Helen and Vivian slept at the Buddhism house that night. The next morning, Vivian took Helen to Los Angeles to visit her family. And they met Vivian’s mother on the bed of sickness. Her mother cried happily for seeing her lost child and had said, “I have no reason to die since God had answers my prayers. Bring me food. Bring me the drug.”
Los Angeles had been sweet for Vivian, but the two felt uneasy as they slept there for two days. The uneasy feeling was because John called Helen via phone on the first night. Vivian told her John might have known where they were through tracking. And she told her to ignore it, and that same night, Helen received a text from John. He warned her to come home if she didn’t want to put the life of Vivian’s family in danger. Back then, on the bed, on the second night. Helen received another message from him. She woke Vivia
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Arthur slides into the room expecting to hear the noise of guns, but nothing sounds. Nothing clicked. Nothing moved either. No one is here except for Chris’s dead body gushing out blood. He raised his eyebrows, widened his mouth, and can’t close it back again. His eyes filled. Chris’s body looked misty. A tear dropped, and then another. His childhood friend died for his sake. Only five words are dropping like a sharp stone from his agony mouth. “No. Can’t believe this yet.” And then, the blood of Chris moved down and stopped before him. Arthur touched it. It feels tepid, like the warm water he used to treat him on the bed, back then. Now, he believes. Chris had gone. Holding his gun tighten without looking back, he shoots two men hiding behind the fridges. He rose and yelled as the pain of losing his friend stung him within. A whisper was heard from a room. Furiously, he stormed t
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At Greenland village, North America. An old smell welcomed Arthur as he walked through the lawn of trees to the old house of his father. The house they left before John killed his parents and kidnapped his sister. The house, it seemed, it’s over forty-five years now, but it still stands. Though no one lives there except for the creepiest creatures. Lizard stood on the wall, looping its head up and down. He walked to the corridor and glanced about. The door had been rotten. It would fell if one touch it. Snakes darted out and enter a bush that surrounded the house. He stood still, unmoved, and now walked into his father’s rooms. He pushed the door, and it fell, crumbling by itself. Under the sheltered roofs, sloppy floors, and before the stinking dormer windows. He paused, watching as memories of the past played themselves in his head. Something held his gaze