Into my distorted self he appeared.

ALICE

Different colors of strings came out from the red book, swirling, tangling, forming a loop around me. As if it wants to tie me around its knotted threads.

“What is this?” Black white and red burst out like fireworks. I’ve never seen strings this much without people.

Thrice when I was in crowds, I saw many. But most are black. None are white. Some have red. In their pinky, in their hearts.

Black strings ruled over hearts. Humans are full of hatred. They can lie straight in their faces, in their smiles, but they can never lie through the string.

I don’t know why strings reveal themselves to me. I don’t like people in the first place. Seeing their feelings laid bare makes me hate them more.

I waited till the outburst died down. Shocked, surprised, all these turmoils of emotions were in my heart, at the epitome of my lungs, at the tip of my tongue. But none can be reflected in my face. In my eyes. I'm like a statue. Once carved, can never be undone. My expression is always one and the same. What I wore on that night has never left...even until now.

I’m used to staring into dead empty space. I sometimes can’t process what’s happening in front of me.

Maybe these strings are just a lie. An illusion. A lot of things a mind can do to a person. A shadow, a disparity in the surroundings, can create ripples of hallucinations, giving birth to apprehensive thoughts. Creating unexplainable fear. Then people call you crazy for expressing your own share of anxiety.

I waited. I rocked back and forth. I’m desperate to touch the book where my sketches of Kenneth are but can’t. He’s in there. He’s trapped in there. His warmth is in there. In my drawings. In my sketching. I wanna touch. I wanna hug.

I want comfort. Please mind… stop playing with my sanity anymore. Let me touch him.

[Touch who?]

I stifle a scream, my panic, my terror, my voice couldn’t get out of my lips. Can’t be expressed. Deeply caged at the bottom part of my chest. I’m staring eye to eye to someone who looks like a human, bright red eyes, black charcoaled long hair, tight thin lips. White chalked face, he looked certainly a young man if it wasn’t for the half of his face shifting a hologram of dark and wrinkly skin. An old man's skin.

[Oh no need to be scared. Scaredy little cat. I’m your guardian angel.]

.

.

.

He wiggled his eyebrows. He tilted his head. He expected me to say something. I don’t know what to respond. He called me a cat. There’s only one cat in here. And last time I check, it wasn’t me.

[Somehow your expression irritates me]

He exhaled a short breath and scratch his head. I looked down. I forced my eyes to watch his red swirling robe, anywhere from his eyes. Pure bright red, like blood, with gold and silver cursive shapes and designs. Awestruckingly beautiful. It could be my mind playing tricks on me again but I could have sworn they move.

[What? You want a robe like this too?]

He asked with a tone I can’t begin to describe. Something in between of amuse and joking but his eyes weren’t wearing the slightest trace of humor. I’m confused. He’s somewhat shady, but not scary.

[Oh, right. I’m supposed to return this book to you. Sorry for making modifications to this. It was originally the 'Book Of Strings', I just played with the cover and pages to make it look like a sketchbook. Good thing it's successfully delivered into your hands.]

He stretch his placid - green and purple vein popping hand with the book towards me, which is now red and unfamiliar. Not the same sketchbook I used to hug to appease my loneliness. Not the same sketchbook I use to pour out my feelings of longing for Kenneth. Nothing is left…except an explicit hard bound cover with eccentric designs.

I don't recognize this.

He chuckled at me. His bright red eyes cackled in delight. Like it’s on fire. And I inwardly flinch.

[You’ll offend ‘Chordis’ if you don’t accept it]

He slowly ran his eyes down, then up towards me.

“Chordis?”

[Ah, finally you spoke! I thought you don’t wanna talk. It’s kind of lonely you know. I keep talking, you keep staring. I know my face is artistically one heck of a masterpiece but - ]

He’s cut off by twenty red threads spinning around him like spider web.

[Fine, fine, I’ll tell her. You guys are so impatient. I know you want her to be your new Master but lay down okay? Let me handle this.]

I don’t understand. I feel he’s talking to nonexistent matter. In this case, the strings. Weird thing is, they listened to him. They recede back in the ground, slithering towards me.

They're never a trick of my mind, weren't they? This is all real.

[No drumroll eh? Gods, I hate it if there’s no drumroll when I’m about to announce something vital and important and so - drastically magnanimous that could change a woman’s life forever but, no choice, fine then. Whatever.]

He cleared his throat and dig his hand deeper into the collar of his red robe. A moment later, he take out a necklace. A silver necklace with a pocket watch, the color is strangely red and white with two figures, a woman and a boy inside a thin red line shaping their surroundings in a heart.

My eyes are glued to the image, my mind is deeply preoccupied I didn’t notice him hanging the necklace to my neck. My consciousness wasn't pulled back to reality if it weren't for the unknown click in my collarbone.

It took one, two - five seconds for my mind to register. There's a foreign object in my neck. Alive and clocking time. I quickly pulled it out and forced it back to the half strange man's hand.

"I don't want it." I told him. He clench his hand around the necklace then it disappears.

[But it looks like it wants you. Look at your neck.]

I shivered all over when I found it back, clocking and ticking as if I put it on myself.

"What's the meaning of this?" I asked, intended to him. But my voice is barely a whisper I don't know if he heard me.

He didn't respond at first. He stood up and outstretched his hand on the swirling strings hovering me.

I waited. But it looks like he had no intention of answering my question so I open my mouth to ask but he spoke first.

[Alice dear, have you ever wondered why you can see the string? This flimsy connection that bounds people to each other. Dictating fate, making fated encounters, connecting fated partners. Not all can see it you know, only you. But why?]

I slowly shake my head.

"My Aunt can see it too. And her Aunt. And her Grand Aunt. I'm not alone. Every woman in my family can see the strings."

He snapped his head and raised his eyebrows at me.

[I didn't know you could be this accepting. I thought you're too gloomy to handle the world I'm about to introduce you but it looks like I'm mistaken.]

He winks at me.

[Dear, you see this one here?] He reached out to touch one string hovering above us.

[Is power. To have control over the string lets you open the door towards a person's deepest darkest secrets, their hidden emotions they don't even know exist. It makes them vulnerable in your presence. You can rule over people if you want.]

I tried to move my legs. One, two - twenty strings loop around my legs, arms and torso and supported me up. Their thin lines don't hurt. They touch my skin but only that. My legs are no longer in pain. I can wiggle my toes and tap my foot.

[The strings healed you I see. It's supposed to not have that power but I guess Chordis favored you so much she's willing to help you in any way she can.]

He mentioned that name a while ago. Speaking of names, he never mentions what's his. And yet he knows mine.

"Strings power... Thank you but I'm not interested. I have no use for it. Please find someone else."

I staggered, not used to get up and walk after four months of kneeling. The sketchbook is dangling in my hand. I'm about to leave when he stops me.

[Really? You could use the string to exact your revenge on your Aunt though. You can inflict pain as much as she inflicts pain on you. You're more than capable to do that.]