The Oblivion

the hell

"WHAT DO YOU mean she committed suicide? You heartless child! I'm the mother of a rotten liar and murderer!" Mother screamed.

"Mother, I'm not lying!" I protested.

"I bet that's a lie itself!" Mother declared dramatically.

It's been three days after Daisy's death, and Mother isn't the only person to accuse me, as she died outside my window. Even father shook his head in disbelief, his eyes gleaming. Folk in town gave me disapproving looks, even raising their eyebrows rudely. It took everything in me not to insult their contradiction.

After Daisy killed herself I had to physically haul her to the medical house where they treat the sick. The look of lifelessness was dull in her glassy eyes, and the voice of a sweet maiden calling out to purchase beautiful products have now disappeared for ever. What about her family? I never asked her about them. The fact that I barley knew much about Daisy and she died at my window nearly besotted me. The worst part was taking her there, people staring, dumbfounded. My arms and legs prickled with effort when I carried her there, beads of sweat lined of my forehead, grunting with determination.

When I had finally reached the doctor, he came back from the check up, sighing and shaking his head. He didn't need to tell me Daisy was dead.

I was overcome with fear, confusion and sadness. I wanted to crawl into my bed and cry the second I got home. But before that, I had to go through her old mother, shooting and shrieking at me as if I was the one who stabbed her. I was sent to a posh judge, where we met in an abandoned huge mansion made of wood.The place smelled of rotting rats and musky odor. Where I lived, judges weren't something you got to see much, and even when you saw them, you could see he/she was just some short man without wearing fancy hair coverage holding some hammer. I was terrified that they may arrest me, but my father told me that the odds were low and that they didn't send children to jail, just a place for juveniles. It didn't matter, anyway, because we didn't really have juvenile people. My parents stood with me with shame as the judge asked me endless questions about her witnessed death. I answered truthfully enough, even when he asked "Did she leave a message before her death? Perhaps a few words?"

I wondered if I should mention the strange verse she said. Was it a poem, or was it certainly a verse? She didn't sing it, for all I knew that she had a beautiful voice. In the end, she was one of my dearest friends, the girl who gave me a leather collar which is worth fifty gold coins.

"She did say something," I croaked hoarsely, the words tumbling out of my mouth.

"What was that?" The judge cupped his hand beside his ear.

"She said a verse; one that rhymes," I said loudly. The judge wrote it down and cleared his throat. "What did she say?"

I didn't remember it fully. Only traces, like: A nightmare of nonchance...or was it nonchalance?

"I only remember a few words, honestly."

"Please say them out loud," The judge said impatiently.

I tensed for a second, thinking, then reversed what she said. "A nightmare of nonchalance, a leader of despair." I paused.

But then I got stuck. Abruptly.

The judge didn't bother writing it down, because he clearly thought it was nonsense and that I wasn't telling the truth.

The judge had let me go after a few questions. Mother clearly wasn't convinced that I didn't kill Daisy. She said I brought shame to the family. Father said and stood up for me at the fact that I wasn't a liar, but he would't look me in the eye with the same modesty as before.