Monster
(The Last Words)
5:30 AM at the cemetery.
Jane is here. Finally.
I was standing in front of someone’s burial. Wearing all black dress without a smokey eyes. I put a bucket of lilies on the gravestone. The smells of that flowers stuck into my nose, make me want to sneezing every five minutes. But I can’t complaining. Not right now. All I have done was bravely enough to come to visit here after 2 days mourning by myself in my room. Deeply fell into depression and conclusion. It’s not easy to drag out yourself from your cell. Your own cell in your state of mine.
My mom was coming and knocking at my door. “Honey, time to go. You come in?,” asked her to me who has been lying on my bed. Nothing to do except sleeping whole day. Less eat, just drink some water sometimes Vodka and coffee. When the door opened I saw Mom wore a black long dress and prepared herself going to the church, the last funeral of her daughter, Mary, who died 2 days ago, my twin sister. Someone killed her.
“No. You go first, Mom.” I replied without looking back at her. I was pulling back myself into my blanket and started to sleep again. I feel numb. I can’t feel anything except my will to die.
Mom walked through the door way and pulled my blanket that covered all over my body. “Wake up, Jane! You’ve had enough sleep,” she said, fed up.
“I am still awake since 2 days ago, Mom! I can’t even sleep since that horrible day!,” I said to her, almost screaming because of my anger issues.
“Honey,” she said, lowering down her voice this time. “I know it’s hard for you, for us too. I understand.” She touched my hair softly to comfort me and she started to cry again. “But please, just let her---go.”
“No. I can’t.” I shook my head twice. My eyes became red and I was staring at mom like I was ready to eat her alive. “She’s not dead!”
“You’re in denial. Yes she was, Jane! She’s gone! Forever! Your twins’ dead!,” said mom to me again. She stood up and looking back at me. She has been trying to convince me about that but only me who know the truth about this. About Mary. Nobody knows except me.
“NO! NO! Stop it! I hate you, Mom! Why did you tell me such a stupid words like that?! She’s still here with us! I can feel it! I can feel her presence!”
“Jane, please. Don’t be like that. I know you didn’t drink you pills. It’s okay, Honey. We will be okay.”
“Are you really going to be okay, Mom? With all of this?”
She nodded with her face full of tears and sadness. “I’ve tried to.”
“But I can’t.”
“So, what would you do now? Huh? Trying to fake everyting?! Come on, Jane. You are the smartest here.”
“I’m not faking everything!”
“Then now what?”
“I--- just can’t---,”
Silence.
I looked down to my feet. I saw my phone was ringing but I will not allowed myself to answer it. I got so many text message and phonecall from the same person but I denied it. Then I started to cry again.
Mom hold me tightly and kiss my forehead twice. “It’s the last time you will see your sister. Face the truth that she’s gone. Okay? Now, wake up, go get shower and I will wait for 20 minutes downstairs.”
--
I was standing alone.
Mom left me alone, giving me a space to say goodbye for the last time to Mary. And I did try my best to hide my feelings from everyone. With this situation, pills and Vodka won’t work. Then suddenly I see a white dove on Mary’s gravestone, staring and looking at me directly. I looked back at it, just wondering what kind of sign was that. But suddenly the wind was blowing my red-brown hair and I found out that the dove has gone.
Should I say goodbye to you, Mary? I hate this but you know why.
Drrrrrrrrrrrr. Drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
My phone was ringing in my pocket. I took it and see that I got a message again from someone named Luke Anderson.
‘Hey, what’s up? You allright?’
Before I reply his message I saw Luke Anderson was coming closer. “It took forever for you to reply my messages, Darling,” he said to me with his British accent and a smile.
I put my phone into my pocket. “Because I need extra power and energy to convince her that everything’s normal.”
“Oh, you are not.”
“Well, we are not.”
“Okay well, it’s the right time to go.”
I looked at Mary’s gravestone for the last time. “I’m sorry Sister Mary. I’ll see in hell.”
--
ns 18.68.41.141da2
