TO KILL IS TO SERVE

Chapter 26: The Background Story

Yesterday was supposed to be our weekly art assessment but since Miss Cherrie unintentionally forgot, it was duly moved today, Tuesday. For the whole day, we were painting the sculptures made by the sculpture class in our own ways. The only instruction given to us was to make the sculpture seemed to be alive. Aside from how awkward it feels to f*****g paint a woman’s breasts, I also had difficulty in detailing the eyes. This is not even a sculpture art but a piece of crap with two big breasts.

“Are you going to change your clothes first?” Alora asked as soon as she got out of the comfort room to change shirt for the apron did not do its job on her earlier.

I shook my head in response. “I am good. I did not bathe myself with paint unlike you.” I teased and got elbowed by the guilty artist. We walk past the classroom and I took a glimpse at my masterpiece for one last time and silently groaned. I f*****g made that crap look like her. I thought while furrowing my brows.

“I was actually about to laugh at the sculpture assigned to you earlier.” Alora suddenly spoke while we’re going downstairs. She lifted her head a little to glance at me and went back to watching her steps. “But who knows you will take it seriously? You really made an art this time, especially out of that terrible sculpture you were assigned to.” She added and ran down quickly, chuckling.

I sighed and scratched my nape. “It was unusual of me to use that person as a model but what the f**k is wrong with my hands earlier?” I mumbled to myself and inserted both my hands into my pocket. This is because I have been receiving nonstop calls from her since she returned to the country. She’s bugging me too much. In addition, she looked so much like Danger I and I already saw that guy twice.

“Grei, we have to go now or else the Sun will set before us!” Alora impatiently called from downstairs. Yes, I can’t afford to be f*****g distracted now.

-

It took us thirty minutes of traffic and fifteen minutes of walk before we have finally reached Hanie’s family mausoleum and it’s f*****g big for a mausoleum. Alora told me that she’s only been here once so she was afraid we might get lost but we did not even take a wrong turn, not even once. She knows where, probably not by memory, but whatever—she just f*****g knows where.

“Hey, Han.” Alora greeted in front of a cross made of granite with an endlessly familiar name engraved on it. We silently stood as if we’re waiting for someone to answer. But the truth is that Alora is currently trembling beside me while helping herself to get composed. She’s biting her lower lip as hard as she can to not cry but I still can hear her soft sobs. No one in their right mind would invite someone they barely know to the grave of a person they murdered.

Alora is not a murderer. I paused thinking for a while when I’ve realized my conclusions. I am not thorn about anything in between anymore, this time. It was a conclusion created inside my own head. Alora cannot be a murderer.

“I’ve brought a friend with me. I hope you’re okay with that.” Alora lifted her face and glanced at me. Her eyes are teary but she’s smiling. She turned back to looking at Hanie’s grave at sighed softly.

I felt my heart racing fast but I stayed unmoved. I have no idea what’s gotten into me but the moment she looked at me with those fragile eyes, telling her friend that I’m a friend as well made me feel something I am not familiar with. This is just like that night at the family dinner. It’s like my godforsaken tongue tasted something sweet yet unseen.

She cannot be a f*****g murderer. I cleared my throat and exhaled through my nose. “Hello, Hanie.” I spoke after a few seconds of silence. “I am Alora’s friend and I am an art prodigy.” Alora glared at me and rolled her eyes teasingly when she heard me joked. The atmosphere lightened up a bit but after that small interaction, we were left voiceless again.

However, this silence doesn’t correspond to awkwardness. I am personally just enjoying the time of idleness while waiting for Alora to talk. She can be weak sometimes, but I can certainly say she’s particularly brave today—even with her sobbing silently.

Alora sat down and extended her hand to reach the cross with an engraved name of Hanielyn Park. “I missed you. I’m sorry.” She uttered while gently wiping the dust off on the cross of her deceased friend. I am not sure of why she’s sorry but I can say once again that she is not a f*****g murderer. I should be oozing with bloodlust for Mister Park right now but this moment is just too soft—Alora looks so soft, the orange-painted sky feels so soft, and this big silent place is so soft.

I sat down beside Alora and she looked at me once again. However, she did not shift back her eyes to Hanie anymore. Her tearstained cheeks are slightly reflecting the rays of the setting sun and her puffy eyes are focused on me. It’s like she’s captivating me and drowning me into her. This is not the first time I f*****g felt this—and no. f*****g no.

“We were friend ever since kindergarten.” I was about to send my gazes away but Alora created a portal of conversation—or rather, storytelling. She bit her lower lip and nodded, and then turned back to looking at Hanie before crossing her arms. “Hanie and I… we both don’t have siblings, so we treated each other as one. We dress together, we eat together, we sleep together every single day. We get to choose where we can do everything together— at her house or mine.” She chuckled and a tear escaped her left eye, and she quickly wiped it off. “Hanie, she’s very silent. Although we’ve been friends for years, she never cracked a single joke.” She looked at me and I nodded, letting her know that I am genuinely listening.

I don’t know what’s gotten to me until this moment but I seemed not to care about this f*****g deal anymore. I was utterly excited for this day to come and I am here now—but I feel nothing; not the mischievousness whenever I hear Alora talking about Hanie or the annoyance or pity I developed within me when I see or hear a lady is crying. Am I being out of character now? What the f**k is this?

“She never opened a conversation first.” Alora spoke again. My mind that was distracted for a bit became all excited to hear her telling more about the past—not about Hanie or the murder, but the past and she in the past. “Until fifth grade,”

[The italicized lines are Alora’s POV and storytelling]

Hanie was the best student in our grade level back in Elementary. She would always get perfect marks and top positions every single year. She basically was a genius. And because of her excellence, the teachers would automatically elect her as the class president. I was never near her level, to be honest. We’re like opposite poles but we loved being together, so we attract since opposites attract.

In fifth grade, as expected, Hanie’s became the class president again but surprisingly, our adviser wanted the transferee to be the vice president. And do you know who the transferee was? Yes, Manasseh Tylor. He was a well-known cold-guy-next-door. Cliché. He will never ever look at you unless he needed something from you, based on the rumours. He’s very, very cocky back then or until now, I suppose.

The old picture of Hanie and I gradually changed over time—Manasseh did not enter the picture, instead, he seemed to replace my position. Hanie and I would still bond together but since I was getting left behind because I was not a genius like them, I had to exert more effort into my academics and push any distractions away—that included Hanie. That setup continued until the next school year, our Elementary graduating year.

One day after the result of midterm exams, I was called by the teacher to receive pages and pages of scolding because I failed two subjects. Later on, Manasseh came as per the teacher’s order as well. And it might sound really cliché now but he was requested to tutor me for he’s the class vice president. Hanie couldn’t handle another student anymore for she’s been tutoring three already. And unexpectedly, Manasseh agreed.

“That was cliché indeed.” I butted in and Alora chuckled. “If I were you, nah, I wouldn’t be you for I’m a geniu—”

“Shut up.” She smacked my arm even before I could finish my punch line. “I was just super bad at English and History because I don’t like memorization.” She added while glaring at me.

I scoffed and coughed pretentiously. “Sure, artist.”

“How dare—”

“Please continue your story.”

Alora pouted when I cut her off and raised my defence against her hand that was about to smack my nape again. She sighed and turned to face Hanie’s cross. “Well, we became friends after a month,”

I really thought Manasseh was a cold guy based on rumours but he’s just shy. He told me that he got really excited when the teacher asked him to tutor me because he knew I was Hanie’s friend. He’s been telling Hanie that he wanted to befriend me but those were the times that I was ignoring Hanie as well, so we didn’t become friends a little earlier.

My grades progressively improved and Hanie came to our tutoring lessons as well. We started becoming a group that time—HAM. We probably named our group because that’s trendy for our age.

We stepped into the same high school and even senior high school. We were always together—rainy days, sunny days, stormy days. Our parents did not care that Manasseh’s actually a guy and let him sleepover anytime. Those were the best days of my life and those were the noisiest days of Han’s. Yes, after meeting Manasseh, she’s became very loud and expressive and I was glad to have finally see another side of her.

One night, when we were sleeping over at Han’s to do our grade 9 research project; I went downstairs to find my missing keychain. That keychain was the first gift of Hanie and I cannot afford to lose it. Manasseh came with me and helped me find the thing while Hanie’s preparing our beds.

Everything happened so fast and the next thing I know, Manasseh’s already on top of me. I was only looking under the sofa when he tried to jump over me and things got messy. That was the first time I saw Manasseh’s face looking so flustered and also the first time I felt my heart racing like a mad horse.

That was the feeling I could never forget.

“So you fell in love at him when he fell on top of you? That’s creative.” I butted in again for I cannot f*****g contain the punch line anymore. Alora pierced her deadly glares on me while keeping her lips pursed together. I chuckled and nodded. “You silly artist. You’re still in love with—”

“Do you want me to stop now, huh?” She cut me off, trying to sound so terror. I laughed at her reaction and unbothered expression. She doesn’t seem to have any feelings towards that Manasseh anymore, I suppose. “Anyway, fine, I suddenly had a crush on him at that moment,”

A few weeks had past and Manasseh distanced himself from us out of the blue—or just from me.

We became really awkward to each other every time the three of us were together. I believe Han can see that but she never asked anything.

We graduated high school just like that.

It seemed like Manasseh can stay like this but I can’t. I felt the need to tell Han everything and a one hot summer night of sleepover came. Manasseh was out of the country that time, so it was only Hanie and I—sleeping over together again after a long time. I was dedicated and sure that I would tell me best friend about my feelings towards Manasseh. I can open up a conversation anytime for she wasn’t that loud and excited this time—I thought it’s just Hanie being Hanie. So I can definitely say something first. It was always like that. I had to open up a topic every time.

But no, that time, she spoke firstly. And what she told me hacked my determined system to say anything about my feelings.