sssc213

[sssc213]

Ann

Ann hasn’t slept for months. Insomnia, her landlady calls it. The ride to the rural countryside did not help her condition as the metallic clacks of the locomotive only rumbled louder when her eyes closed. Despite sparing no expense on her travels for a comfortable trip,  her lack of sleep proved it to be insufficient. Upon arrival, the hot and humid summer afternoon added to her discomfort. She grazed her fingertips on her collar, tugging at the fastened glass buttons against her neck.

“Ann? Are you going to be fine? We can always pay a little extra for assistance.” Her mother cried in a hush voice from behind. 

“I’ll manage, it’s not a big deal.”  Ann stared down at her grandmother’s lifeless corpse. She continued to apply fine power and rouge on the elder’s face. The back of her hands swept across her grandmother’s cheeks. Contrasting to the soft appearance of the elder’s winkles, Ann’s hands met a sharp and rugged surface. Cold and icy. Bits of ice particles naked to the eye sank into her nerves like electric shocks. Her mother's stifled sobs grew louder, choking on words. 

“M-mother, mom, you should’ve listened,” Her mother continued. “If only you hadn’t insisted on traveling so far with your poor health, you wouldn’t have ended up here like this.” Ann’s mother collapsed, kneeing below the metal mortuary stretcher. 

Pathetic. 

Ann stared at the black hole at her grandmother’s neck, a forced incision. A crude incision that served no practical purposes, but only to drain her family’s wallet. This was all due to the work of some nitwit doctor that misdiagnosed a simple sore throat as a tumor. That nitwit then proceeded to gauge out her grandmother’s neck with an iron knife as a cure. 

The hole in the corpse's neck snapped Ann back to her surroundings. Enclosed around them were mortuary cabinets stacked to the ceiling, each holding a different corpse secured by thin hinges. 

Please, we beg of you, let us out…it's dark and cold in here.

The smell of the ghostly breaths gets closer, a raw odor assaulting her senses.

“Get lost, get, lost, get lost, get lost.” She muttered under her breath at the voices. “Quick, prepare a coffin, pine is enough.” Ann exclaims to her mother. There was no need for fine mahogany; it would be a waste to splurge on a dead person. 

Shortly, Ann headed up a winded dirt path to a church closeby as her mother wished to pray for blessing from the priest before heading back to the city. Her mother donated a large sum, prayed with her hands clasped closely to her heart and bowed at the altar. Ann only watched her mother’s actions from the bench a few rows back. She watched as her mother’s shoulders drooped and shook under kaleidoscopic streaks of sunlight peering through the stained glass. Ann turned her head towards the painted ceiling, eyes squinting at gold flakes that reflected the blinding summer warmth. Beyond the gold, she couldn’t see. It was difficult to make out the painted figures on the ceiling; they blurred together, blending into a swirl of gold and faded colors. 

Angles? Or perhaps prophets of the Bible? 

Ann didn’t know and Ann never found out. 

[sssc213]

This Story

This is the story of 3 people who were once strangers that are interconnected by fate. Their story is told through three different perspectives, each muddled by bias.

Read in the following order:

Ann

Ed

Hans

Afterword

[sssc213]

Ed

Die, it's time to die Ed.

When you enter the depths of hell, I will make sure to rip your throat out.

Edward woke up drenched in cold sweat. He swept his nightstand, rummaging through the surface for the right pills. 

“Come on, come on, where is it!”  He stumbled into the kitchen of his apartment to continue scavenging. Upon finding the right container, he hurriedly opened it and forced multiple pills down his dry throat. Coughing loudly and pounding his chest to push them down his stomach. Then, reaching out and chugging the dirty cups of days old water. 

“This, I can’t do this anymore.” Edward tugged his matted hair and sank onto the cold marbled floor. 

He never wanted to be a doctor.  This incompetent lowlife never even passed a single medical examination without the interference of his parents. Constantly resorted to hiding behind a mask due to his constant paranoia of prosecution. Now, overwhelmed by guilt and despair of the countless deaths that his malpractices have caused. He needed an escape; Edward wanted to leave this life behind and start anew.

I need to go somewhere far. That's right, somewhere far away, some faraway place that will accept me, Yes they will accept me. They must accept me.

Under the moonlight, he found solace as he gazed out the opened window. The cool night breeze ran through his hair, offering him brief comfort from the weight of his existence. White translucent curtains danced in the night air wrapping him in an embrace.

It will be fine, I will be fine. When I start anew, all will be fine. 

And so, Edward left his life behind, leaving only an envelope with enough money to pay for his rent for the next few months. Before the sunrise, he escaped from his lavish apartment and rushed downstairs for his fastest escape to his new life. In front of his apartment lobby parked a black taxicab. That black taxicab marked the start of Edward’s journey to his new home. And, no one has ever seen Edward since. 

“Are you Father Joseph?” A voice called from behind. Joseph, formerly known as Edward, was now a priest working for a church in the countryside. On his journey to salvation, he found a church that offered him sanctuary. 

“Hello ma’am, how may I help you?” Joseph welcomed the middle aged women.

“My mother passed away not long ago nearby, My daughter and I have offerings for the church to pray that she can rest peacefully in heaven.” The woman said. Joseph shared his condolences and led a prayer for her mother’s soul. Upon the completion of his prayer, the women let out tears of joy and thanked Joseph with deep gratitude. 

Joseph sat behind the screen of the confessional awaiting for a penitent. A wooden door slides open, and light footsteps enter the compartment. Through a crack at the bottom of the screen, a dark green silk dress rested on the leather seat. A green with a rich hue of mysterious allure, embedded with crystal buttons. A young lady sat in silence, hesitant to start her confession. 

“Take your time child,” Joseph waited patiently.  

The lady never spoke, she sat in the booth in anxious silence. Joseph never heard her confession nor saw that same shade of green again.  

[sssc213]

Hans

“How many times must I remind you? Take the trash on your way out!” She shouted at Hans from the dining table. Hans exhaled in defeat and reached for the plastic bag below the rusty kitchen sink. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Droplets of cold liquid splattered into his eyes as he squatted below the sink. A small bucket below the pipes overflowed with water; dripping onto the tiles when new droplets sent ripples onto the surface. 

“Did you forget to call the plumber again? You know I can't fix the house and take care of the baby at the same time, when can you ever do something right?”

“Mm,” Hans hummed, focused on tying the trash bag in a tight knot.

With the trash, he flung his coat over his shoulders swiftly and left the apartment without looking back at his wife. His wife always has something new to complain about before he leaves for work. After countless heated arguments, Hans learned that remaining silent was his best course of action.

Across the street stood a polished building overlooking his own. He stood under its overbearing shadow characterized by its smooth and refined silhouette. Dressed in lush greenery and adorned with purposeless tall windows; a narcissistic piece of architecture. Separating the two parallel buildings is a smoothly pathed road and a shiny black taxicab. A taxicab always parked on the side closest to the taller building. 

A soft knock on the taxicab window came from outside beside Hans. He quickly opened the door and to help the other place two travel trunks into the back of the vechicle. Soft peony and light notes of cigarettes wafted through the air. Hans adjusted the mirror. In the corner of the mirror, a young lady slid onto the leather seat diagonally from the wheel. Hans never forgot their first meeting, the first month of winter under the dense morning haze he found a shimmer of forbidden light. Like a clear path that attracted lost idlers in the fog, he had no choice but to be intrigued by it. They both were intrigued by it, intrigued by softly spoken affirmations and the rush of adrenaline of shared secrets. Hans was lost in the illusion of perfection the other had, blinded by the hope of escaping his improvised life. Even if it was merely flickers of broken light through a crack made by a needle, he had no choice but to grasp upon it like a blind man in the abyss.

“Good morning, Miss. Where to today?” Hans greeted. 

“Leipzig train station,” she responded.

They fell into silence. 

“How was your trip from the countryside?” He started, running gloved hands along the steering wheel for a left turn. 

“Fine.”

“Mhm, a fun vacation?”

“Yes, a very exciting vacation.” 

Silence again. 

“Ann, did I do something wrong?” Hans looked up into the mirror. Supported by her palms, Ann’s face is turned towards the window. In an disinterested gaze, she watches the town outside. 

“No, what makes you think that?” She doesn’t look at him. 

Hans didn’t know what to say. Perhaps he stayed silent at home too much, now truly lost his ability to speak. 

“I…” He tried to answer, but he couldn’t. Something was off with Ann today. Too brief, too quiet. No one spoke for the entire ride, the soft hum of the engine filled the void. At the sight of the train station on the horizon, Ann finally spoke.

“Today is my last day here,” their eyes met through the mirror. 

Thump, Thump, Thump

“What do you mean?” Hans’ jaw tensed up, the wheel in his hands felt heavy. 

“I’m getting on the next train for Florence.”

What was Hans supposed to say? What did she want him to say? Would she listen if he begged? But even if he did beg, what’s next?  Divorce his wife and abandon his son? No, Hans never intended for his feelings to blossom into what it has become. He looked back up into the mirror from the steering wheel. Ann was long gone. The jewel that crystallized his frostbitten world had slipped from his fingertips. 

[sssc213]

Afterword

The prompt “the last time I saw” is integrated into each of the characters through their personal challenges. Ann struggles with seeing value in others. Her character is revealed through her actions before her dead grandmother. Due to her materialistic nature, she is unable to pay proper respect to her grandmother even when seeing her one last time. Edward left his identity behind in the city, he never saw his past self again. He sought after religion to justify his reason for living and became someone completely different. His encounter with Ann’s mother is ironic as he prays for the women he killed to rest in peace. His story plays with the idea of how sinners find salvation in religion, making it possible for one to forget and put everything in the past. Hans doesn’t remember his love for his wife; he uses his relationship with Ann to forget his place in society. With Ann, he is able to regain his ability to live in passion, reigniting a fire in his heart. Though Ann reignited a passion, he never saw her again. Their relationship was a brief flicker of a candle light, often missed by the naked eyed.