RELENTLESS

PROLOGUE

At the age of Thirteen, I died. Not the ordinary death where a person's soul pull out of his body and then he became stiff, lifeless, and limp, but the kind that afflicts our inner Affection and rendered us to be relentless. I died the day I lost my contentment. The day I lost my entire family.

ON THE FIFTH OF MARCH, 2008, Our mother died. She had a sudden heart attack, keeled over, and then, she just died. Living us astonished and traumatized. No one sees that coming, we never predict that she would die so soon not that we can foretell. She just left like that without a final goodbye or an actual warning. But I'm certain about one thing, that she was aware that she will be gone soon.

That's why she acted Strangely a few days ago. Often spaced out from the world, Always lethargic and slept more than necessary, Sluggish and hardly say a word to us, she abandoned us and stayed constantly in her world of thought. Because I and my brother were too young and naive, we never understand that she was in critical condition.

Two days before her death, she came back, living lively and smiled more frequently, a smile we never notice was a sham and a way to hide her pain.

The day before her death, she made us sat on the sofa and began to preach about how cruel life could be, how we had to accept some of it torments, and never give up and so many speeches that we both thought was needless. But now, I realized that they are her very last words to us, her final goodbye.

But I wasn't contented with that kind of a goodbye, she should have announced to us that she was living, it could have been better, we might be prepared for it. But going like this unannounced was cruel. I was mad at her for living like that.

I glowered at her grave, the monster that engulfed her and officially takes her away from us, from her kids, the only precious things she owned. I know Mother would have never chosen to leave us soon, but death is just heartless, ferocious, and designated only to take away our beloved ones from us, without considering how we felt and what we might end up turning into. But yet, we still have to accept it for it is inevitably and destined.

I sniffed and brushed away the stream of tears rolling on my cheeks, I clinched on tightly to my younger brother, Jasper. His face was plain, free of emotion but a little bit confused, certainly unaware of what was happening, he was just five, dense and unsophisticated. He couldn't make out what was happening and had to ask me silly questions several times. Like

"Why are we in the graveyard?"

" Is mum home cooking lunch?"

" Are you sick?" he asked when he noticed me crying. I nodded my head, I had to lie to him, he's too young to be worth of an explanation, even if I try to explain to him, I'm sure he will apprehend nothing.

After an hour of mourning and silence, with only the constant sounds of sniff and chucks and loud sobs from those family-friends that cared, we were commenced to leave. I placed the lily flower offered to me by Mrs. Tom, our neighbor on her grave, and cowered there for a split second.

Starred at her tomb and read what was engraved on it.

Miss Sara Parker

Born: 24th October 1978

Died: 5th March 2008

Mother of two.

RIP

At that precise point of time, I yearned to stay there by her side, stay close to her so that she would never experience solitude and isolation, so that my presence will always give her hope that being six feet underneath the ground shouldn't make here depressed and lonely. So that my love will reach her where ever she is.

But that was just a thought, a wish to make which for sure is prone to not being fulfilled. I had to leave and now is the right time if I stay longer I might end up stuck her forever.

I stood up and joined my brother, who was now fiddling with the collar of his black coat. We treaded silently out of the graveyard, by any step, I felt our Mother fading away.

I tried to distract myself by looking at the boring sky that was gloomy and fell with sadness in sync with the current situation we are in. Only that it wasn't mourning for a certain thing as we. The sky was grayish and lack any cheerful color. Just like that, I began to assume myself like the sky, dejected, heartbroken, and colorless. Our mother had always been the color that shone around our world.

We trailed into the little town, 400 meters away from the graveyard, the church, and the orphan's asylum.

And then, the pity eyes were thrown upon us, everyone staring at us and obviously showing their conscience to us, sympathizing with us for the new crestfallen bestowed to us. They all are aware of the new life we just stepped into, a life of misery, a life of being unparented, no guardian, or any mentor. Orphanhood. And our new home is metered behind us.

Our mother was the only person we had in this world, no close relative and definitely no father. Our father must be still alive somewhere and I hoped he might spontaneously come and take us with him, in that case, we will not be given away to some filthy asylum. But considering that he ditched us five years ago, my hope is surely worthless.

******

The feeling you experienced when your heart shred, like your rip, is about to combust, your brain spinning with rave. No matter how hard you try to stop it, for ones at least but you couldn't, you just want to sink amidst your sorrow and let them devoured you to their self-content. To hid among them and let them conciliate you with more of them. That's what I felt over the first weeks of our stay in the orphanage.

Despite that, there are lots of kids sharing the same unfaithful life as us. But I can't refrain myself from loathing this life, I just can't get myself to accept it. I want more, something with a glimpse of prosperity and love. Not this dry pathetic life.

I sat on the shade of a large, untamed oak tree, the only existing tree in the large field. Children running and bobbling around the field, the weather wasn't that buoyance but they are still enjoying the chilly evening, playing wholeheartedly and the one thing I envy about them is how they are capable of discarding their pains. I wanted to be one of them but I suck at that. I'm the type that holds on to grieve way to tightly.

Jasper was even courageous than I am. I noticed him amongst the kids playing soccer. He was laughing cheerfully as if nothing bothered him in life. He acknowledges Mother's absent days ago, sulked for three to four days, and just like that he was over it and now moved on, accepting that mother will never return.

I was ashamed of myself for being such a coward.

" Pixie! Pixie!!" he called running towards me.

I grinned as he approached. Leastwise, I'm happy that he's happy.

He stooped next to me his shoulder brushing my hands.

"Seems like you're surely enjoying yourself," I said to him.

He smiled and nodded.

"But you don't seem to, you're sad," he said to me. One thing about Jasper, he's so observant and could possibly read my mind. He can tell that I'm not happy right now.

" I'm just okay, you better go back to your game, the boys are waving at you," I said, trying to distract him and find a way to send him back there, he probably shouldn't be hanging out with me because I'm afraid my depression could be contagious and he might end up contacting it.

"Okay, But I'm worried that everyone doesn't like you. Raphael said you're weird and you don't talk to anyone"

I fake a chuckle, trying to convert what he said into a joke.

" Wow, can't believe everyone here notices me. And who's that Raphael?"

He pointed at a guy with sandy hair holding the ball, jumping up and down like he was attached to a spring. He turned to our direction and beckoned at Jasper to come back.

"I better get back there," he said, patting my shoulder before he sprinted back to the guys. Jasper seemed to blend in quite easily.

*****

On the 30th of March was my birthday. Instead of celebrating as customary. I lead on my bed, with eyes wide open staring blankly at the ceiling. Retaining myself from reminiscing any part of my past birthdays. The room was empty as all the girls in my room had gone and I was left all alone.

In the Orphanage, there are only 33 of us, 18 girls and 15 boys. We are not that much which is apparently a good thing. It indicates that only a few of us are suffering this kind of life. Despite our belittle number that doesn't prevent the orphanage from lacking so much of facilities. Like all the 18 of us have to manage in one room, living us with no space and proper ventilation. The boy's case is likewise too.

Noisy footsteps brought me back to the room and I gazed toward the door.

Jasper was standing with a glimmer of the ear to ear grin on his face, the excitement seemed to be dripping out of him. He trotted inside the room and jump carelessly on my rickety bed.

Kikkkkkt

The bed made a loud moan that made both jasper and me chuckle.

"Your bed is way worse than the one in our room. It doesn't make this weird sound" he said in between laughter.

"Better than having none" I replied

"So what's the occasion little brownie"

We had this weird nickname thing going on between us, we are both obsessed with folklores and named each other after some elf.

He called me pixie and I called him a brownie.

"Happy birthday!!!" he yelled hugging me unexpectedly.

I disheveled his hair with my hand and huge him tightly.

"Oh you're crushing me" he winced and I pulled away. Sometimes I used to forget I'm almost to times bigger than him and that doesn't make a change that he is my only best friend.

"Sorry," I said messing his short dark brown hair. I cut his hair a week ago but it has already sprouted like fire. He had his weird kind of fast hair growth, and his hair is soft, silky, and constantly smooth. His hair never gets disheveled despite how many times I mess it up. Unlike his, mine was black and naturally curled, always messy, I don't know why heredity like tempering our looks. I'm more like our Father and he's more of our mother, the only thing we had in common is our emerald eyes and bronze skin. Even the shape of our face is different and so is our personality.

"I get you a gift" He chimed fumbling into the pocket of his trouser to get it.

He brought out to cute yarn bracelet, blue and orange. He handed the orange one to me.

I stared at the bracelet on my palm and my eyes couldn't control the water in them. This gift reminded me of home, Our mother always made this for us on our birthday and this one was one of them. The one she gave us on Jasper's birthday. I didn't even know he had them because I lost mine the next day.

I pulled him into another hug, firmer than the first one. My eyes began to drool. Sometimes I hate being a cry baby.

I released him minutes later and began to clumsily wipe away my tears, chuckling.

"You like it, it was the one from my last birthday I found yours on the sofa and I have been keeping it since then" he explained

"Of course, that's the best gift ever" I assured grinning and chuckling at the same time. I put the bracelet on my wrist. It was a little big and old, dangles around my wrist. But I will surely keep it and cherish it.

We stayed in the room and chatted for a while, Jasper rants and rants on how he missed eating chocolate pie. He is addicted to chocolate and being here in the orphanage, things are different. We only eat what they serve us which mostly consist of rolled bread and lots of varieties of pudding, the food here tastes the same as a stale.

He left hours later when the girls return when the sun fell and I indulged in my world again.

*****

I gazed at the graveyard with my hands clasped against the railing from our room balcony. This day marked the monthiversary of our mother's death. I chose to pay my respect from up here, not that I will even be allowed to get an inch closer to her grave. The graveyard is proximate to our resident but it's always off-limit to us, no bairn should ever trespass. Not that we will ever do that.

From atop, I could see the perfect view of the graveyard, it vibes is clearly shown from the scenery. Dry, foggy, and free from any manifestation of feeling. Dead. With dry boring trees engulfed that are as soulless as the bodies beneath the dank soil. The rain might fall for the entire season but the trees around there never react to it. And that atmosphere made death depressed and desolate.

At times, the weather out there is always that unpredictable, the sun will rise and shine fully for almost a week and then it will disappear and a feeble little glow will take over, clouded with most.

Today the weather happens to be dull and the cloud frustrated, ready to explode and shatter taking the form of the water droplet. I guess it's about to rain.

My eyes averted from the sky when I saw two figures running the direction of the graveyard. I stiffened, it could only mean I'm hallucinating because what my eyes saw was my brother and the tall, lean, sandy-haired guy he always hangs around with.

What's his name again?

Raphael.

And I'm going out of my mind.

I squinted to get a better view, and with no objection, it was them.

My heart jumped to the floor. What are they thinking? I wouldn't allow that stupid boy to risk my brother's life for his stupidity. For all I know, my brother will never set his foot into the graveyard without being pursued. And then, I realized I have to do something before they get caught before anyone sees them.

Shouting at them to return will meant the girls knowing and then before the time blinks, they'll be exposed. I had to run after them.

When I was seven, my mum once told me about some monstrous creatures called " ghoul" the souls of dead humans that are not capable of resting in peace due to certain reasons that made them hold grudge against living humans. Instead, they resolute back to life and takes the human soul. We call them the soul eaters or the evil story. But this is ironic because we all know it's a myth and we shouldn't have to believe it.

But still, many children hold on to this story on their minds and never ever approach the graveyard without supervision. Even I don't believe in the story but right now, I have this hunch that it is all real. And I know I was paranoid.

I ran from the balcony, passed our room, ignoring the questionable stared from the girls, descended the two floors, and finally get to the ground floor.

Without wasting any vital time, I sprinted toward the graveyard. Since there wasn't any barrier that separates the orphanage from the graveyard, it easy to pass through.

My heart throbbed by each step I made, I thought of gazillion ways of how the ghouls will emerge and attack my little brother, how they will grope them remorselessly and suck out their soul and fling away their limped body after being satisfied with what they possessed of their lives. I pictured my brother lying breathless on the ground. I shoved away from the pessimistic thought out of my brain and adhered to chanting my mantra that everything will be fine.

I reached the graveyard in light speed and the sky was already transforming, the gust of wind deteriorated into a silent gyrate. The atmosphere altered drastically and in a very grievous way. But a didn't care about that. Besides, I prohibited myself from noticing it and continued to embark on dipper into the storm.

I caught the gleams of Jasper amidst the clamor, standing strikingly odd, staring at the space his mind insensible of the surrounding he was or what was happening, more strangely, Raphael was nowhere to be seen.

I screamed his name trying to get closer to him but the wind kept dragging me back. Despite him ignoring my calls and still standing on the same spot. I didn't budge, I had to reach to him because he was my priority, and letting him get killed by the devious wind will be the last thing I will wish to do in my life.

After several times of buffeting through the devious storm, I reached to him and grabbed his hand, and sprint toward the way out.

But before I could proceed any further, the rain began to fall drastically, like it was designated to occur right now. Sure it was though.

" wait, just wait" I heard the voice that doesn't belong to my brother yelling at me. And I Ignored it still pacing toward our resident.

But little did I know I wasn't holding on to my brother but to something flagitious. And my brother and Raphael were never in the graveyard. And everything was an illusion.

And the reality hits me when my eyes caught the darkness filling up the surrounding, gust of wind overwhelmed into a violent storm. I shield my face from the dangerous storm with my hand and hold on tightly to Jasper. His arm felt hard, still and braky. I turned around and realized all this time I was holding a tree-branch.

I was completely stuck in surreal chaos. I was paranoid and hallucinating.

But the situation felt so real, I felt the sensation of the wind striking my skin. The tweaks from trees pricking me as they flew away to the sky and also the sound of a voice yelling my name.

Pixie!

Eunice.

That's my name. My real name and I know who was calling me. It was my brother. I removed my hands from my face and peer at him from the distance, afar from me Wiggling and crying, trying to free himself from Raphael chaining him tight in his arms. He yearned to save me. But I wouldn't want him to. I would never want him to.

I watched as the nuns appeared, taking him away with only one glance at the graveyard, and just like that, They left without looking back.

My mind told me that was my end. Perhaps the myth was never a lie, it was never a myth. It was true. True that the Ghost eaters exist and now they are here for me. I was living.

And I yearned for one thing, to hold my brother again and tell him it's okay, he could survive alone. He could live without me. He's the bravest person I ever knew and he should still adhere to that. But I couldn't. I just memorized them in my brain, clinching the words right to my tongue and remembering them as my final word to him.

The pain intensified, both internal and external. My heart shredded and my soul and heartbeat petrified and darkness engulfed me. I combust into ablaze.

ON 5THOF APRIL, I DIED ONLY TO BE REBORN AGAIN IN A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE. PERHAPS I WAS NEVER DEAD.