Hymn of Ame (COMPLETED)

[08] The Night of 13 People

“Open your eyes!” shouts Mayari. The eggs have lined up by her sides. "Sinners don't deserve any form of mercy. Open your eyes. Watch your friend pay the price of their sins!"

"Open," says Hukluban's voice behind me. My eyes automatically fly open, and it stings the way the skin around it stretches, like my eyeballs are about to pop out. I clap my hands over my ears as last feeble attempt to keep my eyes safe in my skull.

“You all have sinned.” It really grates on my nerves how she keeps saying the same phrase over and over again. "You all have sinned. But you've committed far greater sin than them. You deserve the worst. You deserve to watch them die. That way, you will know how wrong it is to charm one of Bathala's closest families."

Fritzie descends. Surrounded by trees, not eggs; on the ground, not flying, she looks normal. And I like it. Here, we are equal. Here, I can fight.

My stomach drops at the thought of watching them die. But there's also anger in me. No, there's so much of it. My teeth grate against each other; my hands shake uncontrollably. I want to venture it out. I start towards Fritzie, throw my arm behind me, and swing it back at Fritzie's cheek. But I'm not satisfied. Unlike the first one, this feels weak. This feels unfair; this makes me realize the gap between our strengths. I hate it.

But I've decided to play it cool. “Since one slap seemed not enough," I comment. "You've earned it."

"You!" she shouts, baring her teeth at me. Like a dog ready to leap on me. "I let the first one pass. But this . . . "

Fritzie reaches for my hair to grab a fistful of strands, yanking harshly. Everything has gone so fast, it's literally a blur for me. I just realize I'm waggling my feet, trying to reach the ground. My scalp is burning in pain. My lower body is getting heavy. I reach blindly for Fritzie's arm. I hook the back of my elbow on Fritzie's forearm, lifting myself to lessen the pain.

She's so strong. She's lifting me like I am without substance, without weight. I would wince every time she talks, because unknowingly, her fist gets tighter. I swing myself, bearing with the pain as I lunch my leg to her stomach. She groans, and then I hit the ground with a thud, my right arm squeezed between my body and the floor. I think I hurt it, because when I've tried to move it, it doesn't budge. Well, it does, but barely. And with an intense pain.

I flinch from the malice in her face; I'm not as fearless as I've thought.

"You are tougher than you look," she says, "or maybe just plain stupid to fight with strength so weak it's laughable."

Fritzie crouches down, making her eyes level with mine. It's easy to think she's just a dog. I hope she's just a dog, so I would know what to do; I will not avert my eyes — that's a sign of submission. But she's Fritzie. When her right eye sinks into her skull, out of sight, I clench my teeth to keep from screaming. There's only the tattered socket, and I could have sworn I catch a glimpse of her brain through it.

Something chimes in my ear. Golden bangles appear around Fritzie's wrists. A golden necklace. Golden earrings. They catch on the moonlight, and they give off an unpleasant gleam. Her school uniform dissolves into her skin, replaced with rather thin veil. I grimace at her nudity.

It's hasty to say that the worst part is when I see her right eye perishes into the hollow of her skull, because when I see what have happened to the other half of her eyes, it's literally rendered me speechless. It becomes bigger, rounder, and, I don't want to believe it, but darker. And the black of that one eye seems to seep into me, fill my throat to choking. Her skin becomes paler than I've ever seen.