THE PERFECTION: POOL OF BLOOD

CHAPTER 5

I turned eighteen just a few days ago, and I had completed my bachelor's degree in bioengineering in just three years. It was a remarkable achievement, and I was proud of myself. I had gone back to Winsburg after finishing my studies, hoping to find a job that would put my degree to use.

Unfortunately, the Institute of Modern Science was overstaffed, and they had no place for me. They told me that they would call me back if something opened up, but I didn't have high hopes. There weren't many jobs out there, even fewer for bioengineers. The only ones who took us in were the Institute of Modern Science, and they were already overflowing with staff.

On my first day back, I noticed tumbleweeds rolling through the streets. The neighborhood was a lot gloomier than I remembered. Mrs. Queen had died of a heart attack, and her daughter Diane Queen was now living there with her drunkard husband, John. Mr. Devouroux's house was abandoned, and it appeared that he had given up with all the robbery at this place.

As I walked down the street, I couldn't help but feel like I was walking through a ghost town. The silence was deafening, and the emptiness was suffocating. The only sound I could hear was the rustling of leaves as the wind picked up.

"Hey, you!" a voice called out to me. I turned around to see a scruffy-looking man walking towards me. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"Who, me?" I asked.

"Yeah, you. What are you doing here?" he slurred.

"I live here. I'm staying with my aunt," I replied.

"Well, lucky you. I've been trying to get out of this hellhole for years," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"You should be. This place is a dead end. There's nothing here for anyone," he said, taking a swig of his whiskey.

I nodded, not wanting to argue with a drunkard. As he stumbled away, I couldn't help but wonder if he was right. Was there really nothing left for me here?

Hey, Aunt Mary Lou," I said, hugging her.

"Hello, dear. How was your trip?" she asked, leading me inside.

"It was fine. A bit long, but I made it," I replied.

"That's good. You hungry? I made some soup," she said, heading to the kitchen.

"Sure, thanks," I said, following her.

As we sat down to eat, I couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort being back in my aunt's home. She was like a mother to me, and I always felt safe and loved around her.

"So, did you hear back from the Institute of Modern Science?" she asked.

"No, not yet," I replied, sighing.

"Don't worry, dear. Something will come up," she said, patting my hand.

"I hope so," I said, feeling a sense of dread wash over me.

As we finished our meal, I couldn't help but notice how quiet the house was. It was as if the silence had taken over the entire town, and there was no escape from it.

"I'm going to take a walk," I said, standing up.

"Alright, dear. Just be careful," she said, giving me a worried look.

My little walk to distract my mind had turned out to be longer than I had expected. As I walked through the city, I realized that it was more depraved than I had initially thought. Banks were shut down, houses were ransacked, and gang members were openly roaming the streets. I hid and walked in unnoticed parts of the city to save my skin. The neighborhood was now a far cry from what it used to be, with an eerie silence hovering in the air.

Soon, I found myself at one end of a lake. It was a serene place, with the water reflecting the clear blue sky above. I took a deep breath and looked around, trying to shake off the feeling of foreboding that had settled in my chest. And as I looked across the lake, I saw a building that seemed abandoned, but when I looked closely, I realized it was indeed inhabited.

I remembered the building suddenly. It was the nut house, called the "Bug House." It was a place where the mentally ill were sent to be locked away from society. It was said that the inmates of the Bug House were the most dangerous and violent, and it was not uncommon for them to escape and cause chaos in the city.

I shuddered at the thought of the place, and decided to make my way back home. As I walked, I couldn't shake off the feeling that the city had become a dangerous place. The once-thriving streets were now a shell of their former selves. The only sounds were the rustling of the leaves and the occasional sound of a car passing by.

When I finally reached my aunt's house, I found her sitting on the porch, looking worried. "Are you okay?" she asked as she saw me walking towards her.

"I'm fine," I replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"It's not safe out there," she said, shaking her head. "Things have gotten worse since you left. The police can't control the city anymore."

"I noticed," I said, unable to keep the worry out of my voice.

"Something bothering you, honey?" she asked, looking up at me with her warm, motherly eyes.

"I don't know, Aunt Mary. The city is just so different now. It's like a completely different place than the one I remember," I replied.

"Well, you know how things are nowadays. It's not the same world as it used to be," she said, patting my hand.

"Interesting places have failed, Aunt Mary. Banks, businesses, everything. But one building still stands," I said, hoping she would catch on.

"Which building is that?" she asked, looking at me quizzically.

"The Bug House," I replied.

Her eyes widened, and she looked at me in shock.

"The Bug House? That place is cursed, child. You stay far away from there," she said, shuddering.

"I know, Aunt Mary. But I was just curious," I said, trying to justify my interest.

Suddenly, Aunt Mary Lou seemed to feel the need to tell me something. "You know, child, there's something I've been meaning to tell you for a long time now."

I looked at her, curious. "What is it, Aunt Mary?"

She took a deep breath and looked at me seriously. "It's about the day you were born."

I rolled my eyes. "Aunt Mary, I've heard that story a thousand times. I don't need to hear it again."

"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head. "This time you're going to hear the truth."

I was puzzled. "The truth about what?"

She began to speak of a boy born in Kevin Hephurn Hospital, whose mother had gone mad and was sent to North Lake. The father didn't show, and the baby was taken care of and raised by his mother's aunt.

I listened, trying to understand where she was going with this. "What does that have to do with me, Aunt Mary?"

She looked at me with a knowing expression. "The woman's name was Jane-Anne Sinclair."

My eyes opened wide as I was in shock. "Jane-Anne Sinclair? That was my mother's name."

Aunt Mary Lou nodded. "Yes, child. And you were that baby."

I was speechless, trying to process what she had just told me. It was so funny that I being so intelligent did not understand it until she spelled it out for me.