8 Into my grievous sin, I slowly kill myself

ALICE

The shock hasn’t left me. I’m still frozen on the spot. I should move. I should take care of the boy in my arms. I should muster strength to my limbs. I should remember to breath.

“Kid?” The groundkeeper’s voice rang in still atmosphere. Chordinis and Hymen dispersed in mid air. The image of the two disappeared with the wind. They left me. Because they can’t let others see them. I know. The pocket watch necklace is heavy against my skin. The sketchbook made its weight known against the bag hanging in my shoulder.

I thought I lost the bag. This one is what I brought four months ago. At his burial. I can’t bring his guitar, nor his clothes. I left it rotting in dust in our apartment. I can’t push myself to go back. Not when he died in the very room I treated as my paradise.

“Woah who’s that boy?” The groundkeeper scurried to attend my side. He gently removed the boy’s body hanging in my shoulder.

“What happened kid? It’s the first time I saw you moving.” The groundkeeper end his words with anticipating eyes. As if he’s expecting me to explain what happened. But my mouth has been forced shut by dread. The idea of transferring the boy's fated death to that man horrifies me beyond words. There is an acute agony ripping through my chest – and it’s as raw as when I watched Kenneth’s lifeless body lying in front of me.

The groundkeeper – upon knowing he won’t receive any words from me, resign to shaking his head and carry the boy in his arms.

“Come on, I’ll get you two inside. You’re welcome to stay in my cabin. That is – if you’re willing to stay for the night with an old man like me.” He said, clearly embarrassed. I tore my gaze from the empty air and looked at his face. I met his eyes. This is the first time I have a good look at what this groundkeeper looks like.

His powder white hair is crooked to one side. As if he couldn’t care any further to take care of it. His eyes are milky watery – but he didn’t squeeze them into thin lines when he gazes at me. His chin has white scrubs goatee. And it beautifies his friendly smile. Make him look like a harmless lonely old man left by his family to die.

The black patched strings around him proves it. Black…not only portrays hatred, but loneliness and regrets as well. Standing one meter away from him, I experienced the force of these feelings in a blast of explosion. And it affects me more than I could imagine.

I’m reminded of my own pain. My very own regrets I purge through my heart. So I won’t forget. So I won’t forgive. What I did to Kenneth. My own selfishness killing him. And I’ll carry this burden till the day I’ll die.

Was there anything I could do to help the groundkeeper? The moment this thought crossed my mind, I instantly regretted it. There’s nothing I could do. Nothing. I can’t even do anything to help Kenneth. I didn’t do anything to prevent his death. Even if Chordinis and Hymen told me I now wield the strings power in my hands… And with it I can change the fate of one person… Its meaningless if the tragic destiny of that ‘person’ was shoved to others.

If only I realized sooner… I wouldn’t have done it. I would have done differently. I should not have resorted in punishing that man.

My eyes started to shatter. The graveyard.. with its tomb and trees and greenery grass… all turned to dripping blood in my sight. I wonder if I held my breath for too long will it kill me? If I cut off my ears and let it bleed until I can’t understand words until I can’t hear any sounds will it kill me? If I cut out my heart and squeezed it into a pulp in my hand, will that end this miserable life? Will that repay for the wrongdoings I’ve done?

Will it make up for taking away the life, the dreams, the future of Kenneth which I stole because I’m too selfish to dream for a happy ever after. Because I’m too conceited to only want him to be with me forever. Because I desired him down to the core of my very being. Because in those moments where he gave me his warmest smile, my heart flutters and my blood rushes to life. And I find my meaning. He became the very reason why I still need to live...

Why?

Why did things become this way?

I just want him, Only him. No one will do if it's not him.

Was it wrong? Am I really wretched, lowlife and a despicable dirt in society that wanting someone was never given to me as privilege? Am I really worthless?

Am I really no good? Am I really...

a MONSTER?!

I’m no different from my Aunt..who abused her powers to control, extort and kill people to her convenience. Even if my intention is to sought out something that would save me from my hell… Everything still end up the same. I still killed him.

How could I ever repent for that? Will my life suffice as payment for that sin?

“Kid? Aren’t you coming?” The groundkeeper’s back is already facing me. His moth eaten clothes hang loosely around his thin body.

I tucked the sling leather bag on my side and sauntered towards him. At the distance, a wooden worn out single-gabled timbered roof sloping cabin with red paint splash on the wall ‘DO NOT ENTER” catch my eyes. The size is relatively small, there’s a wooden window on the side, opened by a wooden stick for support. Beside it, is the inconspicuous rectangular door with the height of groundkeeper.

“Come, come inside. I’ll prepare us some tea – “

“ – clate” I managed to utter. How did I spoke so many words with Chordinis and Hymen earlier? Now my lips is trembling because it’s not used in forming the language I’ve known all my life but never explored.

“Did you say something?” The groundkeeper’s voice is thick with surprise. I can’t look up. I can’t move my neck. Strength is rapidly draining from my limbs. Walking has taken a huge toll on me. My feet are not used to carrying both my weight and someone else’.

Will the boy be alright? Will that man be alright?

The Double Vs on the boy's neck, I catch the glimpse of it when groundkeeper positioned him in a sofa. A large shabby sofa that could accommodate both me and the boy if we slept in. The humidity is ideal. The crackling fireplace is giving light and warmth to the crisp air inside.

“I want chocolate drink please.” It took three deep intake of breaths before I could roll out the words from my tongue. The groundkeeper looked at me with genuine shocked eyes. His frozen open mouth never moved even in the slightest.

“You – you can talk?” I nod. “Then why didn’t you?” I looked away. My nose that smelled the timber and wet in the wood, my skin that is so sensitive to the slightest blow of crisp air from the window, my eyes that can’t looked away from the boy sleeping in slumber.

“I… I wanna thank you for taking care of me for the past four months.” I said. Not looking into the groundkeeper’s eyes.

He sat beside the curling figure of the boy, brushing the messy midnight hair with his withered hands. The way his eyes crinkled as he regard me with affectionate smile lets me know, from the bottom of his heart, he was also genuinely grateful for me.

That looking after me, making me meals, feeding me with the cat has somehow ease the loneliness he carried throughout his solitary years in this graveyard.

“Kid…are you saying thank you because you’re leaving?” I answered his question with a nod.

“What’s your name child?” he asked. I hesitated. "I'll treat it as your uhh- compensation for the months of taking care of you."

I lowered my gaze. Watch the fire burning as it lowered and spread over the fireplace.

"My name is Alice."