Seven in One

Chapter 1: "Seven, Eight, Nine"

"Try not sleeping for a week or two. Woken up by nightmares, resting for three, four hours tops. How about still attending school seven hours a day, and coming back home to study some more.... Try doing all that at the age of fifteen and not acting psychotic. It's all because I'm bottling myself up. It wasn't like I was social a year ago before the accident. Going to a doctor every week for a checkup; getting a prescription for stress pills to help me sleep. My family is forcing me to attend these group sessions; they say that it'll be good for my wellbeing. That's why I'm here, instead of studying for my final exams, may I add." Sevin said loud enough for the group to hear. He hated talking; hated it more if he was talking about himself and his emotions.

"Thank you for sharing," Tracy Frigs the adviser said with a smile. Noticing no one is going to speak up, she soon began. "Every culture has its own way of saying goodbye. Rituals prepare the living for death, and for one another, ease the journey for what comes after."

"Assuming that there is an after." Sevin thought, wondering when all this was going to be over.

"At the end death is a journey that you take alone, embracing your fate or not, leaving everything behind...."

---

"One hour and a half!" Sevin exclaimed to his mother. "I'm not going there ever again it's been two weeks now, and I talked this time. I as well have my finals to prepare fo-".

His mother cut him off before he could continue complaining. "Fine!" A faint smile appeared on Sevin's face and quickly faded. "Now go study," she ordered.

A week into summer had passed. Sevin's family returned to the village in the mountains where his father grew up in, just like every year. The village was a three hour drive from the city, surrounded by a forest in between a valley. It was modern for a village, in the middle of nowhere, schools, hospitals, touristic sites....

Sevin woke to dark wood staring down at him. He was somehow lying comfortably under the small wooden table, something he would not have thought possible to do consciously, let alone unconsciously. A glance to his left confirmed he was in the sitting room, same as every day this past week. It was the part of the house they normally used only for weddings and memorials. Surrendering to his body's persistence, Sevin laid there for some time, staring up at the underside of the tabletop until he noticed a hole, camouflaged by an object from the inside. The color was identical; at quick glance it would easily be overlooked.

He rolled out from under the table, hastily positioning upwards on his jelly feet, looking for an opening. Nothing was visible. He removed everything off the table: the picture frame, the candles, and the porcelain swan shaped vase, along with a green tablecloth. There was still no visible way into the table, unless you were to smash it open. Knowing that wasn't a choice, Sevin started running his hand over the table's surface. A faint bulge snagged his fingertips. The bulge was masked by carved artwork inlay, which filled the table's surface. Kneeling down to get a closer look, he placed his hand over the bulge. It seemed to spell something. "Sevin!" A voice shouted, echoing in his head. Leaping forward, he placed everything back on the table before heading towards the kitchen, where the howl must have originated from.

"What is it Sophie?" Sevin asked. Shivers crawling up his spine, as she turned.

"Well let's see, its morning and I don't see any utensils I could use for making us breakfast. It was your turn to clean the dishes. As a matter of fact, you should have cleaned the dishes last night before bed."

"Okay, okay" Sevin replied before she could continue, "you did not have to yell Sophie it's still eight am you will wake up the whole town."

"I did not yell," she protested, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.