The Witch's Toy ✔

39: heaven is better

Epilogue

Sitting back, I let out a sigh through my nose, taking off my glasses for a moment to rub the sleep out of my eyes. The mini aquarium my previous boss left in her office was still right across from me, the tank well-kept and all the fish happily swimming around like they have nothing to lose. And that was true — in some respect.

Most days, I was the first to arrive at the small publishing house, sitting for at least an hour by myself before the staff started slowly flowing in, sometimes peeking in to offer me a small greeting. And I'd nod right back, give them a smile, and save the conversations for lunch break or after meetings.

If I was honest, I wasn't anything else but professional towards my colleagues. Maybe some of them considered me a friend, but I guess I couldn't really call them one.

It had been a while since I made my last friend and a long time since I parted ways with her after everything we'd gone through.

After winter break of my last year in high school, just another term left before graduation, Mina didn't say anything about what happened at the holiday party nor did she ever pay me any attention. She seemed hollow almost — like one of those ghosts I'd see wandering around the streets, bloody and broken, yet at the same time, completely unaware and disconnected towards their surroundings.

I didn't even have to worry about making eye contact with any of them because even if I did, their vision wouldn't recognize what happened.

If anything, it was an odd parting. I never forgave her for what she did nor did she ever apologize, but it didn't matter. I probably wouldn't have even responded if she did, or given her any indication that I, at least, accepted it.

And so, I graduated — without Raphael by my side, but with both my mother and grandmother there for me, bringing me a bouquet up on stage after my commemorative speech and making me flustered in front of my fellow classmates. None of them ever expected me to make such an expression, but things change. People change, and oddly enough, I did. A whole lot.

I moved out of my parent's old apartment, sold it off to someone. Moved closer to the center of the city right in the heart of it all.

Hong Kong was already crowded to begin with, all the space in between so narrow that architect's only option was to expand the space up. Nevertheless, I still managed to buy a relatively large apartment for just myself. I didn't really want to admit it, but I probably subconsciously told myself that I would need all that room once Raphael and the other demons came back from Hell. Sometimes, I still struggle with being honest with myself.

I graduated university, applied to this publishing house as an intern for a year, working a few part-time jobs at local cafés, then slowly climbed up the latter — all the way up to the position as Editor in Chief.

My eyes rolled up to the ceiling, eyes becoming heavier as I gazed at that cream color. It seemed endless, the color wrapping around the entire room seamlessly, cocooning me into some kind of soft embrace that only raised my desire to sleep. But I couldn't — not until I finished with this manuscript.

A puff of air escaped from between my lips, my entire body deflating like a helium balloon on its second week. It's almost been... what? Ten years? Time melded together for me, each tick of a second disappearing from my vocabulary and replacing it with just a definition that didn't even make any sense.

I hardly knew what hours meant or even what days were.

All I understood were those deadlines that literally carved its way into my mind and at the back of my skull, repeating itself over and over again. A broken record, playing the same measure. The same few notes, same rhythm, same melody. Like a piano that only had a few keys.