"There it was… a world beyond our own… I'm sure of it. Blue trees, Mystical beasts and Rainbow forests…" trailed Inuwa. The anaesthetic finally did its due as his eyelids shut for the second time.
He had spent all of his remaining energy trying to explain what had happened to him. However, his current condition had only served to increase the difficulty of such a task. Although Clarissa didn't really understand all the details of what happened, she was able to grasp with complete certainty the last few words Inuwa had uttered.
'A world beyond our own'
It was the only way to explain such an event. The serrations left on his chest couldn't have been the work of a regular brown bear, as the marks dug deep and stretched far.
Still, the likelihood of it was incredibly low. While she was inclined to believe Inuwa no matter what, the sheer probability heavily discouraged her from taking it as fact.
Many factors played against such a notion from being true. Such as Inuwa's location and his state at the time. Inuwa appeared near the bottom of a cliffside in a near-death state and was luckily found by Vector, who had gone to look for a missing object.
As such, one could argue that Inuwa experienced that 'foreign' world in a half-conscious, near-death state. Still, that meant that something ought to have pushed him off the cliff– or distracted him for long enough that he didn't notice the cliff and fell.
Or so it seemed. From her point of view, it became apparent that such a story was definitely far-fetched. Just so happened to find the near-death man by the bottom of a cliffside? If anything, the story pointed more towards the idea that Inuwa had suffered a concussion or trauma to the head after a fall.
Clarissa stared at Vector. There was a sickening thought deep within that told her that maybe, just maybe, he was responsible for what had happened. However, all of that conjecture could only be truly confirmed by Vector.
The same man that evoked such an unsettling, deja-vu-like feeling within her. Instead, she'd much prefer to remain in the nurse's room beside Inuwa. But she needed to confirm, if not for herself, but for Inuwa's sake as well, what Vector's role in the ordeal actually was.
Clutching at her chest, she winced in pain and apprehension. She was torn on whether to press Vector for the truth of the matter or to comfort the man whom she cared deeply for.
Her conscience was clouded; her thoughts became foggy. Should I help him? Should I pursue him? She shuddered slightly. Then, as if suddenly, a holy sword pierced through the shadows clouding her judgement. A voice as booming as drums spoke. It was Edgar.
"Risa. What's causing you to remain here?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "Shouldn't you be going home now? It's 5."
"Oh right… Sorry," she whispered. "It's just that… it's suspicious, isn't it?"
Edgar raised an eyebrow.
"You probably already know it but…" she trailed, trying to collect her words, "Vector's presence seems rather situational."
"How so, if I may ask?"
She looked to the side and pressed the tips of her index fingers together.
"Inuwa disappeared during the race, right? And then we're supposed to believe that he appeared near a cliffside of all places. There was a designated clear path. He wouldn't have avoided it like that…"
Hesitantly, she stared up at Edgar, trying to discern his reaction. To her relief, he nodded, saying: "You are right. He would not. Yet, according to Vector's story, he did, and then he ran off a cliff and fell, resulting in him being knocked out. This is fairly obvious, but a human cannot survive a fall of such a height, headfirst nonetheless, since he was supposedly knocked out."
With a slight alacrity to her step, Clarissa concluded: "The scratch marks show us all we needed to know. He fainted due to sustained blood loss over a long period of time! So, Vector's story was a lie!" She exclaimed, a passionate, raging flare ignited in her eyes. However, suddenly it was washed over and replaced with timidness, as if asking for a parent's permission for a purchase. She was also occasionally glancing at and tinkering with something on her phone, as if she had some sort of plan in mind.
"I think I'm going to confront him." She uttered, her voice low, "I have to follow him; I need to know. I need to know why he'd lie, so don't stop me. Please."
Edgar lurched; his eyes glimmered with a twitch for just a second.
"I advise that you refrain." He said robotically. Clarissa's eyes widened.
"W-w-why not?!"
"I don't. I don't trust him. I-I don't trust leaving you with him." He had dropped the formal manner of speaking and instead floundered to a low tone.
"O-oh. But someone has to check him. I really do think I'm the perfect person for that; he won't suspect someone like me at all." She beamed.
"Still." His brows furrowed, and he looked to the side while clutching his forearm.
"Please, Edgar. Please trust me. We've been friends for so long; I'm only asking you for this one time." Her lips uncurled, and her tone grew dire.
He gasped. "Y-You! Why would you test our bond for something as inconsequential as this?!"
"I'm going." She said, shutting him down fiercely, "I have to help Inuwa and figure this out."
She stormed off, turning her back towards the stunned Edgar. As she disappeared into the hallway, Edgar looked on, paralysed. Then immediately after, his eyes sharpened, his eyebrows furrowed, and he took a gulp. Before he trailed behind her at a geriatric's pace.
"That idiot!" He huffed. But before within a blink, the girl had faded into what seemed to be nothing. Exasperated, he put one hand in his pocket and stroked his chin with the other, looking to the side as he did so.
The hallways seemed endless, the same rush and flurry of doors dotted about randomly. It was all so aggravating. She wasn't fast; she knew that better than everyone, and she didn't have the best sense of distance or direction, so she was prone to messing up and being clumsy. But she was good at studying and learning, and over the years her ability had helped her clutch the rarest of opportunities. That was why. That was why...!
She ran as she was taken back to memories resurfacing from 7 years ago. Back to a time when her worries threatened to boil over and plunge her into the depths of the deepest, darkest caverns.
The hallways coalesced into a blur of dull greys, blacks and whites. The ceiling and floor tiles followed suit as the world flickered back. Suddenly, it morphed into grey hues and into a small room.
Dotted about the room were pieces of paper, crayons, pencils and binders. Some were stacked onto the desk, some were scattered about the bleached bed, and some were stacked on top of the wardrobe. On top of the wardrobe resided a small pink heart picture frame with what looked to be a small girl and a small boy.
Sitting on the bed appeared to be a small girl with rose blonde hair. She was wearing an oversized white shirt with a brown bear displayed grey shorts and pink slippers. However, contrasting that was her face. Her face was expressionless; her golden irises were rusted, her fingers were coated in bandages, and she clutched a small pencil in her right hand. She stared off into the walls of her sterile room. Then-
The excited rustling of paper permeated the room. A woman who appeared to be in her 30s and a man who looked slightly older emerged from the door; their faces were flushed, and their clothes disoriented as if they'd been in a hurry.
The woman wore pompous makeup with a thin red dress, and the man was dressed in all black with a blazer and a top hat to accentuate the Victorian era-esque outfit.
In the woman's hands, she clasped a bundle of papers, setting them down onto the desk. The little girl looked on in shock. Then the woman inhaled.
"Clarissa. Complete the tasks on these papers before the weekend finishes. We will be gone for that time to attend a special gathering! If we come back and see that these aren't done, then you won't be able to leave your room for a week!" The woman exclaimed. She then huffed and turned towards the exit. Then, with a small hand motion ushered the man out of the room. The man stared at the girl, then he sighed before leaving.
The girl haggardly clambered towards the desk and stared at the pile of paper, removing one sheet. She then clasped the hems of the sides of the sheet, motioning to tear it apart. But suddenly trepidation overcame her, and she stopped trying; she finally surrendered to just looking at the sheet in complete apathy. In the distance, a slew of voices rang out.
"Lara… don't you think we're being a bit too harsh on the poor girl? She's 7," Said the man abashedly. When he spoke like this, it was clear to the girl that he'd end up submitting to the whims of his wife.
"Don't speak to me like you could raise her any better! Besides–," the sound of rustling permeated, "She scored an IQ of 150! She's exceptional! That's why we need to foster that potential early!" she argued. "In fact, I think we're not being harsh enough… do you see...? She's still attached to all that frilly childlike stuff like toys and games. What she doesn't know is that those dumb childlike fixations would only serve to hamper her down the line! You as well as I know the consequences of that."
In that instant, the girl's eyes darkened. She quickly jumped into her bleached bed. Covered herself with the duvet and stared at the ceiling.
Today's work can wait, I wanna play with brother…
And the sterile ceiling stared back at her, unflinching, unwavering.
The girl then held her petite arm up and spread the digits on her hand. She turned her head to the left, peeking through the small crevice that wasn't blocked by the curtains. Beyond that lay a speckled sky of luminous yellows, greens and whites while the sky itself donned a navy hue.
Admiring the sight, the girl thought.
What would it be like... to admire such a sight with a friend?
Then finally, her eyelids grew heavy, and the world faded to black.
Daylight. That was the first thing that greeted the eyes of Clarissa. Quickly, she clambered out of her bed and out of her room. She had to brush and get her brother to help clean her hair, and then she would conduct her day in this manner: Hygiene, Study, Eat, Study, Eat and then Sleep. Then rinse and repeat.
She stretched before looking towards the door containing her brother's room. She hesitated a little- not knowing whether or not he was awake- but she knocked anyway. "Hey brother… help please," She said. Immediately, the sound of several crashes resounded, and an awkward and maligned stumbling rang. She then could hear an exclamation of the word: 'OUCH', before the door gave way. Towering over her was her big brother Davee.
Within a moment's notice, she broke out into an excited grin. Her eyes practically lit up in glee. Whether or not he was part of her day, he was always the best thing. Even if he had to deal with something similar, he always made his day for her. That's what she loved about him.
"Hey sis. Goooood morning!" He exclaimed with a gleeful smile. Clearly, he had just woken up, judging by the dishevelled clothes and bed hair. "May you do my hair?" she asked, rather formally.
"Of course, my lovely sister. Just come here," He responded. Then, while humming out a sweet tune (One that Clarissa was particularly fond of), he gently brushed her hair. The siblings engaged in this ritual for what felt like hours, basking in the warmth of each other's presence for as long as possible. However, the shadow of responsibility loomed over them like an icicle ready to crash, so consequently, Clarissa slowly stood up from her seat and then haggardly walked towards the exit of the room. She turned back timidly to look at her brother, who wore a solemn smile. Then, she trudged back to her room glumly.
Opening the door, the little girl marvelled at the sight pitifully. "I don't want to study. Do I have to do this now? I want to play like the other kids. I don't want to be alone anymore," she muttered. Shutting it behind her, she trotted over to the central table. She silently admired her study notes before plopping herself down to work.
Outside the dark room lay the summer sun and the morning blue sky, which served to stir the seeds of longing within the young girl. She then grabbed a worksheet and began to write.
Answers, answers, answers, she wrote hundreds of answers; she filled each worksheet with as many as she could, she wrote pages worth of answers, books worth of answers, kilometres worth of answers, each milestone leaving her with an even emptier and increasingly mechanical feeling.
The ceilings seemed to collapse into arrays and arrays of numbers, icons, letters. Her world became words, her words became a prison, and her prison became her home.
She would keep slaving away and away; she didn't want to face the harsh criticisms and loss anymore. That was why she pressed on, till her hands would cramp and her fingers would blister and pop. Her eyelids each weighed like buildings upon her soul. She clenched her teeth. She dug the fingernails of her left hand deep into her palm.
She had cried till she had forgotten how to cry. She had scratched till she had become bored of even that too. Now, there was nothing but the pencil and the paper. She had slept till even sleeping felt more draining than staying up.
No more…. She thought. No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, No more, NO MORE, NO MORE NO MORE.
Her breath hitched; the sky was a number. The floor was a letter. The surrounding people were shadows–
"Clarissa! What are you staring at?" interjected Davee. Unknowingly, he had freed her from the spiralling degradation of her mind.
She didn't respond.
"Is she okay?" said an unknown voice, appearing to sound similar in maturity to Davee's but had a gentle air and gravity that resembled the sun. "She seems to be staring off into the ground there…" he concluded.
"She gets like that sometimes; usually you can just snap her out of that by saying her name. It took a while this time though; no matter how hard I tried while walking, she wouldn't respond," Davee added. "Anyhow, I was wondering if we could have her meet Inuwa…?" Davee trailed off, scratching his neck. "Of course, I know how protective over him you are and all… but-"
"Sure," Anyasu replied nonchalantly.
"IT WAS THAT EASY?!" he screamed.
"The only reason I don't let you see Inuwa is that you're such a bad influence. Seriously! How did the kid even learn the word 'CRAP'?" he said, chastising Davee. Davee smiled black nervously. "Well, this time it wasn't that bad of a word; it's quite tame!" he responded cheekily.
"So, you're implying you've taught him more?!" asked Anyasu. Immediately, Davee switched into a defensive stance. The sheer sweltering heat coming from Anyasu rivalled that of the air released from an oven when opened. Sweat particles coalesced around Davee's forehead.
"COME HERE!" screamed Anyasu.
"Try to catch me first… cutie!" Davee replied, while smacking his posterior.
Lulled into a submissive silence, Anyasu quickly regained his composure, growling. Then, he launched towards Davee, and the two children ran into the inside of Anyasu's house. This unfortunately left Clarissa alone, too preoccupied with her own swirling, nauseating thoughts.
She didn't even know when Davee had dragged her out of the house, away from her studies to someone else's home. It was frightening; it was lonely. But she didn't want to go home, and that festering desire prompted the next few consequential actions to take place because a small boy had seen the desire plastered on her face.