It was dark outside and I couldn’t see well past just a few steps ahead of me.

The room I and Harrivetta were in had only furniture inside, no one else was present.

Furthermore, I felt like something important was going to happen, something I didn’t expect.

“Now that it is clear there are no witnesses, you can state your requests.” I tell my friend as I sit down on the sofa.

“To put my words into the request would be difficult, Pyrecilla.” Harrivetta answers. “The issue is a matter ought to be talked over, not handled as mere injury.”

“It is so profound then? That pins my interests, go ahead.” I say as I get comfortable.

“Say what you will, but your diligence in saving your mother’s name has been the talk of many.” Harrivetta only now sits down. “The absence of your mother, since I made sure to ask if anyone saw her, is one of the issues.”

“If you truly did ask everyone, then I’m impressed. Splendid job, though I reckon that alone doesn’t prove she wasn’t there, right?” I point out.

“Aye, as I feared you would state that.” Harrivetta releases a sigh. “I dare to say now, if they couldn’t convince you, neither will I. Yet, do consider the evidence that is stacked against your opinion.”

“I wish to believe, though there would be no issue if she wasn’t to the party, now wouldn’t be?” I answer. “Therefore I don’t see the issue.”

“It is precisely that you believe, you want to believe, which is the problem.” Harrivetta explains. “I took you for a person who read books that speak of the difference of facts and opinions, but what I’m getting towards is how your relationship is biased. Not on facts and objective reality, but on wishful thinking.”

“And you say so despite mentioning the beauty of the language.” I tell her. “It is again from the belief I find myself glad that she is my mother.”

“That least is true, you have the emotions to account for your decision. But do please let me repeat your words.” Harrivetta leans forward and crosses her legs. “You are attached to the belief that your mother is a good woman, despite the things she has done, to which there is evidence for. Perhaps, as you said, only if you let go first, then you will understand.”

Pyrecilla couldn’t believe her own ears, her best friend, Harrivetta has turned against her.

She wanted the red haired girl to understand how much she was lying to herself,

that her imagine of her mother was solely based on her imagination and wishful thinking,

that she blocked out all the facts and decided to close the door to all objective opinions,

that everyone else besides her was stating the truth, despite a painful one, while she was the only one denying it.

“You know why I’m forcing you to hear this?” Harrivetta asks.

“It doesn’t matter, say your worst if you must.” Pyrecilla replies.

“Do you still wish to escape?” Harrivetta exclaims as she reaches her friend's shoulders.

“And you are giving me a choice in this matter?” Pyrecilla turns her head away.

“I’m asking what is happening in your mind.” Harrivetta says with a calm voice.

“It is as you say, it’s the truth.” Pyrecilla nods.

“I pardon, you make no sense.” Harrivetta shakes her head.

“And I thought you of my friend.” Pyrecilla sheds a tear.

“This is what a friend is supposed to do!” Harrivetta states. “I am here so you will be able to fight.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The tall blond girl embraces her friend, despite that Pyrecilla doesn’t react.

Her body is stiff, void of any moment, just the heart is beating in silence.

Not even the warmth of Harrivetta is able to induce a reaction on her skin.

Cold as it is, it doesn’t shiver, rather it turns pale, as if the life from it is starting to vanish.

“Just like you said, I have been finding the happiness within what I have, with my own individual needs.” Harrivetta explains. “I knew that with my family I couldn’t find peace, so instead I created my own, fictional relationship with Davithea. She became a little sister to me.”

Pyrecilla responds with silence.

“It is the father who didn’t agree with my idea, because Davithea was an orphan and adopting her would blemish the bloodline, as well as our reputation.” Harrivetta says. “That is why she was suggested as a maid, so she could still join our household. Yet, it was my own weakness that allowed her into the family as she was. I am to blame for that.”

Pyrecilla remains motionless.

“And I only understood this because of the smile on Davithea’s face. It was fake, it was made up only to cheer me up.” Harrivetta voices. “From the start she wouldn’t understand the situation she was in, that she was staying with strangers away from her true family. And that is to say, you also did your part.”

“The time I send her supposed father to jail?” Pyrecilla asks.

“Aye, that was your contribution. What that allowed her is to believe in lies, much like you do in case of your relationship with your mother.” Harrivetta mentions. “It is why she will never truly grow into a proper lady, I fear, just my older sisters and perhaps even myself. But I digress, perhaps there is still a chance if I will be honest with her.”

“If she wins your favour again as a younger sister?” Pyrecilla suggests.

“Nay, I wish her to face her own family and her own father, which might be difficult.” Harrivetta responds. “I have come to realize that family is not just simple roles, like mother, father, or daughter. It is the bonds created by blood that brings us together, despite my own mistakes, despite my older sisters’ lack of sincerity, and despite my father’s leniency.”

“Then tell me if it wasn’t so that you enjoyed the role of the older sister?” Pyrecilla smiles as she crosses her legs.

Recently, there was a letter delivered to the mansion. It stated that Davithea's father died in the prison cell from the cold.

However, at the time of delivery she was alone with maids, while we were at the party, thus she opened and read the letter herself.

And that is when she had a conversation with Gorgie, who was also there at the time.

The boy said that it is true, that her father died in prison, her only family she had left.

But that wasn’t met with a good response from the little black haired girl.

She was furious, both at the notion that this man was her father and at Gorgie who insisted that was the case.

How could anyone deny her own opinion, she thought, as she stomped at the ground.

But what happened later was that she simply stopped caring altogether and ran away from home.

Because Harrivetta wasn’t present to defend her, because Gorgie was against her,

because for the very first time she felt like she didn’t belong in the mansion.

“My father might have been right about Davithea, not me.” Harrivetta admits, as she leans back into the sofa. “He knew that my personal happiness was worth little in the end, that if I were to sacrifice my need for a little sister, I would have accepted her as a maid.”

“Sacrifice your happiness for others?” Pyrecilla asks.

“Be happy for others were your words, weren’t they?” Harrivetta asks. “I never really understood why or what I am doing while I decorated her hair, while we slept and bathed together. Much like the occasion with you, I only tried to make up for my unfulfilling childhood when I didn’t receive love. I wanted a second chance.”

“And you say you no longer desire it?” Pyrecilla smiles as she comes close to her friend.

“Nay, just like the nature of a person can’t be changed by mere words, hence I must comply with the mould I was put in.” Harrivetta replies, as her face is stoic. “I was brought up in rigour and so I mustn’t forget manners. As sad as it is, I can’t be anyone else, I can’t be the joyful young lady you asked me to be.”

“Be it so, don’t just tell me that you desire to give up. Show me.” Pyrecilla whispers as her forehead touches her friend’s while her hands embrace her back.

Pyrecilla knew one thing, how hard it is to give up on your dreams, on your fantasies.

She survived one life as being a man who could only wish for one thing, for him to be reborn as a girl one day.

Nor fiction or Virtual Reality could cause him to eliminate or fulfil his desire to one day wake up in a female body.

It was something he couldn’t get rid of, no matter what, and that’s why he was sure that Harrivetta was wrong.

“Tell me Harrivetta, will you let me be? Or will you stop me?” Pyrecilla whispers as her lips come close to her friend’s.

At the same time, there was a funeral going on, in a different place entirely.

It was Ellien’s father who was going to get buried again. However this time it was done during the night,

in secrecy so that no one would know. Minorta and her brother helped of course,

but the weather didn’t. It was snowing and raining at the same time.

The visibility was poor and the cold wind wanted them to go back.

But they didn’t, they all endured the trail. Both Ellien’s and Minorta’s families said their prayers.

And just at that moment in time, in the blond haired girl’s mind, an idea appeared.

A final judgement, the death. What would Ellien’s father say to the judge at the gate to heaven?

That he led an honest life? But why did he have to die twice? Would that even matter?

But more so, Minorta was thinking if she was being honest with herself, with being the spirit medium.