She’s going to kill me today…

Havanna scurried towards her house, even dashed at times, her schoolbag slamming on her back when she did, the bear-shaped keychain clanking away. The streetlights were already on, the new ones burned bright while the old ones flickered, insects buzzing around the bulbs. And even though she was glad to have them light up her path, she wished they didn’t, for every patch of light she passed reminded her that she was late, too late.

Her mum told her to come home early, she didn’t ask. Now if only her dad could distract her mum and take the heat again…

I won't go down by myself!

At worst, she would put all the blame on May, it was her fault anyway. She dragged her around for this long, first the bookstore then the clothes showroom. In the end, she didn’t even buy anything except the book she wanted.

The final turn, and she was on the homestretch. She could already see Ewan’s house, his door shut as always at this hour of the day, and after that was hers.

The lights were off, and the windows veiled the insides. Had they gone out? She thought. A bleak hope bloomed in her heart; she just might survive this if they did. The well-oiled main gate opened smoothly. Tiptoeing her way across the small courtyard-garden, avoiding the crisp dried leaves, she unlocked the door with her key and sneaked in.

“Mum, I’m home,” she whispered, but the dogs barking in the alleys was the only reply she got. They’d all gathered near her house this evening for some reason...

“Dad?” She raised her voice this time, but it was still a whisper. The hall was pitch dark, only the outlines of the dining table and the sofas pronounced their presence. The whistling wind coming in through the crevices of the window sighed a ghost’s whispers—the fresh memory of the ‘Nocturnals’ painted the resemblance. The weird smell in the air twitched her nose, it was metal of some kind, iron perhaps… Her own house greeted her like a stranger today, an eerie stranger.

“Are they really out?” she murmured while taking off her shoes and putting them in the shoe cabinet. With the slippers on, she groped for the light switches on the left wall and tapped them on.

And they brightened the hall with a dazzling white light…

Two headless bodies lay on the dining table, holding hands. A crescent guillotine blade with a long rope attached to it stabbed the wooden table, just beyond their necks. Two chopped heads with their eyes closed and serene smiles rested on the drenched crimson floor, not far from the table.

Paint?

She looked at the thick red liquid trickling down the table, flooding the floor, then stared at the heads—her mind pulled a blank. The two heads looked like her mum and dad, but that wasn’t possible. Her parents were still alive, the heads couldn’t be theirs, it couldn’t be….

The heavy stench of iron in the air smothered her, or she might not be breathing at all, she couldn’t tell anymore. Her vision blurred; her knees buckled as the realization seeped in. It was all a nightmare, it must be a nightmare, she heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed on the floor. And the world went dark.

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…..

“It’s a cruel way to kill someone.” A woman whispered near her.

Who is it?

Havanna wanted to speak but no voice came out. Her body didn’t listen to her either, her eyelids were leaden, and her chest weighed on her.

“If only someone noticed it earlier, they could be saved.” A different voice whispered this time.

“It was a candle, right? Alas.”

What’re they talking about?

A sigh followed. “If only she came home earlier.”

“Shh. She might hear you.”

“Don’t worry, she’s knocked out cold.”

“What’re you guys doing here? Stop gossiping and do your job.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the two whisperers said.

It was my fault…What was?

Her world fell into silence again.

…..

“I’m sorry Havanna. I didn’t want to do it, I was forced to,” May said, her pitch undulating. Her body snaked around, blood dripping down her face. She stood beside the dining table in the hall. A candle flickered near her, and a taut rope stretched above it, tied to a guillotine blade hanging above the dining table.

“I told you to come home early. If only you did…” Her mum turned her head towards Havanna and said, lying on the table, her eyes going round and round in the socket.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was all fated,” her dad said, lying beside her mum, staring at the guillotine blade with a serene smile. Soon his facial skin melted and only his muscles, fat, and skull remained. “It was all fate,” he said in grinding whispers.

The candle charred the rope and burned it away. Havanna sobbed and reached out to snuff its fire, but her feet kept her still, and the ground glued her back. She watched on, her tears drenching her face then her neck, as the candle incinerated the rope and the guillotine blade plunged for her parents, cleaving their heads off, the thud announcing their death.

A deafening roar shook her world and jolted her. Havanna woke up in her bed, gasping for air, drenched in sweat, clutching the bed sheets. The ceiling fan was wobbly and blurry, she rubbed her teary eyes.

Five years…you still won't let me go….

Tiny rays of light poured in through the curtain gaps, dust floating around. It must be daylight already, she had overslept, like always.

Skip school today…

Her undies were wet and sticky, her temples ached in waves, her broken lips hurt. She curled up and covered herself with the blanket again. It was already way past school time; it was better to sleep some more.

Yet, a bellow barged in, quivering the windowpanes, and jerked her up.

Ewan?

The voice was too familiar, it was of the one whose mere sight supported her on rainy days, his existence kept her going through her torturous life.

She threw the quilt aside and bolted to the balcony, almost tripping over the blanket, the wooden floor echoing the muffled thump of her naked feet.

Fire blazed around on the other side of the fence. Tongues of flame licked and engulfed Ewan’s bare left hand, and it sizzled. Havanna gasped and covered her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks. Even from afar, his agony screamed aloud.

Soon he plunged his hand inside the water bucket. And even the water fizzled from his burning hand, just how hot was it… How much did it hurt… Her cries turned into sobs, and the flood of tears blurred her vision.

…..

Even when the moons replaced the sun and the owls hooted, her tears didn’t relent. His uncaring behavior for pain, his brutality, and his tender smile for his Astylind, the contrast carved an impression on her.

He was someone she could relate to, they both experienced the same life, not to mention he was the only one left whom she could call family now, even though they had drifted apart. But unlike her, he was already moving forward towards his future. Could she do it too? Could she too make something of her life? Could she get rid of her guilt and walk ahead? A seed of hope took root, budded, and bloomed.

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