In Our Terms

I

I.

“.. I’m sorry! We.. We were sorry! We were just joking! Please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry please don’t kil—” 

“Bullshit.” he murmured. 

The girl on the screen was screaming and begging to another guy, all while her lower half was in an empty open grave. It’s drizzling, soon the dirt begins to wet and becomes mud, smearing on her cheeks and dirtying her arms. Her hair that once meticulously styled were now unkempt and shining in brown mud down to its tips. 

“I’m sorry, please! I–I’ve liked you.. really.. I fancied you.. I admire you but–! But.. but I wasn’t able to because the–they will torment me! I’m sorry please!” she begged, yet again. 

He scoffed. “Wah really, full of crap.” 

Her whimpers ended and her eyes shut, expecting a painful hit from above. When it didn’t happen, she slowly opened her eyes and looked up.. her entire being trembling to see the empty space, only the deep prints of a pair of boots were left. She began to wail but as she was just turning, the guy appeared behind her with a thick wood on his arms. With a single whip and blow, the surrounding turns black—

*THUD* “—FUCK!” Kane cursed again and turned wildly behind him to see how hard their door was still standing. “What’s your problem startling me!” 

Harriet, Kane’s roommate, stares deadly. Dropping her bag onto the floor and tossing a piece of jade hairpin from her hair. “Fuck I’m so pissed.” she glowered. 

Kane blinks, although not knowing the reason but he can read the mood. He picks up the remote and turns off the TV, nevermind the cheap, low quality, bullied teenager seeking revenge movie that he was watching earlier. He turned to Harriet from the kitchen, she grabbed a can of beer. 

“Work?” he asked. “Scumbag client?” 

She propped the can open aggressively. “Were there any days I didn’t complain about a scumbag client?” she replied. “No, it’s not about the client but it is related to my former client.” 

Intrigue, Kane senses there’s something more from her story. “Lemme’ ask, did anyone try to do anything physical?” 

“Nope, but they sure are fucking mentally ill. The whole bunch of families! Damn rich world, lots of money lacks class. Psh. Educated bullshit..” she continued to murmur. 

Kane hummed, glanced at the clock. “You were supposed to be out until midnight.” 

“Well yeah, that was the plan but nah, I walked out from my client.” she admitted, downing the beer. “but I’m too tired and pissed to be telling a story. I’ll tell you tomorrow.” 

Disappointed but Kane understands. “All right, I’m glad nothing happened to hurt you though. Please shower before actually sleeping.”

“Ugh..” 

“Please,” he heard the door shut in. 

Kane looked at the trail of clothings, the small pouch Harriet always took with her, another piece of hairpin and a shiny black belt she wore in her waist earlier that day. He sighed and got up lazily to collect them.

This wasn’t the first time Harriet came home in a foul mood, it happens often, especially with her job. 

And everytime she comes back, it’s always for a different reason. ‘It’s like the universe finds every unique way to pisses me off every day! Goddamnit!’ she once yelled upon entering, offering no explanation and making a beeline towards her room.