Sock Puppets : Liu Yangyang

Chapter 4: Flames and Thunder

Y A N G Y A N G

20 December 2006

Was something wrong?

I clutched her birthday presents in my hands. They were two polished wooden cars the size of my fist, one red and one blue. Nervousness buzzed in my ears. Neyza wasn't acting herself.

The only response she'd given me when I wished her was the faintest of smiles. If she'd noticed the gifts, she said nothing about them. That was strange.

'Neyza, are you... okay?' I ventured.

'I'm fine, Yangyang,' she replied distractedly.

Yangyang. Not Mister Death. Something was definitely wrong. I pulled out Theodore from my pocket.

'Hey sweetheart. Where's Ophelia?' Theodore asked.

'Ophelia? I burnt her.'

I froze. 'You... burnt her?'

I tried to put my arm around her shoulder, but she slapped it away. 'Don't touch me, Yangyang.'

The molten gold in her eyes hardened as she turned to look at me. A blanket of hostility was wrapped around her.

'They say you took her,' she said quietly.

'Neyza, I don't know what you're-'

'Saphyr. They say Death took her.'

'Oh. Oh, sweet stars.'

'Is it true?'

'Listen, I-'

'Tell me if it's true, Death.' She spat out my name bitterly, standing up. 'Did you take her?'

'I can explain-'

'Why? Why did you take her away?' She wailed. 'Give her back!'

It broke me. It broke me how much I cared about her, and how she had grown on me in the span of a few months. It broke me how she looked at me with such rage. It broke me how a steady stream of tears dribbled down her cheeks.

'GO AWAY!' she screamed. 'YOU MONSTER!'

It ripped me to shreds.

I took a step towards her, but stopped upon seeing a familiar pale, black-haired man. Doyoung, the Spirit of Anger.

He smiled sympathetically, motioning with one hand for me to go. It's no use, his expression read. Leave her alone.

The sky turned an ashen colour, and heavy clouds lined up above us. Thunder growled hungrily.

I sensed an aura. A very familiar one.

It was her. She was coming. As much as I hated this, I had to leave. 

'I know it's hard for you,' I began, 'But I trust you, Neyza. I trust that one day you'll understand. And I hope you'll forgive me then.'

As a final parting gift, I tossed a chrysanthemum onto the ground. Then I smiled dolefully, watching her drop to her knees, bawling, as I evanesced.

It was bound to happen.