Chapter Five #2
Mara didn’t seem to notice the tension at the table, but Apollo shifted in his seat. I ignored his discomfort. I only wanted to eat and return to the privacy of my room, where I wouldn’t have to deal with Sitri’s questions.
“It doesn’t matter what I did.” My muscles tensed as I fought the furrowing of my brow and an aching agony threatened me with tears. “Even if I do know, it’s my business, not yours. Pick a different topic; I’m not interested in this lame excuse for small talk.”
Still holding his fork, Sitri shrugged. There was that crooked smile again, crossing his lips and baring his sharp, white teeth. I was quickly coming to hate him, and I hated his grin most of all.
“It’s nothing personal; I’m just trying to figure out what I’ve gotten myself into. We’re all down here for a reason. I only trust those who wear their sins on their sleeves, and you, my darling, have skeletons in your closet.”
“Drop it,” I demanded, my anger drowning out my resolve. “I told you what you need to know. If you want to share secrets, start with your own.”
Sitri had the nerve to laugh.
“Awfully bold for a human, aren’t you? If it’s games you fancy, I’ll play—just this once.” The Prince leaned forward across the table, abandoning his relaxed posture. “Fragile toys break, and you’re no exception, darling. Try to threaten me, and it will be the last mistake you ever make.”
I took a deep breath and collected my plate, still loaded with food. I stood. Apollo flinched as I kicked my chair into place and sent it clattering against the table.
“Thank you for the meal, Sitri. If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”
With my breakfast in hand, I turned and left the dining hall.
“Sitri…” Apollo’s voice echoed from the doorway.
I hesitated just beyond its threshold.
“I know,” Sitri snapped back, “but this will take time. Give her space. Let her grieve.”
“You don’t have time. She reeks,” Mara growled. “Her secrets are going to fester, and when they do, you’ll regret your leniency with her. Mark my words.”
All went silent except for the clanking of cutlery. Once I was certain they had nothing left to say, I crept away from the hallway, more confused and angry than I’d been before.
I retraced the steps to my bedroom, only getting lost once along the way.
I eased myself back into the darkness and locked the door behind me.
My food had gone cold, but that didn’t stop me from wolfing it down in privacy.
The desk was the best place to put the now-empty plate.
It clattered unevenly on the table. When I reached beneath it, my hand met something small, made of metal.
It was a box that rattled when I shook it.
The rough patch on its side suggested it contained matches.
I left it where it lay, not caring to light a lamp, and I returned to the bed.
I tucked my knees up to my chest and held them tight. All the thoughts and memories I had forced out of my mind came flooding back to me. I was dead; not dreaming, not tripping, not off in a transient daydream I could leave at any time.
I was permanently, irrevocably dead.
Was Levi the one who’d found my body? I hadn’t recognized him when I literally ran into him, but now that it was too late, I remembered him just fine.
He was the sweet boy who had helped me through my first grueling semester, back when I thought I had to try.
Before I understood how easily my studies came.
He didn’t deserve to have that on his conscience.
I hadn’t reached out to him or given him a chance to stick around.
As soon as I realized he wasn’t necessary, I’d shut him out.
He didn’t numb Vapula’s influence, and studying was a waste of time, so I’d left him behind.
How dumb was he to think he could help me that night, after I had sabotaged him every step of the way?
If fate were kind, he wouldn’t have to live with the guilt of that failure until the day he died. But fate wasn’t kind. He’d blame himself.
And what about my parents? How would they take the news? They hadn’t really been there for me in life. Anything I did, I did alone, hoping to please them. It had never been enough.
My dad always found a reason to be disappointed.
It was his legacy I’d been held to, that of the mechatronic engineer who could build every part of a system given sufficient time—and money—to work his magic.
Three years of schooling later, I still failed to meet his expectations.
Nothing I did made him proud, only ever ‘satisfied’ or ‘appeased.’ I’d grown so tired of it that I’d avoided him altogether.
Then there was my mother, the software engineering prodigy. Whoever it was that hired her kept her busy. She was an absentee in my life, represented only by framed awards and pictures of family outings long forgotten on the walls of my childhood home.
We hadn’t spoken a word to one another in the three months leading up to my demise.
The last time I’d tried, it was so impersonal we hadn’t talked for more than a few minutes.
She hadn’t called me back, and I didn’t reach out.
I regretted not making an effort for her, too, now that I’d never hear her voice again.
How much of this was my fault? How much of my story could I rewrite if only I had the chance?
I knew the answer, and it cut deep. I needed a drink.
Or five. Or maybe even ten. I was already dead, so what did I have to lose?
Of course, no alcohol was available, and I wasn’t about to ask Sitri for a favor.
If the demons made a habit of drinking oil, there may not be any alcohol in Hell to begin with.
My whole body shook with sobs as my regrets washed over me.
I had done everything wrong. I must have left a trail of devastation in my wake, and worst of all, I’d never get to learn how deep it ran.
My tears flowed freely. They fell and cast dark circles on the luxurious down pillows as I buried my face in them and cried until I had no more tears to shed.