The city of Oslo was raging with excitement, people were singing with joy and yet the tension was louder than the fireworks. Police officers were at every major intersection. People who didn’t go outside went out on the balcony or out the window and sang; they didn’t know why, for what, the significance of that piece but it didn’t matter because people usually follow like sheep.
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“It takes one individual to take a stand and the rest will follow without question. People really are very easy to manipulate.” Leo muttered, looking at all the chaos around him.
The blond Italian and the redheaded Brit walked down the street, out of the café, and started walking aimlessly. There was no particular place they wanted to go, honestly Leo just innocently went after Lanchester. But the red-headed detective seemed to feel a strange excitement, his eyes were glazing over and he seemed to be in sync with the whole event.
“And he said, let them come to me,” Lanchester said with a broad smile on his face.
“Is there anything to listen to in this play? It’s just opera, a popular opera, so why?” asked Leo, not understanding anything. “What should we do, sir?”
Lanchester said nothing for a moment. And suddenly, without any preparation, he began to follow the example of the crowd and sing. Leo stood and stared intently at the detective, curious if all he had done so far was listen intently to the lyrics and memorize them.
Fireworks were still going on, it was such a feast and yet some people were afraid of what could happen next. Leo seemed worried and yet Lanchester was in his own world.
And then the fireworks stopped for a while, the singing dimmed and something surprising happened. One big firework that spelled one word.
Entrance
“What do you think that means, detective?” Leo asked the redhead but Lanchester was reading something different on his phone. “What happened?”
“A lot of things, Leo. And a lot more will happen from now on,”
Nothing mattered to the two British citizens. Whatever fireworks, whatever singing, whatever message Anonymous had for the world did not matter. When Ava received the phone call, it all just stopped. She was standing there like a rock, with no expression.
“I’m sorry to give you this bad news. Miss Plath was found during the evening rounds and...” the nurse stopped and breathed out.
“Why didn’t you call her family?” Ava asked with more calm than expected from the nurse.
“Miss Plath only has you and a mister Andrews written as family members.”
“We’ll come first thing in the morning,” Iwan replied since the phone was on speaker.
That night was spent in complete silence. Ava had her back turned to Iwan but she could hear him cry softly into his pillow. She couldn’t even do that. All she could feel was this intense sense of disappointment towards everything. It was such an irony considering how the fireworks got people so riled up, out and about in order to celebrate life while she was there, cowering in her little corner, in complete silence and darkness.
“Nothing has changed.” She whispered grasping her pillow, feeling fear crawl up her spine.
The next morning was such a mess. They had little to pack but they still moved incredibly fast. One message was sent to Lanchester, just to inform him that they have more urgent issues to deal with than Anonymous.
Ava couldn’t even remember how she got to Bedlam so quickly. The flight was short and the drive to the asylum was even shorter but they still passed by in a blink.
When they arrived at the front desk, a thin nurse welcomed them with a sad smile. She looked apologetic which was the complete opposite of the two lonely adults. Iwan looked so tired, so worn out, even more than before. Ava was passive. It was as if somebody else was living this moment for her and she was somewhere aside, just watching. She didn’t stop once they reached the nurse, she went straight down the corridor that led to the white padded room.
“Nobody expected it, probably that is why she had everything she needed. But it is so unreal. Lauren was doing very well these past months. She looked happier, healthier, she was socializing more and it just...it took the personnel by surprise.” The nurse explained, tearing up and panicking at the memory of the recent event.
Iwan raised an eyebrow and searched his pocket for his vaper, his frail mind needing a source of encouragement and strength.
“Ah sir, you cannot smoke in here,” another nurse scolded Iwan when walking by.
“Did you not contact her family at all?” Iwan asked ignoring the nurse and taking a deep smoke.
“No. We don’t have their contact, not after Lauren’s 18th birthday. She only listed you two,” The thin nurse said and gave them a phone.
“What’s this? Was she even allowed a phone in here?” Iwan asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow.
“There is a video she recorded. She asked me if she could record it on my phone. I never expected it to be for such times.”
Iwan pressed play and the video began. It was her, dancing around as she used to when she wanted to perform as a ballerina. That was a dream that never came to fruition.
Ava was on her way to Lauren’s room. She entered just when the video started.
"And here we are, at long last. Iwan and Ava, my other sides, my better sides. We have seen hell, we reached the bottom of Inferno and we have been trying to get rid of all the Ps on our foreheads. And yet it seems like we cannot get to Paradise.” She started before she got closer to the camera. “Life to be bearable must be lived intensely. Through it, a continuous stream of emotion passes. Though that emotion is ever-changing as flowing water changes, it at least bears us along on a current that gives the illusion of continuity and permanence. But analyze life, tear its trappings off, lay it bare with thought, with logic, with philosophy, and its emptiness is revealed as a bottomless pit; its nothingness frankly confesses to nothingness, and Despair comes to perch in the soul.” She quoted with her beautiful blue eyes staring straight into Iwan’s soul. “My life is nothingness. I don’t know any different. I am in a constant state of contemplation and yet there is no resolution. But my death will mean something. My despair is nothing compared to yours, who has to put on a mask every time you walk out the door, who has to change the pitch of your voice and the glint in your eyes just so that you can be perceived well by others. But I cannot. I can only close my eyes forever and believe that it will mean more than when I open them every morning. But you, you need to keep your eyes open because you never know what could happen. That is the difference between us: I am not afraid of death, while you are terrified of it. I am not afraid to live in the Purgatory while you are afraid you will never reach Paradise. Poor beautiful Ava, you are afraid you will never leave Hell...and I do pity you. If you embrace chaos, it will naturally show you the way towards the light. Get out of the cave and enlighten the rest of the prisoners as well.”
Iwan frowned as he saw Lauren cry with a smile on her face.
“I’m sorry, Iwan. Your hell was because of me. I know you only wanted to protect me but in order to do that, you sacrificed the rest of your life. I truly appreciate everything you did for me but it is time now. It is time for you to truly live and forget the past. I am not scared of him anymore. I can confront him with my head held high.”
That was it. That was the end. Iwan was a crying mess but for Ava, it was all such an intense experience.
As she entered the white padded room, she first noticed the sheets still hanging off the lights. She looked at the bed, at the papers spread around and all of them were music sheets. She then turned towards the one-way glass window and could envision it.
Lauren was in a red dress, the one Ava and Iwan bought her a while ago. A bright red point on a white canvas. Her blonde hair and big blue eyes were complementing the color and she looked closely at her appearance. It made her feel sick to her stomach. You are pretty. He used to tell her that all the time. Her peaceful expression turned into a foul scowl. She hated herself, her looks, everything about herself because of that man. She then turned to look at her bed. It was everything in such order that it made her angry. She brought chaos into the room and it was truly satisfying. She was laughing as she ripped all her books and music sheets. It was freeing. She grabbed the sheets and skillfully knotted them in what was to be her last moments. The rest, Ava didn’t want to imagine.
“We should leave,” Iwan said from the door, his eyes still red. “...Ava?”
Ava was focused on one of the pages on the floor. She frowned as she bent and picked it up. It was a letter, familiar in texture and message.
“And these are love’s records; a vow and a dream,
And the sweet shadow passes away from life’s stream:
Too late we awake to regret—but what tears
Can bring back the waste to our hearts and our years?”
Ava knew this poem because she told Lauren of it. She also used it in a therapy session where the woman wanted to kill herself if her husband was to leave her. She was paranoid and disillusioned. Her husband was sick of her jealousy...and this woman did use to come to her sessions with her son.
“It’s all because of me.” She whispered feeling one tear falling down her cheek. “I the Golem everything he needed and more.”
The ride home for Iwan was both long and short. He has not been back in London after his sister graduated, an event he was obliged to attend out of need more than anything. He never quite liked his sister as a child because they were 12 years apart and most importantly, she was the reason why Iwan met that man in the first place. Moreover, when he finally returned home, all attention was on her, still, and from then on his parents made sure not to let the two siblings alone together.
The cab made a turn and Iwan found himself in front of his parents’ house, his childhood screaming at him to run and never look back, to save himself from the pain that surely will follow. And yet Iwan moved forward, passed the front gate, and walked up the alley towards the front door. On the way, he couldn’t help but glance at the fence surrounding the mansion. If only he didn’t jump over, if only he remained home and dealt with his need for attention, nothing would have happened…
“You’re here,”
Iwan looked up at the woman who has kept an eye on him for all these years. Margaret Verdi has been Iwan’s protector since he was a teenager, she probably knew more about him than his mother.
“You are too. Why’s that?” Iwan asked in a sullen tone. He looked disheveled, miserable, tormented by shadows that only he could see.
“You know why. I’ll always be where you are. After what happened to Lauren, I was sure you will not return to Florence. You cannot leave Ava by herself and neither can I leave you.” Margaret replied, coming to him, hoping that as she approached, his face will look brighter, more alive. But it was exactly the opposite. “Come here, boy,” she said, opening her arms for him.
It was not a surprise for either of them that Iwan gladly accepted her kindness. He started to cry now that he felt safe, his sobs so loud and frequent, like a child. Margaret sighed as she caressed his hair softly, her heart breaking at how this man was still so entrapped in his childhood.
On the other side of London was another troubled soul. Ava went straight home, her expression hard to read but her eyes were swollen. They took different cabs since it would have cost a fortune to go from one side of the city to the other and yet that was not why Ava chose to leave by herself. It felt as if somebody was pushing her more and more towards the edge of the cliff. Her sanity was crumbling at the feet of little Ava who had to endure so much, so early in her life. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t hurt them anymore because he could hurt others—many others.
As soon as she arrived in her apartment, she opened the curtains and the windows and closed her eyes while standing there, taking in the environment. London was busy and noisy but all Ava could hear was Monteverdi’s Lament of the Nymph. She grasped onto the railing as she remembered where she first heard it.
On the day before their official discharge from the hospital, there was this special event for children that took music therapy, among which Ava, Lauren, and Iwan. It was at the very beginning of their real torment, the one they never had the strength to confront, and decided to bury all those memories and experiences in the very back of their mind, or at least Ava did.
The guests were students from a music college and they were indeed very talented. That was the first time Ava heard about Monteverdi and learned of his work and his life. It didn’t resonate with her that much but it did with Lauren. The two girls were standing next to each other, with little doll-like Lauren grasping tightly onto Ava’s arm, hiding slightly behind her. When the guests started their interpretation of Lamento Della Ninfa, the atmosphere suddenly changed.
Lauren was the youngest of the three kidnapped children, she was also feeling guilty about it because the others had to go through a lot of bad things just to protect her. Iwan was Lauren’s hero and Ava was her shield but listening to that lament, she felt her soul tremble. It spoke to her, although it had different meanings.
Ava was surprised to feel Lauren let go of her hand and approach the performers. She couldn’t see it from behind, she could only notice the shake of Lauren’s shoulders, but she knew. That was Lauren’s lament.
Ava opened her eyes and closed the window, as well as the lament in her ears. She glanced at her room, entered, and went for her nightstand. She opened it slowly and there it was: her .22 calibre gun, small enough to hide in her purse or pocket. And yet she closed it in a hurry.
“I cannot,” she whispered, surprised that she even took that into consideration. But her eyes remained on the nightstand and the idea lingered in her mind.
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