Where Is Your Rider?

Chapter VII: Water

Galatea; she who is milk-white. She was a statue made by the famous Pygmalion of Cyprus. The statue was so beautiful that Pygmalion fell in love with his creation. With the help of the goddess Aphrodite, the gorgeous statue of the milk-white woman was turned into a woman. They were united in marriage.

Evangeline and I, we were the opposites of Galatea and Pygmalion. She was the most wonderful woman alive, with a beating heart of flesh, not marble. But as Pygmalion did, I sculpted her, but I did not bring her to life with the help of a god. No, by the curse of a godless being, I had turned Evangeline to stone.

She needed me, but I remained stoic. She must have thought she was the only one of us still alive, as I was not worthy of that title anymore. I slowly began to accept that lingering awareness that I was going to outlive her. It was no longer a question of whether she would die, it was when she would die. Can you imagine how hard it is to accept you have caused the deaths of the people you love dearest? How could I remain alive? The pain you had caused me became merely the blisters on my feet, but with each step I took, my bones broke and my muscles ripped apart. You could not be my biggest concern anymore. And yet, I thought I needed you most at that moment. I needed you to hold me and rock me slowly on your lap, while we listen to music we both like. Eventually, we would fall asleep together.

But I could not come to you. Evangeline was the one who could lull my anxious thoughts, but I could no longer talk to her. I had ruined everything.

After Kiara's death, Evangeline moved in with me. We had a second bedroom where she had unloaded her possessions. I think she slept in her own bed for a couple of hours until she sought comfort within my vicinity. For hours, we talked, but the conversation was always the same.

"I can't believe they're gone."

"Neither can I."

"I don't think I'll survive much longer."

I remained silent.

What could I have told her? I knew she would die next. Her dark body was a shade darker where her tears stained her dried-out skin. Her black hair lay spread out on the pillow, like the branches of a tree. I, myself, had no tears left to shed. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the things I regretted. Emily, Kiara, Evangeline, you. I shifted the sheets and faced the wall. Evangeline touched my back in the hopes I would face her and comfort her. I did not. Somehow, I fell asleep.

Neither of us went to work. We had saved some money and we would be fine for a few months. Her boss was kind enough to allow her to return when she felt like it. Mine wasn't so generous. But I didn't care, as I somehow knew I would not need a job anymore.

Her sister brought us groceries sometimes. Other times, I would force myself to leave the house. We rarely did. We spoke less and less. She came in once as I was shaving in the mirror. I didn't even see her, as I was staring at my own reflection. The mirror was a bit foggy because I had just taken a shower, but I could swear I had wings. A pair of black wings, growing from my sides. I couldn't feel them, Evangeline couldn't see them. She ignored me as she came into the bathroom. She grabbed something, but I did not see what. Within a minute, I had forgotten she existed. For days we would forget to eat. I stopped shaving, she stopped painting her nails. People would try to visit us, but they were not like the friends we had lost, so we pretended we were not there.

It was about a month and a half after Kiara's death that I realized what I was doing. Evangeline was an hourglass, and her time was running out. I was letting her waste herself away. I was wasting myself away. I had to tell her the truth.

For a very long time, I did not tell her about the events in Athens. The Aegean Sea, near the Temple of Artemis. But I had to. That was the least I owed her.