JINX

EPISODE 31

|Tuesday, 20th of February

I've seen a lot of expressions that I almost memorized every meaning of it. But when these new guests arrived into this sh*thole? It seems like I see new facial expressions as I see new pair of eyes, different shades and height. . . I mean, where do these expressions come from?

The essential idioms were happiness, if a lip is curved in a parabola like the unit circle in Basic calculus, sadness when it's turned upside down, angered when eyebrows are almost colliding, and expressionless when the lip is in a thin line like a person doesn't care at all.

Three kids, or probably as the same age as me, joined us yesterday, and I am undeniably worried. . . Not for the possibility that I have more competitors soon be included in my list, but because I worry that they might deal with a more strict and more gore situation, now that we're about to witness Pastor Roman's capability, as well as Ruther, who becomes more intimidating each time we get to face him. . . it is as if he's been doing a lot of this to be next in the line of this sick abducting game that up until now, I don't see a BIG reason that they're doing this.

I know there's more into it. . .

I don't admire Pastor Roman's work. . . I certainly don't. Why? It's because this is a model of his devotion over his belief that he only finds to exist when he kills an innocent soul. Have we forsaken anyone? Did we break any law that we thought that as time passes by, the governments should have declared of normalizing these sudden changes such as ratifying gender orientation? What's wrong with being part of a community that screams equality? Should we accept this fate entirely? Or should the government and the world and these two devoted individuals instead adjust for our rights?

Is being a member of a specific community makes us less of a human?

Is embracing this kind of truth only pulls us away towards redemption?

I don't know. . .  I guess— no. . . I understand that the government already has a f*cked up the system.

These leaders can indeed bend the laws with the use of their little f*cking fingers.

Should I be a politician then soon to get my revenge on them? Wouldn't that be fun? Okay, I'll add that thought in my book of "things that needed considerations."

Sincerely,

Miguel.

•••

Miguel woke up the earliest among them all. Not because he couldn't sleep, but because he couldn't sleep any longer as if his body clock is already a mess.

It was only ten o'clock in the evening, and he's beyond grateful that not one of pastor Roman's guard came interrupting their rest. . . For him, it was the most still afternoon for them. It could be the best day if not only were they forced to eat using just their mouths in as early as six o'clock if Miguel's guess is correct.

He looks around him to see all of them are still asleep. No one even noticed him wake up, making him use his time to get down from the bed and spend time with his pages. When he's already staring at a blank sheet with a pen in his left hand, he decided to write again as documentation for his day. . . But in advance, he dated it for tomorrow.

As he engages himself through writing, he couldn't help his attention get caught up with his rumbling stomach. His being hungry then makes him have an idea to stuff his hunger.

After finishing the diary intended for the next day, he flips the pages through until he stopped into the last page of his notebook. . . Clean dirty white sheet comes into his vision as the page doesn't have anything written on it yet. Having a doubt, he decided to tear the paper away and crumble it as he watches the sheet got easily crushed. He gulps as he closed his eyes before putting it inside his mouth. He then starts to chew the food, tasting something he doesn't imagine having for dinner. But who is he to complain anymore? He certainly doesn't have a choice.

One sheet followed by another one, and then another one, until he stuffed his stomach with five clean doodle-less pages from his diary. And it saddened him to see that he's come to this part where he's starting to see himself eating his whole notebook of memories.

"F*ck," Miguel mumbles as he's about to tear another paper but stopped himself immediately, knowing he will pull another page if he dares to continue. . . And he doesn't want to eat the remaining empty sheets that are only calculated for the next few days, not even knowing how many more days will it last him.

It's a moment of silence for him, but not for Kitty, who struggles hard to find sleep. She's been moving back and forth, trying to find the comfort even to be j conscious for an hour or two that she can consider as sleep.

She opens her eyes reluctantly as she stares into the darkness above her, having the feeling that something like a human with horns might come into the light and take her life. But then, as Kitty's about to take close her eyes to shut the fear away, she hears almost faint rustle from not afar that made her turn to that direction. With just a tiny fraction of light coming from the moon that passes through the small window, she sees a figure from the other side, three steps closer to the metal door. That then made Kitty stand up from her bed, deciding to approach the person, hoping that it's not the demon she's scared about.

Kitty saunters in tiptoes, not wanting to disturb the figure. But then, as she's just a few more steps away, the person talks.

"What are you doing?" He asks that made her flinch. She froze into that position, not knowing if she should continue or should back out. But before making a proper decision, the figure turns to his shoulder, making her stop herself from breathing.

"You look like a stalker. And don't even think that I don't know you are walking towards ms because I can still see you from here." He says that makes Kitty realize that the light provided by the moon is illuminating over her back, creating a shadow.

"Sorry. . . I didn't mean to act weird." She explains. "I guess I should head back—"

"No."

Kitty stops again, but this time, too curious about what the person in front of him has in mind.

"No?" One word question comes out into her mouth that made him chuckle before turning his head down to where he is facing earlier.

"Well, you wanted to come here, so why would I stop you? Besides, I know that you couldn't sleep too. . . So, why not join me here?" He gestures by tapping the space beside him. Kitty doubted for a second but decided to sit beside the man she only knew this morning as they stare into the wall in front of them.

"Well, mister, do you often do this?" Kitty asks as she noticed him closing a book. The man beside him turns to him with such curiosity.

"Do often what, exactly?" He asks.

"Well, this one right here. . . starting at the wall in the middle of the night? Or reading something as darkness envelops you?"

"Reading?" He asks again.

"Well, I see you secretly closing a book or notebook and tucking it secretly inside your backpack. . ." Kitty admits, making him smile into the darkness.

"Well, maybe I do, or maybe I don't. . . It depends on how you see it. . . I actually don't care how you interpret what you see right now." He says that makes Kitty smile.

"Well, I think there's more to it than just by closing a book. . . It must be the most valuable item you have right now. . . It could be a photo album, a sketchbook or even better, a diary. . . But no matter what that is, I know that it's something that helps you have that faith burning inside."

Her words quickly find it's way into his heart, making him zip his bag and pulls it close as it rests into his lap.

"The name's Miguel, by the way, I remember it correctly, your name's Kitty, right?" He asks, which makes Kitty nod.

"Then what a pleasure to meet you, Mister Miguel." She says as she is about to extend her hand for a handshake when Miguel stops her.

"I'm not a fan of handshakes any more." He confesses that makes Kitty retrieve her hand.

"Sorry. . . And now I'm just curious. Why no handshakes anymore?" She asks.

"Well, I used to handshake anyone because at first, I thought that shaking someone's hand will be a symbolism of trust. . . But humans have failed me after the handshake. That's why I don't believe in it anymore." He explains, making Kitty nod.

"So, why are you awake anyway? Hungry?" This time, it was Miguel's turn to throw a question to keep the conversation going.

"Well. . ." Kitty pauses to take a moment to breathe before continuing. "I was, um. . . I have these little nightmares about, Uhm, demons that are chasing me and that they want me dead? Something like that. . ."

"How 'little' these nightmares are we talking about? Are those demons as small as a dwarf or. . ."

"I'm not seriously talking about their height or size. . . I just call them little nightmares because, in just a short time of dreaming about them, it's enough to keep me up all night."

"So, it's about how these nightmares last?"

"Yup. . . The shortest nightmare I had lasted for like five seconds. When I try to fight the fright, I only stayed for freaking ten seconds in that dream before deciding to not force myself from the torture of running all around into darkness. . ."

"Well, when did these nightmares started?" Miguel asks as they continue to stare into the dull painted wall.

"It started when my father decided to hit me." The way she started makes Miguel feel the pain. Not for the same reason, but because of the same family member that caused them so much pain. "He's been accusing me of my mother's death because she died the moment she gave birth to me. Since that day, he's been treating me like I'm a black sheep and that he'll always tell me that I'm just bad luck and that only if he could wish for another kid, he won't want to wish for me anymore."

"Then one day, when he came home one night, he's drunk. . . He then slaps me, thought it'd make me happy. . . That's the first time he laid a hand on me. . . I thought it would end up, though, but every single night that he's coming home and pretty drunk again and again and he would start to hurt me every night, every hit comes heavier and heavier until I couldn't take it anymore. . . I know I have to do something to protect myself."

"And what did you do?" Miguel finally asks as Kitty already expected him to ask it. She exhales as she closes her eyes, imagining every single detail of that moment. With closed eyes, she manages to reply.

"When that night finally came for me to snap, all I could think about is to escape into his grasp forever, that's why I decided to run away. . . But then, unlucky for me, I happen to run past the kitchen. And then, at that island kitchen, I saw that sharp metal lying into an unwashed chopping board. That's when I see my future without worrying about him any more. . . That's why I did what I have to do. . ." Kitty pauses as she decides to turn to her shoulder, only to catch Miguel's gaze already on her.

"I killed him. . . I killed my father, mister Miguel. And it was the biggest thing I've did in my entire life without any hint of regret at all. . . I killed him to set me free, and I became free. But the dreams I have become shorter and more gore. . . That's why up until now, I'm scared of my nightmares. . . To what it can do to me. But lucky for me, I happen to survive."

"We're you orphaned?"

"Nope. . . An old lady from our neighbor, widowed, helped me win the case over my dad. She told them about everything she heard when I couldn't speak myself because I'm too overhauled to the adrenaline that hasn't washed out after killing my own father. And I am beyond grateful that she has a lot of evidence to support her claims. . . Turns out that she's been videoing and recording every argument I had with my father. That's why I stayed with her."

"That's. . . I mean— shh. . ." Miguel quickly stops as   Kitty pays attention to silence. "Someone's coming."

Alarmed, they both run into their designated bunker beds as they both close their eyes and pretended to be asleep. . . Couple of seconds later, they hear the same shocking sound of baton hitting the metals.

"Réveillez-Vous, enculés! J'espère que vous avez suffisamment dormi car ce soir est la nuit pour utiliser vos énergies!" [Wake up, motherf*ckers!  I hope you had enough sleep because tonight is the night to use your energies! ]

"Nous sommes sur le point de jouer à un autre jeu." [We're about to play another game.]