Casket of Lights

Chapter 4 : Skeletons

Rossè Lilybeth's POV

I woke up as I have heard the alarm. My eyes landed towards the high ceilings, old timber, and dangling metal light fixtures with sparse functional furniture. There may possibly be one or two pieces of abstract art or photography to add a dash of color to an otherwise neutral color scheme derived from the primary materials of wood and metals.

An iconic home with an industrial design theme would be a renovated loft from a former industrial building. It was my dream to be an interior designer. But it broke along with the hope to see my parents.

I glanced towards the wall clock and its fluorescent were telling me that it was already five in the morning. My gaze shifted towards once again to the ceiling telling that it was an industrial style drawing an inspiration from a warehouse or an urban loft.

"Francine! Wake up!" Peter said, walking towards the bed of Francine. He paused for a while, leaving a sigh, and added, "You need to do the laundry!"

I stood up, fixing the bed. There was a sense of unfinished rawness in many of the elements, and it was not uncommon to see exposed brick, ductwork, and wood. "Peter your turn to wash the dishes," I added as I walk towards the water dispenser, taking a full glass of water.

"Faster, Mother Gracey will roam around twelve," Peter warned, stretching his arms and legs, a hand supporting his glasses. My eyes landed towards Francine, who was walking towards the comfort room, trying to wake her senses.

The wooden door flew open. "W-Wait! How about me?" I heard a voice said. I pivoted my feet as I looked at him.

"You'll help me!" I mumbled, whistling. I blinked. I gazed at him, furrowing my brows, and asked, "May I know your name?"

His features beamed with joy. "I-I'm Clinfort," he stuttered. He offered his hand on me. His eyes darted towards me, smiling, "Clinfort Felix." I am still locking my gaze at him. My eyes keened towards his brows that has a cut on his right brows.

The corner of my lips turned up and returned his gestured. "Clinfort, I'm Rossé," I uttered, giving him a smile. "Rossé Lilybeth," I added, pressing my lips together.

"We need to obey them or else we'll never have a chance to eat for a day!" Francine yelled from the comfort room.

"We were extremely easy to recognize," Peter uttered, fixing his glasses using his index finger, walking towards the door. "If you came late, you would all be called together as a group and punished as a group." I nodded, seconding what he said. His eyes beamed with sadness for a brief of moment but then it vanished.

"After school, there was studying, more chores, dinner and bed around nine in the evening," I added, walking towards the cabinet full of cleaning materials.

My eyes landed towards Francine who walked out of the room, pulling a basket of used clothes. "Nice to meet you, Fort," she said in a soft, calm voice. A loud closing of door muffled into our ears. He went towards my direction that made me sniffled.

The smell reminded me from the days when plastic-wrapped caramel candies and chocolates gold coins left my teeth aching, but these thoughts was happy. It was intoxicating or times, and comforting.

I walked towards the glass-clear window with a damp cloth on my hand, gently rising the handle. I smiled when I saw that the sun was like a celestial fireball in the sky. Its beams were scorching the land and sent the room a-glitter with golden sparkles.

I grabbed the soft broom gazing at the floor. It was wooden, and it creaked when stepped on. I lifted the one white, plush carpet approximately in the middle of the floor, cleaning the bottom part and placing them with a new one. It was rather clean looking, considering it was white and that it was washed regularly.

Clinfort moved towards the left of the door with a leather chair, of which was of no particular use. He changed the clothes and replaced a new one. My gaze landed towards the electronic station, where we usually charged our emergency lights and our dispenser.

"Hey, Clinfort!" I yelled, calling his attention. I blinked, pursing my lips.

He looked at me, shutting his eyes closed as shafts of light poured onto the room and into his eyes. "Yes?" he asked as he opened his eyes. Water from his hands dripped over the floor as he was washing the dirty windows.

I walked towards center-left, sweeping the floor having a rectangular window overlooking our orphanage garden. It was a pleasant view for a cold room. I paused for a while, wiping the sweat from my temples. "Why are you here? Care to share why?" I added.

I gazed towards him, furrowing my brows as he twitched the damp cloth on his hand, trying to remove the water. He looked at me for a brief of moment and saw his expression beamed with sadness. "My parents had an accident," he said, smiling bitterly.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I mumbled. After that I prevented myself to asked further questions. I continued doing the chores, walking towards the faucet to wash my hands. My eyes landed towards the four beds on the room, with white and gray covers, and white and other colors for the blanket.

I fixed them one by one as the blanket in particular has a floral design and was heavy. After doing that, I dusted off my pillow which has a white case and nothing else to it. I gazed towards the frame of the bed which was wooden and beige in color and was still clean.

Above, to the right of the bed, was a narrow, elongated window, which allowed anyone to view the sky and neighbor's fence. On the sill, there was a candle lamp, of which we always use when there are brownouts. I could often find dead insects on the sill as well, such as flies.

"How about your relatives?" I asked, pursing my lips, as if it was a very wrong question to raise.

Below that window was an altar to the right, and a small table to the left of the altar, which houses with books and random papers, I saw him arranged the papers and books in an organized fashion.

"They left me, Lily," he chuckled, shaking his head gently as he covered the altar in a red cotton cloth and wiped the statue of a saint.

I walked towards the right of the altar was our closet, which contained a rack of sweaters, a suit, scarfs, and belts. I started to organize them one by one, as it was over cluttered in the cabinet. Silence filled the air as we continued cleaning the room.

My eyes darted towards Clinfort who was in his deep thoughts, removing the cobwebs on the ceiling. The ceiling was white, but with black blotches above the meditation altar because of candle and incense smoke. This room was plain. The walls were all white, except the back room, which was covered with a blue, mosaic-patterned cloth. The curtains over the large window were also white and see-through, which almost defeat the purpose of having them.

Hours have passed when we dropped the cleaning materials back to its cabinet. "It's done," I mumbled, catching my breath. I wiped the beads of sweat dripping from my face and gazed at him. "Let's go for a walk?" I asked, flashing a sweet smile.

He just smiled and nodded, scratching his head. I gazed my held back at the room. It was one of the coldest rooms in our orphanage, as the windows were quite old and thin, and lack insulation.

During autumn and winter, sometimes a heater was brought in to feel comfortable. However, with enough heavy blankets, sleep was manageable. But the longing we always felt, was enough to made us drown in our thoughts, wishing that they would come back.

Far away from the lavender smelling orphanage, I discovered a whole new world. Having an early walk in the park could always refresh my mind. Standing at the entrance of the park, the icy breeze made me shivered.

"How long have you been here, Lily?" he asked. Sadness clouded his features.

I pursed my lips, forehead creased, gazing at him. "Two? Three? I lost count," I mumbled. The moment we have walked inside the park, the first beam of sun light flashed across the sky. My eyes darted towards the sky which quickly turned into light orange. "But it is fun being here," I added, tucking my hair into my ears.

The grassland looked like a green ocean. I could feel the softness of it like touching a blanket. I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath. Fresh air tasted like mint went into my nose and filled my lungs.

"R-Really?" he asked, stuttering. I gently shook my head, nodding. We followed the trail bringing us into a new green world. Alongside the tortuous trail, the streetlamp suddenly snubbed out. Glancing at the sky, the sun has already risen. An empty, wooden bench came into sight. However, I saw a note behind the back says, 'avoid vandalism'.

We walked towards the wooden bench and sat. "You see, we can't always have everything we want," I mumbled as the corner of my lips turned up, flashing a smile. I paused for couple of minutes and added, "Just try to look for the brighter side,"

"Have you ever dreamt of something, but you think you can never reach it?" he asked as he jammed his hands in his front pockets.

I inclined my head to look at him, hands squeezed tight and mumbled, "Yes," I gazed him mirthless laughs, shoving my hair back away from my face as the wind touched my face. "To find my real parents."

My eyes caught him blinked, cracking his knuckles and in a stuttered voice, he asked, "You never met them?" I looked heavenward, smiling.

"No, not yet," I said, face flushed red, propping my chin on my hand. I looked at him, crossing my legs. "How about you?" I asked.

He straightened his back as he looked at the sky and said, "It's simple." He paused for a bit of a moment. I gazed at his face, he was smiling from ear to ear and added, "Come to think of it, I want to an architect."

"Wow!" I said, averting my gaze towards the other orphans who were slowly dispersing. "That's a really nice goal." I smiled at the thought of it.

But the corner of my lips instantly formed into a frown. "Speaking of which, I forgot to wash the plates," I said. He looked at me and chuckled. "Be right back," I said as I bid goodbye.

It began to get cloudy. The sun was a muted, wax melt-yellow but shafts of light still poured through patches of cloud and onto the fountain. Speckled trout arced into the air and plopped onto the water's surface, seeking to grab a fly from the platoons of them hanging over the fountain.

There were no children at the park, the plates were still unclean, so I decided to go home. Home. How I miss the feeling of being home, surrounded by your parents and siblings.

The crowds continued to thin and diluted to fill negative spaces. Most were lonely wanderers, but every now and then, a small group of two or three makes their way. Their conversations muffled into my ears as I approached them. It was the right place to speak, where the expanse of the air could allow room for conversation, mixing the whispered of the wind through the trees and the shores near the cliff.

I decided to enter using the backdoor. I almost stumbled at my place, when I saw lots of rocks and tall grasses along the way. It brushed through my pants, but it did not bother me that much.

I tilted my head as I gazed towards the door. My eyes when I saw a red liquid dripping from the door. The panel backdoor was removed by some sort of razor or rollomatic chainsaw. I walked slowly, fear engulfed me, heart pounding fast.

I gazed towards the white walls, now painted in red. "I am not a human being, but a spirit and an angel derived from the hottest hell," I mumbled, reading the wall while the droplets of blood were still dripping in. I gulped. "Mother Gracey?"

"Anyone?" I yelled. I walked towards the patio, calling for everyone's name. "Peter?" But I could hear a complete silence. I crinkled my nose as I walked towards the kitchen. The air started to smell pungent that I almost gagged.

I shiver the moment I saw a masked man, killing a girl, stabbing her using an axe. "Francine?" I whispered. My hands were starting to get wet, eyes swamped with tears. Is this a nightmare? Can somebody wake me up? This is a complete mess.

Everyone's body was on the floor, bathing on their own blood. They were slaughtered like a pig. Internal organs...brains, livers, intestines and even their heart were lying at the cold white floor now turned into a pool of red coppery liquid, together with a chainsaw.

I searched for a knife and luckily, I found a small swiss knife near the door. It was used for a small grass, but it was now or never. "Who are you?" I asked. My voice cracked as I shut my eyes momentarily as I have smelled their blood.

I almost jumped on my place when he glanced at my direction and in a stern voice, he said, "I'm here to fetch you." It was enough to made me shiver, freezing me at my place.

I blinked, recomposing myself, gripping at the knife tightly as I placed them at my back. "Who are you?" I repeated even though my voice broke.

"You don't need to know, honey," he said, laughing reluctantly. 

I ran towards him, aiming for the chainsaw at the floor. I should kill him... I have to kill him...

"No," I mumbled, rushing towards the chainsaw, and slid at the other side to grab the chainsaw full of blood and some flesh from the orphan's bodies. 

But he just stood there, laughing without doing anything. He started to walk towards me, clapping his hands like a seal, nodding. "That's right, please me!"

"Stay away from me!" I yelled, clutching my fists, taking a grip on the chainsaw that was as huge as me. I searched for the switched as his pace fasten than usual. I gripped at the handle, aiming for his knees. My jaw went slightly agape when the sound of grilling and his screams muffled into my ears. The mixture of his flesh and his blood splatted into my face. His body was cut in half, almost making me throw up into my place.

My knees fell into the floor, snatching the knife into my pockets and stabbed the guy several times, disregarding the blood splashing into my face. A loud bang made me back into my senses. I followed the source and saw Clinfort, biting his trembling lips, as his eyes were flooded with tears.

"L-Lily?" Clinfort saw me holding a knife in the air, the edge was pointing at him. His hands were trembling in fear as his ice cream dropped on the floor.

He did change. Or am I? I never killed him. It was just an accident. It was not my intention.

A tear slipped from my eye. A loud thug made me woke up from my senses. I sat from the wooden benches and gazed towards the school garden. An emerald patch of grass was surrounded by overgrown hedges and shrubs. A single, bulging boulder sat at the front right, and on top of it was a message carved into the stone. Class is always boring when its just in a first semester. It is just temporary...everything is.

After a night in Redwood's house, perhaps, I'd rather be alone than play all night with his huge dog. I shook my head as I recall Redwood peacefully snoring at the floor while I am in the bed with his dog.

I sighed as I averted my gaze towards the rows of flowers were growing without boundaries, there was not even a single weed in sight; they were highlighted with garden lights. The hedges and shrubs reached one point five-meter-high, but they would not grow much taller than this. A couple of messages carved on stones were around the garden, directing visitors around in a natural way. Vines and roots slightly disrupt the pristine look as they hungrily searched for even more pieces of land to expand to.

I stretched my legs, heart racing fast, and gazed towards the blue dark sky. I blinked and started to walk towards the arrays of mango trees. The ornamental boulder demands all attention, but in doing so also drew the attention to everything near it. The rows of flowers were hard to miss, and the hedges and shrubs made sure they were paid attention to as well, but you just could not compete with the ornamental boulder.

I shook my head. I begun to feel anxious. My palms sweat, muscle tensed, shoulders stiffened. I looked around but faces were unfamiliar, and figures flitted around.

I stopped. My eyes widen as I saw a four-year old boy climbing up in a tree. I looked up and saw a kitten. I instantly grabbed the boy, putting him down the ground.

"Hey, little hero," I said, tucking my hair into my ears, still hesitating to approach.

"Hi, Miss beautiful," he said. His eyes beamed with sadness; tears welled up in his eyes. "Please, save the cat," he added, hands placed on each other in his chest, begging. Tragic! How could I resist someone like him? Those pitiful eyes. 

I smiled at him, patting his brown hair. "Perhaps I can lend you a hand?" 

He looked at me and nodded continuously. I examined his face. His eyes were as black as midnight having freckles in his face. His features reminded me of someone.

The corner of my eyes wrinkled, a birman cat breed. It has very unusual markings, looking like a pointed cat with four white feet and deep blue eyes, like mine.

I fixed my hair, pursing my lips. "When I count to three," I said, pausing for a while, averting my glance towards the young boy. "I'm going to catch her, and I'll lend you the cat, alright?" I added.

He nodded. "Aye, aye captain!" he yelled, smiling reaching his eyes. He placed his hands in the air, cheering.

I shook my head, smiling. "Alright, stay here," I said. I climbed up, carefully gripping at the branch of the tree. "Come here, baby. I've got you," I added, reaching for the cat. I blew a sigh as I touched her fur... medium long and soft and silky.

"One," I mumbled. I was about to pivot my feet when a branch caught my arm. I winched for a brief of a moment. I recomposed myself and continued, "Two... three," I counted as I tried to lift the kitten.

I gently slid at the branch, slowly handling him the kitten, and said, "Eyes on her." His mouth was wide open, shouting out loud, catching the kitten, rocking her.

The corner of my lips twitched, as I pulled myself from the tree and said, "There you go, sweetheart." I was about to place my hand over my head when the corner of my eyes caught a blood dripping from my arms.

Awe transformed his face. "Are you alright?" he asked. 

If I were to tell the color of his eyes, it would be purple. "It's just a scratch," I uttered, nodding. 

He tilted his head to one side, petting the kitten. 

"Where's your mother?" I asked, walking towards the bench. I snatched out my handkerchief from my left pocket and gently tied it on my wound to stop the bleeding.

He placed the kitten on the bench. Then, he gave a bitter smile. The kind of smile that I wore every time I miss my parents. "She's in a box, sleeping," he whispered, climbing up the wooden bench. He was about to bite his nails, but I touched his hand, dropping it down.

"Wait, you need to get cleaned first," I mumbled, petting the white kitten on the bench.

Minutes have passed when he broke the silence, the color drained out from his face and said, "My daddy will get angry." He nibbled his lower lips and leaned on the bench.

I furrowed my brows at him, crossing my legs while still petting the kitten and asked, "Why is it?"

The corner of his lips formed a frown. "Because I'm talking to strangers," he said, pouting his lips, gently patting the kitten on my lap.

"Alright then, I'm Lilybeth," I mumbled, smiling at him, extending my hand. I straightened my back, giving him a smile, and added, "How about you?"

He was about to answer when I heard a voice from my back. A dark, cold voice that made me shiver in my place. "Alex, what are you doing?"