I turn sharply to look at her. "When have I ever said that?"
She ignores and pokes at the cake. "I don't think the photo was that big of a deal. She got scolded, and now she's dumping that frustration on you. Let it go."
The distant sounds of music and laughter carried through the air, growing louder as the live stage show at the theme park began.
"Her mom burned her with a cigarette."
Steph freezes mid-bite, fork hovering near her mouth. She stares at me with wide eyes, disbelief written all over her face. "Seriously?"
I nod once.
"Geez," she mutters, slowly setting the fork down. "No wonder she's so jumpy today." Then, with a scoff, she leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. "And I'm guessing you insulted her or brushed it off instead of, I don't know, apologizing like a normal person? Since she thinks it's you who did it."
I say nothing, and that seems to give her the answer, as she starts laughing.
"Typical."
Kindness is wasted on people like you.
I'm fine with it. Her hating me. I welcome it, even. Let her hate me for the rest of her life. Let her despise me so completely that the idea of ever being kind to me makes her sick. Let her remember me only as the person who make things worse.
I want her anger. Her distrust. Her disgust. I don't want her kindness. Not her sympathy. Not her warmth. They'd only serve to make one want more of it—to need it.
Let her scream and try to burn every bridge between us. I'll hand her the match.
A memory I hadn't touched in years appears before my eyes.
A boy being embraced tightly by a woman with white hair kneeling in front of him while feeling the warm pool of blood reach his toes from the side.
Always remember this. No one will ever love you like I do, not even your parents. No one will ever care for you, cry for you, or miss you like I do. No one in the world will understand you like I do. Only I can see your strength and potential. People may pretend or even try to be concerned about you. But there is no one, except me, who will do everything for you. Promise me you will never forget.
"Are you listening?" Steph calls out, making me blink before I turn to look at her. "I said I have some information from the guy I was with at your performance."
I shake my head. "I'm not getting into that. I've got some real troublesome stuff to deal with these days."
She shrugs and says nothing then.
I look at her from the corner of my eye. "How is that boyfriend of yours by the way? You certainly looked like you were having fun."
"Oh please," She rolls her eyes and tilts her head back. Her black ponytail shifting as she looks at the sky. "You know I had to do it for this. There's nothing in the world I hate more than romance. It's a sickness that turns your brain into mush and makes you, a foolish person."
I smile and look ahead.
I couldn't agree more.