This could be the answer. The infinite math problem, the secret to my existence, the reason we have gods. Everything that matters to my own existence is laid to rest within this file. It's the late hours of the night, the house sits oddly quiet. Ophelia's body is placed in a coma for a slumber she can't awake, Lain coos Teller to sleep, Evian no longer hustles about to find his parents. The midnight clamor of gossip between Garnet and Azure has ceased. Wiki is not laughing at her jokes, Conch is not practicing summoning his spiders. I do not hear Imogen's door creek open to peer into Vera's room. Echo has no lady in his apartment tonight. There is no rustle of snack bags that Rune and Fawn sneak into in the wee hours. Ivan is not showering at an inappropriate time. Ky doesn't restlessly stay awake and fiddle about with his toys. Maude and Thorne do not giggle about in between the sunset and daybreak. Simon is not pondering within the library. Maia and Ace watch over Ophelia's body, waiting for any sudden movement or sign of existing life. They probably decide she will not awaken tonight and it is best to let her be. Watching her will have no affect on the state of her health. I hear their footsteps climb up the staircase, leaving Ophelia in peace for the night.
I lay in my bed, my pillows scattered around me, one lamp dimmed and shining a constellation pattern about the grey hued walls. In my lap, sits the folder. The edges are crinkled from not being touched in many years. I wonder if the Vandenberg contained in this folder was forgotten about; the idea sets me uneasy.
My finger touches the edge of the file.
I knew the quiet was terrible.
For in the instant, my door swings open and a swampy mass of hot air fills my bedroom. Wiki opens her mouth, "Fire!"
An animal-like instinct is flicked on inside me. For I am faced with life and death. I could choose to take a moment and recollect the file or run for my sake of my life. I choose my life. The file and its contents fly behind me onto the bed. I dart from my doorway and down the stairs, crammed and crushed by the other scared bodies of my teammates. We all decided, long ago at a meeting; that if an unusual event of a fire was to happen, we would meet by Thorne's garden. We all collectively sprint to the same place; the fire is now starting to pick
up speed. The inside of the house becomes molten and swollen with smoke. My instincts tell me to push through, that is what my head says. My heart is telling that I am forgetting a vital piece. I turn the opposite direction in the swarm of people. I can't even look at the blur of faces I push through. Someone calls out my name, but I transcend deeper into the midst of blames. A beam from above crashes and becomes ashy. Gentle and unsupportive, it falls from the ceiling. It lands right behind me, a fray of ambers sprays against my back. I scream and carry on further. The flames gather around me and they blister my skin. The hair covering my arms singes off.
I swing open the wide door of the infirmary. I gasp for fresh air, but cannot find it. Ophelia's body lays clean and supple, oblivious to everything around her. I gather my strength and carry her body from the bed. I cradle her in my arms. She is still heavy from the fact of having a child grow within her womb. Yet, I slip her knees and shoulders over my forearms. I shove my way out of the infirmary, a wave of hot air blasts in our faces. I can't breathe, the fire is burning up all the oxygen.
The air in the garden is beautiful, clean and fresh. Once we reach it, I look up to the sky and thank every god there is. We huff in the air, Lain takes Ophelia from my arms. He holds her like she is Teller, close to his heart.
Garnet grabs my hands, her face full of tears, they glisten in the pale moonlight, "I didn't do it!" she cries out, begging me to forget what her past was. Her passion moves me to believe her and I do. I do because out of the corner of my eye, I see a wisp of blonde hair. I squeeze her hand only to let it go. Without screaming, without consulting anyone, I chase after the owner of the blonde wisp of hair. I can barely see my steps; I can barely see the blonde girl. All I can make out is a fuzzy outline of her mask, a ribbon flying off the trail of her black dress. She glances behind her, she acknowledges the fact that I'm lagging behind. She speeds up; I catch up.
I chase her, my heels right behind hers. In the cool crisp, nighttime air I've followed her through the Residential District, where all the Team Houses and Resident Dwellings are located. I chase her down the beaten off path of Main Street. The path is untraveled, but for some reason I always end up upon it. I find myself in the edge of Spruce Forest, the beginning and the end. I breath heavy, my mouth making soft clouds of the chilly air. She stops, her dress swinging, hate and rage filled in her eyes.
"Who are you?" I cry out. I reach from the edge of her dress, my fingertips just miss it, the fabric slips over the pads of my fingers and the silky, but rough texture of the dress lingers in my nerves.
She turns around, a smile spreads in her pink gums, "You found me!" She tilts her head back and laughs.
Without saying another word, without even warning me, a thick beam of red energy shoots right between my nose My vision blurs, I remember the first time I ran into this forest. The bright, warm day. The girl with pink hair and a throat that didn't speak words for months. Today, it is cold, the air is chilly and I could see my breath. My body slips, my shoulders slamming into the cold hard ground. For the summer is beautiful and arid, the winter makes me cold inside. The closeness is my fears and loneliness; the coldness has betrayed me.
