Berceuse for The Suffering (Complete)

14. {Neighbour}

The man's visage was marred by the unforgiving incident that had consumed his face. He toiled day in, day out as a gas station attendant, all the while contending with the baffled stares of passersby. On one of those interminable days, as he sat down to rest his weary body during lunch break, a sharp crack pierced the air, followed by the staccato roar of gunfire.

The man bolted upright, instinctively aware of the danger that lurked just outside. He scrambled for cover, his pulse racing as he attempted to make sense of the chaos around him. The searing pain that suddenly blossomed in his shoulder brought him crashing to the ground, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he had not escaped unscathed.

As he lay there, drifting between the worlds of the living and the dead, his mind was consumed by a singular thought that had bewitched him for years: the girl who had divided into two, right before his very eyes.

In his imagination, he relived the moment over and over, struggling to decipher the enigma that lay at its core. Had it been a trick of the light or some other inexplicable phenomenon of the universe? The answer eluded him still, and he despaired of ever finding it. She was his boogeyman.

But at that moment, as his consciousness ebbed away, he deduced that perhaps it was not meant to be solved. It was not some puzzle to be unlocked, some code to be deciphered. It was a reminder of the unfathomable mysteries of existence, of the endless possibilities that lay hidden beneath the cloak of everyday reality. It was the punishment for a crime his younger and stupid self had committed.

And as he struggled to breathe the man knew that he had been granted a glimpse of something truly extraordinary. Something that transcended the borders of space and time, something that only the purest of spirits could comprehend. It was something that wasn't meant to be understood by someone like him. It was something that would one day come for him.

With that epiphany, he slipped away from consciousness.

***

As Latifa glanced out of the window, her eyes narrowed in concern. "That old woman is back," she murmured to her husband, Antonio.

Antonio's response was an uninterested grunt. But Latifa was not easily deterred. "Why are you so calm about this?" she demanded, stalking him. "There is clearly something wrong with that family. Linda has done something to her child. I just know it."

Antonio's patience was wearing thin. "They have been through a lot, and so had Lylibeth. Leave them alone," he barked.

Latifa's incredulous expression betrayed her frustration. "How can you be so content with inaction, Antonio? We cannot ignore the signs."

But Antonio had made up his mind. "We know nothing, Latifa. All you have are unfounded speculations. Your fixation with the Adamses has consumed too much of your time already. We have our own problems that we need to focus on."

Latifa's shoulders slumped in defeat as she retreated from the window. The gnawing feeling in her gut only intensified as she saw Lylibeth Adams peeking out her bedroom window, hair in disarray with what appeared to be a red liquid cascading down her cheek. Something was definitely amiss, but she felt helpless to do anything about it.

Pacing back and forth in frustration, Latifa felt her heart grow heavy with worry for the Adams' child. It was clear she could not rely on her husband for help. Determined to take matters into her own hands, she resolved to do whatever it took to uncover the truth and help the innocent child.

Picking up the phone, Latifa did the only thing she could think of; call the authorities.

It was the gruff voice of Henry Shelby that answered her when the call was connected. Clearing her throat she relayed her worries. She told him that she believe Lylibeth Adams was being abused by her parents. "Is that so," Henry answered.