Myosotis - Exorcist's Beginnings

How can we not dwell in the past, when that is all we have for certain? Our past and our death are the only certainties we have in life. Even if our memories get mixed or even if they get erased that does not make the past vanish and in a way it is always there in the back of our minds. The past does not matter? What is gone is gone? The past does matter, it is what makes us today and it is what influences our future decisions, for better or for worse. After all, it is our past experiences that give us wisdom. The search for our past is a search to discover who we truly are, isn't it? Isn't it? Can people live without knowing their past? Can people really leave everything behind and only look forward without looking back? Perhaps, but not for the Delacroix family. "Have you girls thought about what you want to be when you grow up?" asked the father in his green car to his young daughters who were sitting on the backseat. "I don't know. Something cool" replied the eldest. "You still don't know? You're old enough to have an inkling" said the father. "Well, I don't. What do you want me to tell you? And I'm still thirteen, I have plenty of time to decide" she retorted. "Sure, you do still have some years. What about you, sweetheart?" "I think I want to be a doctor" replied the youngest. The oldest made a nauseated sound. "Ugh! You will have to touch people and put things up their ass!" "Macaria! Will you watch the language?", reprehended the father shocked at his daughter's language. "Who taught you to speak like that? And being a doctor is a wonderful thing. Don't listen to your sister." "I want to be a doctor to treat people, not to put things up their ass" explained the youngest and the oldest laughed, however the father did not find it funny. "Do you see what you did? Now, our Benedicta learnt a bad word. You're such a troublemaker" said the father. "So what? She was going to learn it sooner or later. Be grateful it wasn't something worse" retorted Macaria and the father just sighed. The three finally arrived home from a regular school day. It was the beginning of November, which meant leaves were falling, still the trees were not completely naked. The neighbors’ trees were still colorful, which contrasted with the Delacroix's dry garden. It was not like they forgot or were too lazy to tend to their own garden, it was just the lady of that house liked it that way for her own reasons. The front door to their house was on the second floor, which meant they had to climb up stairs to get to it. Along the stairs there were busts of people made of marble and on top of the staircase stood the lady of the house. She would look scary to most people, but also majestic. Her skin was pale and her hair was blonde and short. Her whitish dress was elegant and traced her voluptuous body perfectly. She was also wearing an ample hat on her head, since she was not interested in getting a tan. On her arms, she was carrying a sphinx cat with big green eyes and a pearl collar. She also had a beauty mark on her left cheekbone, which made her look even more sensual. "Good afternoon, my beautiful white raven" said the father, Mr. Virgil Delacroix. "Good afternoon, my evergreen love and children. I was watching the garden. I'm inclined to think the grass is getting greener with last night’s rain", Lady Genevieve lamented. "Oh, what a tragedy mom" replied Macaria with sarcasm, which was not appreciated by her mother, who glared at her. "It will dry out again, once it snows." "I guess you're right. But let's go inside, the setting sun is upsetting me." She served them orange cake and tea in the kitchen. Everything was well, everything was peaceful, it was 1925 after all. The world was prosperous overall. Virgil was an artist; he did some paintings, but focused mainly on sculpture. He adored sculpting strange faces and he liked to display them outside of his house. There were also many vain people at this time, who had a lot of money and they sure liked to spend it. Virgil did not criticize them, not only because he was turning into one of them, but because he benefited from their vanity, as they ordered many busts and statues from him. As his artistic life was going well, Lady Genevieve was thinking about quitting her job as a nurse to focus on another passion of hers, which was writing, but also on her family. On the stove, she was cooking some fish for her cat, Mr. Mortimer. He was purring at Benedicta, who was petting him. "Mom, I have been thinking and why don't you plant some flowers in the garden next year? Our house looks abandoned with the garden like that. Or at least, let the grass be green" said Benedicta blowing on her hot honey tea. "You say that because you don't know how tragic it is to care for something and have it be taken away from you. What good is it to care for a garden to have it be massacred by hot weather or by snow?" argued Genevieve. "Mom, why are you so dramatic? It's just plants. Even if they die, you can buy new ones" said Macaria. "You're testing me today, girl. How can you say they are just plants? They are living beings, they deserve more respect!" Genevieve reprehended. "Is that why you don't kill spiders too? Are you telling me we live in a house full of webs, because of that?!" Macaria asked, appalled at her mother's logic. "Obviously" Genevieve replied bluntly. "Father, can you believe this?!" asked Macaria to Virgil, who was more entertained by the newspaper he was reading. "Can't I have a moment of peace?" Macaria was upset for a reason. That house was quite something and her parents had quite a interesting taste. It was filled with antiquities and spider webs. In fact, the house was cleaned around those webs, because Genevieve did not want to destroy their homes and Virgil couldn't care less and found her adorable and wholesome for her solidarity towards spiders. However, it did bring trouble to Macaria, since her schoolmates mocked her and accused her of living in a haunted house, which made her a ghost. It did not help the fact that her father was a popular surreal horror artist, which made her classmates say that his work was some sort of biography and inspired by his life at home. "One of these days I will dust off those webs and water the garden!" Macaria said in a rampage and ran away from the kitchen, which startled the cat, but the others did not seem to care much. Mr. Virgil sighed. "Ah... Those teenage hormones are starting to kick in." "Let's hope she doesn't turn into a slut" said Benedicta, which shocked her parents. "Whe... where did you learn that word?!" asked Virgil. "Do you know what it means?" asked Genevieve. "Yes. It's a girl who only thinks about boys, right? Macaria uses it all the time", Benedicta replied and her parents looked at each other baffled. "I guess I'll have to talk to that girl" said Virgil and Genevieve agreed. "Are you not going instead of me? You're a woman after all." "No, you volunteered first" argued Genevieve and Virgil realized he only played himself. Virgil climbed up the stairs to the attic, where they had an art atelier that was quite messy. The window was open to let out the smell of paint, which was smeared all over the place. Among used and unused canvas and unfinished sculptures, Macaria was watching a moon-shaped dreamcatcher with amethyst stones and purple feathers that was swaying gently by the autumnal breeze. Macaria and her sister had gifted it to their father a couple of years ago, because he had recurring nightmares. Virgil sat next to his older daughter, who had started sprinkling a finished painting of hers with red paint. "What does it mean?" asked Virgil, after seeing how she was ruining her own painting. "It means rebellion, of course" Macaria replied. "Yes, of course. And why are you rebelling?" "Because" she replied bluntly. "Is it because you wanted to have a normal family? A family who has a nice garden and does not care about spiders?" "Well, you know... It would be a good start. I'm fine with mom caring about living things; I don't even care that much about what stupid kids say at school. The main problem is that I really hate spiders, to be honest" Macaria admitted, sprinkling paint more aggressively just thinking about those arachnids. "Since you were honest with me, I'm going to be honest with you too. I also detest spiders" said Virgil. "Right?! They are hideous!" exclaimed Macaria. "Oh God, yes! I loathe them" agreed Virgil. "Then why don't you say that to mom?" asked Macaria. "I promised to always make her happy and not killing spiders makes her happy" he replied, but Macaria was not satisfied with his over-simplistic answer. "Then buy her a tarantula and let her take care of it in a tank or whatever. Why do we have to suffer to make her happy? Does she care more about spiders than about us?" Macaria asked. "Oh, I see what the problem is now. Your mother loves you very much and would do anything for you. Think of it as an endurance test, a conquest of fear if you will. Now, go downstairs and apologize to your mother and stop using slurs, especially around your sister." "Fine, I'll apologize for threatening her with a spider m******e and watering grass." Suddenly, they heard a noise. They looked behind them and there she was. Benedicta had sneakily tiptoed up to them with a spider on her hands and scared them with it. "Please, tell me she's adopted" said Macaria to her father and Benedicta giggled. ................................................................... The next day was a pleasant Wednesday. The falling leaves were dancing with the wind, while Macaria and Benedicta were waiting for their father to get them home. They were in front of the school's gate and waited and waited to the point of getting worried. An hour had passed and still no sign of Virgil's green car. "Excuse me, did our father call or something?" asked Macaria to a janitor and he just shrugged oblivious. "This is weird." "Do you think something happened?" asked Benedicta. "I don't know. I would say he got stuck at work, but he works at home so... Maybe he got distracted and lost track of time" Macaria replied. "Should we just walk home then?" "I don't know... I'm afraid he may arrive and get worried if he doesn't see us here. Let's wait fifteen more minutes." Five minutes later, they finally saw the green car that their father adored, however he was not inside of it. It was actually their mother, Lady Genevieve, who came to pick them up, which was the first time it had happened in years. She had a preoccupied expression, which made her daughters inquisitive. "Did something happen to father?" asked Macaria through the car window. Genevieve sighed. "I don't know. Just come in and I'll explain it on our way home." Both girls entered the car. Macaria sat on the front seat next to her mother and Benedicta was on the backseat all by herself. The car bounced a little, when Genevieve started it. It was obvious she had not driven in a while; still the rest of the ride was quite smooth. "What happened?" Macaria repeated her question. "I don't know. When I looked at the clock, I realized it was already time for you two to be home. Then, I waited a little bit thinking you would be back soon enough and still no one appeared. I looked outside and that was when I saw your father's car parked in the same place and I thought to myself maybe there was something wrong with the car and your father walked all the way here to pick you up and that was why you were late. Still, it is not that far away to take that much time and so I decided to pick up the other key to see if the car worked and when it did, I came here." "But where is father then?" the girls asked. "I don't know. He went to pick you up at the regular hour and I haven't seen him since", Genevieve replied. She noticed how her honest answer made her daughters nervous and decided to appease them, even though she did not know what to think herself. "I'm sure he went to resolve some issues first and lasted longer than he expected or saw a friend and decided to go chat with him somewhere and lost track of time. He will be back home soon enough. Maybe he is already home." Macaria was unsure if her mother was trying to calm them or calm herself with those excuses, but they hoped their mother was right. Nevertheless, they decided to give a couple more hours before going to the police, after all Genevieve's imaginary scenarios could have been right. Virgil was not home, when they arrived. As usual, Benedicta served the girls an afternoon snack, but they didn't really feel like eating, they were too busy looking outside the living room's window to eat. Even Mr. Mortimer, the sphinx cat, was looking outside along with them. "Girls, just come eat something and stop worrying" Benedicta said, while sitting next to them by the window. Then, night came and still no sign of Virgil. They gave up on the window, since it was too dark to see anything. The girls were sitting in front of the black marble fireplace, above it there was a portrait of the whole family. Virgil was standing behind them and Genevieve was sitting and holding three year old Benedicta on her lap; a six-year-old Macaria was sitting on the floor holding a furless kitten named Mortimer, who was gifted to the family by grandmother Rosaura Sacramor, who was also in the portrait, sitting down next to her daughter Genevieve. The parents did not change much. Genevieve was beautiful as ever and Virgil had a few more grey hairs and his moustache was even more extravagant, but his aquiline nose, strong jaw and daring style did not change. His usual suits involved pointy shoulders and were made of either velvet or satin with lace shirts with ample sleeves. However, a lot has changed for the sisters since then and they were now entering their teens. Now, all the figures in the painting were looking at everything that happened in that living room, which was the background for said painting. There was a chandelier with hanging black crystals, green velvet couches and curtains and a dining table made of dark wood. There were also bookshelves, which were filled with either old books or strange antiquities the couple found along the years. The girls were hungry, so they were eating what they did not eat in the afternoon, however their mother was too busy passing around. "Mom, please stop. You're driving me crazy" said Macaria, stuffing her face with pudding. "It's been too long already. I'm going to call the police" she said resolutely, and her daughters agreed. "It's already past dinner time. He should be home by now" Macaria said and Benedicta nodded vividly. Genevieve dialed the number on her black candlestick telephone. After stating her worries to the police, the call did not last much longer. The police said they couldn't do anything yet, because Virgil did not disappear that long ago. Since they had their hands tied, Genevieve warmed up the leftover food from the previous day for dinner. "What if father fell somewhere or is stuck and can't get up?" asked Benedicta, worried. "I suppose we could do a quick search around town just in case" said Genevieve to appease her younger daughter. They didn't even do the dishes. They got inside the green car once again in search of Virgil, in hopes of finding him or at least a clue. "Wow, our house looks even creepier at night" commented Macaria. Not only their house, but the whole town looked sinister, especially considering the possibility that it was holding someone hostage in their tight dark alleys. An hour later, they came back home after going to every place he could have passed by. Once again, they expected him to have returned home, but that did not happen. They sat on the couch trying to think of other places where Virgil could have gone. He couldn't have gone too far, since all of his belongings were there and Genevieve doubted he left with a lot of money in his wallet. Their eyes were getting tired and so Genevieve ordered them to go to bed, but they refused and in the end all of them fell asleep in the living room waiting for a miracle. A sort of miracle did happen, but not the one they wanted. They woke up quite late and it was only because Mr. Mortimer was meowing frantically around them and even scratched Macaria. "Ouch! Stupid cat!" screamed Macaria at Mr. Mortimer and only afterwards she realized where she was. "Why are we sleeping here?" Their heads were really dizzy and they found themselves questioning strange things. "I don't know... What day is today?" asked Benedicta and they all looked at each other without knowing the answer. "Look at the hours! Shouldn't we be at school?" Genevieve went to the kitchen to check the calendar, but was terribly confused, since she was unsure of what were both the day and the weekday. "What day was yesterday?" They went outside to get the local newspaper that was delivered at every doorstep. They looked at the date and that was when they realized it was Friday, which made them nervous, since they should be at school and instead they completely overslept without even knowing how they let themselves go. Genevieve cooked for them scrambled eggs with toast and after that she drove them to school. They were so busy, they didn't even notice voids around the house, but mainly in their minds. It was only at school when they realized that they not only skipped morning, but also an entire day, which they found quite alarming. At home, Genevieve noticed a big empty space in her closet and asked herself why she never filled up that space, when her clothes were in not so tidy piles, but she did not worry too much about it. Mr. Mortimer kept meowing, which Genevieve found peculiar, since he was usually very quiet. It was only after she picked her girls from school, when they noticed something was seriously wrong. "Hum... Mom? Why is there a black spot on our portrait? Who is that man?" Benedicta pointed at their family portrait that was hanging above the black fireplace. The three of them stared at it for a while, unsure of what to think. In the picture, there were Genevieve and her mother, as well as the young sisters with a kitten; then there was the body of a man, but his face was blanked out and they had no idea who it was. "It looks like it has been burnt off, though" noticed Macaria. "Something happened to the painting." Genevieve thought she could find the identity of that man in a small copy of that picture that she had in her locket that was always around her neck, but in that picture that face was also blanked out and so it was in other pictures around the house. "Could it have been our father?" asked Macaria. "Everyone has a father. Who is our father?" said Benedicta and Genevieve did not reply. "Oh dear, what a headache" Genevieve complained, while trying to remember anything she could about that unknown man. Benedicta helped her mother sit down on the green velvet couch, while Macaria walked back and forth. "This is ridiculous. First, we wake up after two days and then this? And why is our garden so ugly?!" Macaria said, upset, while looking outside the window. "I thought you liked flowers, mom." "What?" Genevieve got up and went straight to the window and was quite baffled to see that her garden was just dirt. "Girls, stay here. I'm going outside and ask the neighbors if they know anything." The neighbors were not of much help. They did not seem to know a lot about her family in general, but they did tell her that her garden was always just dirt and dry trees and some grass for as long as they could remember. There was no warmth in their speech and some of her neighbors even glared at her, which was not new for her. Genevieve's family never engaged in any neighborhood gathering and brought shame to it, because of her dark house and untidy garden, which contrasted too much in that neighborhood full of nice whitish houses and lush green gardens. She felt awkward asking too many questions to them and so ended up not asking about her daughter's father, who she did not remember at all. She guessed he was long gone and that was why none of them could remember him. Still, it seemed impossible. She didn't even understand why she had such a flashy green car to begin with; it was obviously not her purchase nor to her taste. Then, she remembered someone who could have all the answers and so she returned home. She dialed a number on her vintage black phone and waited. "If grandma is visiting, can't we clean the house of all these spiders?" asked Macaria. "Hum... I guess. I can't think of a reason not to" replied Genevieve, looking a bit shocked at the state of the house. "Great!" exclaimed Macaria, and took out the duster to clean all those old webs. "Actually, don't. I have a feeling we should keep them. Maybe they are a clue" said Genevieve, pensive. "Oh, come on, mom!" complained Macaria. .................................................................... On Sunday morning, Genevieve and her two daughters went to mass in the Abbey of Sta. Perpetua, a beautiful gothic building in the middle of town. It was large and all made of stone and it had a majestic and colorful rose window on the front. It went through many enhancements during the centuries, including the construction of a convent five hundred years ago, but it was said that the original building was much older. Around the cathedral there were blue flowers called myosotis, which were the symbol of their patron saint. It was a beautiful sunny day, both Genevieve and her mother, Rosaura Sacramor, had their parasol open. Genevieve had a black lace one and Rosaura had a beautiful one embellished with pearls and coral light-pink roses. "The sun is quite hot today. How unpleasant" complained Lady Rosaura. "It will be a tragedy for my already aged skin." "Mother, please, do not mention it. Your skin looks as young as ever" complimented Genevieve. "Isn't it, girls?" Macaria and Benedicta just nodded out of politeness, since their grandmother had pretty deep wrinkles, which was normal for her age. "Quit your adulation. Why did you call me here? You know how much I hate how crowded and unrefined this town has become", Rosaura said, looking at the distasteful clothing of other people around. "Although I did miss coming to the abbey, even though the new priest has a clear lack of charisma." "I called you here over something really peculiar that happened to us, but let's go home first. I'm afraid the sun has awakened a dragon in you." "What is that supposed to mean? Is that how you speak to your mother?!" Rosaura reprehended. Upon arriving home, Rosaura meticulously looked around the house and her face revealed pure disgust. "Not only have you disregarded your garden, but your house too. How tragic" said Rosaura, swiping her finger on top of the marble fireplace. It was a bit dusty so it stained her white glove. "That is what I'm always saying to her" agreed Macaria. "As you should. Unfortunately, she refuses to listen to sense" said Rosaura. "Anyway, mother, please sit down. I did not call you here to discuss cleanliness" said Genevieve, sitting on the green velvet couch. "Clearly" said Rosaura, with a dissatisfied tone. She sat on the couch across from the one where Genevieve sat and Mr. Mortimer jumped on top of her to smell the aged guest. "Do you know anything about my daughters' father?" asked Genevieve, and Rosaura was taken aback by the question. "Now that I think about it, I can't recall anything..." Rosaura said in visible confusion, and Genevieve and her daughters looked at each other hopelessly. "Why don't I remember anything? Did I ever meet the fool? How odd, I would never let you be with some fellow out of wedlock." "That is right! We were for sure married. And you did meet him. Look at the picture" Genevieve pointed at the family portrait on top of the fireplace and Rosaura stared at it baffled. "Why is his face burnt?" Rosaura asked. "We don't know. We can't remember anything about him for a few days now. Do you know anything?" "Well, let's see... You are still a nurse, so you must know something. Are we all suffering from some sort of amnesia?" asked Rosaura, while Benedicta served her a cup of tea. "I thought about it, but it would be quite unlikely for all three of us, our neighbors and even you to get it. Then, I thought of lethium, which is a powerful drug that makes people forget things, but again the same logic applies. How could all of us take such a drug? I even talked to the school's psychologist. She said sometimes upon heavy trauma, the brain completely blocks some memories from our minds, which does not explain the erased pictures and the same happening to all of us", Genevieve explained. "Well, you have to contact the police. This is not normal" advised Rosaura. "And what do I say? That a man who I don't remember at all disappeared? I can't describe him at all. They will think I'm insane" argued Genevieve. "Are we insane?" asked Benedicta. "Of course not. How can all of us be insane? If anyone is insane here is that man" said Rosaura. "We may not have any memories, but he lived in this house, so the house must hold some clues about him." "Exactly! We searched the whole house and did not find anything special, but there are strange things like these couches and the car. They aren't mother's taste at all. He must also be the reason why the garden is a visual tragedy and why there are spiders everywhere" argued Macaria. "It is indeed unbelievable that a daughter of mine would keep her garden and her house in such a loathsome condition. Sadly, I do not see how those things can help us. After all, what do they say about this man? They don't say anything conclusive to us, at least. Maybe it is better to hire a private investigator, perhaps he can figure out something", Rosaura advised.