Page 44 of Nocturne

Grandpa’s farm. The land he fought all his life to be unmarred by the vultures of the city. The ranch he protected with his life. It was a witness to his wedding celebration and also to my parents. The farm where Grandpa and Grandma were buried together. Even after death, they didn’t want to leave each other. He left all his money, business, and power in the city to live on the farm with Grandma until she left us.

“I’m sorry, Ara.”

A broken sound escapes me as I hang up, not caring about the money—or anything else. The monster has taken everything.

Everything.

* * *

Loneliness is a constant companion in this wretched life I’ve stolen from others. It gathers around me like an impenetrable fog, not allowing anyone close to me or me to leave it. The constant battle of trying to get away from the mist, from the demons that hiss and laugh at me, is hard.

It’s draining.

It’s exhausting my soul.

The loneliness stayed at the bay for the past two months.

With Iyra and Ivy always around, I didn’t dread returning to a silent house where paranoia lurked. I didn’t check every corner or double-lock the door, fearing an intruder. I didn’t sit alone, letting nightmarish thoughts consume me, trying to push me into the oblivion I fought so hard to ignore.

And the decision to adopt Cas has helped after Ivy and Iyra went back to their lives.

The thought of bringing my happy bundle into my life gave me joy that felt foreign to experience after all these years. I was coping, slowly coming out of the mist that was filled with paranoia and loneliness, when life decided to kick me to the curb again.

The week of my parent’s death anniversary is hard as it is. Every year, I spend this week in an alcohol-induced haze, chasing away the ghosts of my past and blacking out on my bed. This year, I decided that I wouldn’t do that. That I would cope better.

For Cas.

He deserves someone better, someone who doesn’t turn to alcohol when things get tough. But look how well that turned out.

I take a swig from the half-empty bottle of brandy as I stare into the sea. The waters where I mixed Ma’s and Papa’s ashes. The tumultuous waves remind me of the chaos upturning my life, and like a powerless fool, I can do nothing but witness the consequences of my sins.

The clouds rumble above, the wind picking up as the angry tides clash below the pier of the bench I’m sitting on.

I usually love this weather. The moments before it rains are the only time I feel as if I belong. When the rain showers over my skin, it feels as if it is absolving me of all the sins I’ve committed. Cleaning me of all the marks they left on my skin.

But as the gloom settles in, everything negative and tortuous I’ve tried so hard to keep at bay crashes into me like the angry waves below.

Guilt, anguish, anger, grief, helplessness, hopelessness and the feeling of numbness that I hate.

It’s been a decade, and I still cannot forgive myself for not saving Papa.

If only I’d acted when I first saw Vir in our home. If only I’d voiced my unease about Papa’s new business partner, listened to my gut instead of dismissing it as ridiculous. Maybe then, things would’ve been different.

Papa wasn’t just a businessman; he was powerful. Vir wasn’t yet the chief advisor to the Throne. Papa would’ve raised hell if heknew Vir’s true intentions. He would’ve burned the monster to the ground, turning that day into a city-wide festival.

We could’ve been happy. Ma’s already fragile heart wouldn’t have given out after seeing Papa in the morgue. Grandpa wouldn’t have been found hanging in his farmhouse after trying to uncover the truth.

We should’ve been in the garden, Iyra helping Papa with carpentry, me assisting Ma with gardening, planning their 36th wedding anniversary next month. We could’ve been happy.

The crippling guilt pushes the fog closer, my demons hissing harder inside my head.

You are nothing but a useless fool.

Someone who should’ve died instead of countless others.

You bring nothing but chaos into people’s lives.

Pathetic excuse of a human.

---