She breathed out the air she didn't know she was holding in as she looked at me dead in the eyes.
I blinked and I just couldn't get the lump out of my throat. While she kept staring like she always did, I couldn't bare to look at her so I kept my head down. I have mixed feelings right now but fortunately anger wasn't one of them. But I'm scared, not the kind of scared that you feel when you see a ghost, it's the kind of scared where you realize that she is not a ghost, she's real but at the same time she's dead.
I get everything but at the same time I don't. I can't understand anything anymore at the moment.
The room returned from the heavy tension to an eerie silence but I can't hear my own heart beating, perhaps it stopped. I fiddled with my fingers as I still kept my head down. I can feel her strong gaze, just waiting for me to say something.
I lifted my head up and looked at everything but her. Didn't take long to distract myself because the room was practically empty and the only thing I saw was the broken pieces of my recorder.
I have to face her.
I gathered up all my courage and hesitantly looked at her. I caught her bloodshot eyes directly staring at me and at the back of my head I kept asking myself.
Why didn't I leave sooner?
She was sitted courtly, her dirty handcuffed hands were intertwined with each other and rested on top of the table; she wasn't shaking at all. It was like 4 years ago was already buried deep along with herself.
We both just stared at each other and remained silent. Whether she was silent because she was done or she was just waiting for a reaction. Either way it was scaring me. Her eyes has seen so much pain that I can't even tell how much it has seen. Literally.
I jumped and let out a small girlish shriek when the door opened. She narrowed her eyes and bent her head downward to avoid the blinding light but she remained her gallant poise.
I turned around to have a look at who opened the door and revealed a man with a long white robe, who, if I remember correctly, was one of the few men who accompanied me here.
He looked at the girl with scorn and loathe in his eyes but soon replaced with an absentminded smile when he turned to me. He gave me a slight nod indicating that I need to go.
I was practically glued to my seat; I turned to look at the girl who was already staring at me again but this time her gaze was softer.
Even though I was hesitant, I bent down and took my bag from the floor and proceeded to stand and head towards the door.
The man looked from across the room and guessing from his annoyed groan he must have seen the broken recorder and assumed a fight happened.
"Ugh, wretched woman!" he hissed while glaring at the girl who just stared back with another blank expression. I could feel a small smile tugging at the end of my lips. "I deeply apologize for her actions if she has caused a disturbance or anything that ruined the interview. I will make sure to-"
"Don't go hard on her," I cut in. I wasn't mad at the man because for some unknown reason I pity him.
The man was surprised at my tone but remained quiet. I looked at the girl once more and gave her a warm smile.
"He forgives you."
She continued to stare at me again with her famous blank gaze so I took it as a goodbye. I began to fully walk out of the door with the man infront of me when I heard her once again angelic voice.
"Thank you... Rodrick."
I smiled without turning to face her and just proceeded on walking until I left the place.
After that long day, I went to the publishing house and told my boss that I chickened out on the last minute.
He wasn't mad though, he even understood me.
'It has been 4 years and that's the only news people just can't forget in this town', I remember him say.
He ranted about the people that just needs to forget that crazy incident and that I had to work on another interesting topic for the article. I just kept nodding to get it over with. After that I went home, keeping everything for myself.
Now it's the middle of the night and I'm sitting in the middle of my room in dim lighting, watching the tv airing some cartoon that just somehow seemed inaudible to me. My eyes were on the tv but my mind's somewhere else.
Somehow I can feel the pain even if I wasn't there to witness it. It was horrible and if I was called brave then what was she called? A lunatic?
If being classified as a lunatic was to kill and just accept the lies then what do you call someone who thinks that he killed and wants to get all the truth out of his head?
Keeping the promise of not telling anyone was more painful than what I expected. It's mentally killing me.
I don't know what to do anymore.
I breathed in a large amount of air as I slowly closed my eyes.
Suddenly I can hear her voice, telling the story once more. Telling me to keep breathing even after every pause she makes.
--
"You won't know how to face people after this, but you seem persistent so listen well," she smiled. She straightened herself up and kept her poise.
"Let's start off with something happy shall we?
"As you have already known, I am the eldest of two children from a very rich family in this dump of a town. Though because of our wealth, people distance themselves from my family.
"I couldn't care less, that was until mommy dearest was pregnant with my beloved brother. I waited for his arrival, planning of sloppy baby names, dreaming of big things for both of us.
"I was 5 when brother first cried. It was pleasant to hear him scream to life that he was alive because unlike the other babies he didn't cry right away. A cry for dear life. Ha. So that was it, my brother was alive.
"I became second place ever since then. Except I didn't care, I have always been second even before he came in. Don't get me wrong, I love my brother. More than I love myself.
"He became good at almost everything at the age of 6, and I became good at cheering for him. He was always right, I was the opposite. I was a prodigy, he was a prince.
"I was 13 when my brother told me that he became fascinated with scientific mumbo-jumbos. I supported him of course. To make it short, we were inseparable, by the way, and to make it humorous he became so mature and intelligent than how he looks. It's funny because I could never top that.
"After a few months on his nerd camp, he became obsessed with his study and he wanted to top Einstein with his silly theories. He became distant as my lovely parents came to praise him more.
"Never in my life did I feel left out until my brother chose books over me. I rubbed it off. Or so I thought.
