Chapter 2

"Are you okay, girl?" that voice asked, cautiously. Oh boy, it was a man, an adult man. My nerves trembled on my sweaty palms and chest as I heard his footsteps coming toward me.

Bloody hell! How long has he been there? Did he hear everything I just said? The blasphemy? Oh God, This is bad, really really bad!

“Are you okay, girl?” He asked again, with less compassion this time. I wiped away those sticky tears with the back of my palms as soon as possible, and inhaled a steadying breath before I turned around.

Stay sweet, Amber.

“Uh-huh, I'm okay,” I said-- or lied, with a husky voice and bloodshot eyes. 

Great! Very convincing. 

Standing straight up there, on the doorstep, a full-grown beard man in a black mutza suit with a torch in his hand; a guardian. My inside twisted. 

"Are you sure?" He lifted his torch higher, above his head to get a better look at me. My eyes squinted, adjusting to the light. "What are you doing out here?" He asked.

“Well, I was just--," Just what? I asked myself. Sitting here while thinking about suicide? Nah. I shook off my thoughts before I actually said it and made him drag me from this very cozy ledge to the temple’s celar and lock me up with other troubled souls. 

"I was just--” my voice sounded weak, I cleared out my throat and kept my voice steady,  my brain scrambled to find the right word, “--need a place to be alone." 

Better.

"But you are not supposed to be alone,” he said, stressing the word ‘alone’, while taking a few steps closer, “especially here, in the tower." 

"I know, but I need a quiet place to think," 

"Think?" He scoffed, almost laughing with an eyebrow up, "what does a young girl need to think about?" I cringed. He is right, we just need to stay sweet and obey, thinking is not necessary. "Here, get down," he said, holding his right hand out in the air, waiting for me to take it. "I'll walk you to your home,"  he says.

I glanced at his hand, then back at my legs, watching them kicking the air one after another, before back at him without even moving an inch. O, good lord, why can’t  people just leave me alone and mind their own business? I sighed heavily. 

“Thank you, but I’m comfortable here.”

"O, C'mon girl,” he rolled his eyes, “it's not safe here. Surely you can think on somewhere less deadly.”

“I guess, but I’m good here. Also the sisters told me, I’m not supposed to be touched by a boy or Man. Unless it’s my blood. You are a guardian, you know the rules.”

“Let’s don’t make it difficult. You could slip and die. When it’s the matter of life and death, the rule doesn’t apply,” he said. I still didn’t move. 

 “Either you take my hand and get down, or I drag you down and you won’t like it when I do. Your call,” He said, acting tough, when he was clearly masking his cold sweat in the crisp autumn. I could tell from the way his Adam's apple twitched as he swallowed his own saliva and very calculated move. As if I could fall down at any moment.

“Can you let me be? Just this time? I had a really bad day.” I said, keeping my eyes low. 

“Bad day, huh?” He leaned with his elbows resting on the ledge then dropped his head down to his chest. “I guess we all had bad days. Today, I just saw a messy dead body on the border. And earlier this week a crazy girl just burned  herself alive in the temple.”

“Sorry, a girl, what?” I was almost sure I misheard him, because I thought I heard something like ‘a girl burned herself alive’, how crazy was--

“Burned herself alive.” He repeated himself emotionlessly like it was nothing new. I frozed. it took a good second before it hit me. Then my stomach flipped and twisted.

"Burned herself alive..." I hissed to myself, keeping my voice calm, even though I began to shake, and my eyes turned watery. He nodded. And I--, I think I've got a heart attack, because then I started hyperventilating and my chest felt like It has been punched really hard. 

“Are you okay, girl? You don’t look good,” I could hear panic in his voice. But then before I could I say anything, I started to laugh like a drain. Crazy evil kind of laugh.

"That crazy girl--,” my voice broke, sobbing and laughing at the same time, “--the crazy girl you are talking about is my best friend.” At this point I was a total mess. And I felt bad for him because even in the dark night, I could see his face turned white. It wasn’t my intention, but just stunned a grown-ass man speechless. A girl, sobbing alone on the ledge of the highest tower just after her best friend burned herself. God knew what kind of hell was happening in his mind right now. 

“I buried her body today, but didn’t get a chance to see her face for the last time.The coffin was nailed dead. And now you mention she--,” I choked, unable to finish my sentence. 

A burnt body could be very revolting. The awful, acrid odor from melted skin and burnt liver. If it wasn’t Sam, I might have gaged and felt sick just from imagining it. But it was Sam, so I glanced at him with burning eyes, then slowly lowered my head. I chuckled with unfamiliar stings in my chest. Like heartburn. 

Keep sweet, Amber. Don’t let him see.

 “I still can't believe that she is dead.” Yet words kept flowing out of my mouth, that wasn’t a good idea. A girl shouldn’t talk much with a boy or gentleman. “They might think ye are asking for their attention, be careful, girls,” Sister Elise once said. But I can’t help it. “It feels unreal, you know? A moment she was with me, and then she was gone, just like that. She killed herself, they said. They didn’t tell me how, I thought she might have drunk some poison, or starved herself to death like other women usually do--, but burned herself alive?” I chuckled bitterly before it turned into a mess sob, “I can’t--, I just can’t.” 

I couldn’t imagine the hell that she had been through. What the hell was she thinking? There was a moment of silence between us before he came closer then gently rested his hand over mine. I flinched. He reached for my chin, tilted his head toward me then looked me in the eyes. I frozed. Oh, Lord! He touched me! A MAN TOUCHED ME! OH, GOD! OH, GOD! I panicked. I’d be doomed, I thought,

“Shh, it’s okay.” His words were full of compassion, as if he could feel my sorrow, different from the tough man 5 minutes ago. “if you need to talk, I’ll listen. If you need a good cry, then cry, I’ll give you a shoulder. If you need to take out your anger, you can hit me. But please get down. You could fall down, " And his words wrapped me like a warm blanket. I was not really sure how I’m feeling, an adult trying to talk me through instead of just drag me down to the temple, and hand me to one of those sisters. It’s just--, I didn’t know, and I don’t know.

“Here, take my hand.” His voice was despondent. I nodded. By that time, I didn’t care anymore about whether I shouldn’t touch him. He offered me kindness and I accepted it. 

He gripped my hand then secured his other hand on my waist when I secured my other hand on his broad shoulder for support. Then he pulled me to the other side of the ledge all together. I could see he visibly let out a rush of air and flexed his muscles as he set me on the cold stone floor as if he were holding it all this time. Only then I realized how tense he was.

Later that night, we sat together side by side, with our back against a half-wall. Talking. I told him how I met Sam, and how I had always admired her beautiful free-spirit, I dream to be just like her when I grow up, And how I resented her for leaving me alone in this world. And all those times he was just sitting there, listening to me patiently, with occasional hums at the right time.

I didn’t know why I told him all of that, but again, there were so many things I didn't know, I was young and stupid. It’s just there were so many words piling up in the back of my throat, urging to be spat out, right here and now. And it was flowing out without control, but I guess I just needed to let out all the things that have pend up inside me far too long, in a much better way, better than a blasphemy and accusing God, at least. So that I could let it go without needing to loathe myself afterwards. Because, c’mon, blasphemy? Sure my mother didn’t raise me to be a shameless sinner.

And he was so kind to listen to me without even brushing it off with, "it's just your feeling," "you don't need to understand," “you will understand better when you are older,” “it’s not what it seems like,” "there is so much worse than that," or the worst of all, "you are tired, child, go to thy chamber."

I liked that this gentleman didn’t tell me that ‘I was tired’ just to shut me up.

To think about it, maybe this gentleman was the only adult who didn't shut me up. And when I was done, he kindly explained to me that, "the discomfort you are feeling is grief, and it's a price of love. The more you love someone, the higher the price, and the weaker you are--,”he paused for the impact then took a long deep breath before he stroked my black bonnet over my head gently. Like you would to a child. But I guess I was STILL  a child to him. 

“It’s only natural that you feel like dying inside. You seem to love this Sam a lot. Like A LOT. Losing her must feel like--”

"--losing a part of my body." I wheezed

"A part of your body, huh?" His lips twitched, I’m not sure if he was trying to not smile or frown. Nevertheless I nodded.

Then he shook his head with a bitter smile on his face. He then told me about his father, he died years ago, apparently some kind of those nasty infectious diseases got him when he was transporting some supplies we can’t produce in the New Eden from other bubbles. It was a long, excruciating death and nobody was allowed to see him. Not even his beloved son and wife.

“I was only 12 at that time and the last thing I told him was I hated him. I have never been the same again ever since. I didn’t just lose a part of my body, I lost ME,” he said with a soft husky voice.

Good Lord! I wasn’t prepared for that, I guess Sister Cecilia was right when he said so many people have it worse than I do. 

"I'm so sorry," I muttered. He gave his head a slight shake, "no. That's alright," he said, "it’s been long ago. I don't even remember how it felt anymore. Sometimes--," he paused, wetted his lower lips and throat before he finally said, "just sometimes, it's the loss of someone that makes you complete. Tainted, but complete." His gaze drifted away, as he was talking to himself, not me. Then again, there was a  silence between us, but this time it wasn't an awkward dead silence. It's more like a comfortable I-feel-you kind of silence, until he broke it and said, "just give yourself some time, girls. It will get better, trust me."

"And how if it doesn't?" my voice was flatter.

He grinned and nudged at me, "then give yourself some more time. You might feel like a part inside you is dying now, I did too. But believe me when I said it won't last forever."

"Did it ever go away?" I asked. He let out a short breath and then brought his hand to his neck, rubbing it. "Not completely," the corner of his lips twitched. I'm not sure if he was trying to not smile or frown. "But, it gets better, smaller, and easier to manage," 

“Good to know,” I said. We sat there in another silence, before he finally stood up and said, "well, girl, I gotta go. I supposed to be patrolling, for--," his voice flat, "you know," he shrugged.

"I know, thank you for being here, go." I nudged at him with a sad smile that he has to go, but I understand that he has to go, and that's okay. 

"Do you want me to walk you home?" He offered. "Um-um," I shook my head lightly then said, "thank you, I would like to be here a little longer."

He stared at me for a while, with disagreement written all over his face. After a good minute, he opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but then he clapped it shut again before he slightly nodded. "I have to go," 

“Okay, go. I’ll be fine.”  For a while he looked hesitant, but then he sighed then decided to go. And I sat there, sitting silently staring at his back. it was about 10 steps before he finally turned around.

"Are you sure? It's not so safe here, and it's late and I have to go now," he said. I was almost laughing. "I'm sure."

"Well, don't stay too long, and when you leave, just walk around the tower to the temple, say that you fell asleep crying for your friend and when you woke up it's already dark."

"But--"

"Unless you want some fresh canning, listen to me and do as I said. Those sisters will believe you since she was your friend, they will assign a guardian to walk you home," he cut me off.

"Can't I just run into a guardian and ask them to walk me home?"

"No! You have to go to the sister first, that way you can be sure they will walk you straight home with no detour." I didn't know why but he sounded somehow unsettling and a bit overbearing. But I knew I didn't want to get in trouble, and my guts told me that I would if I didn't listen. So I nodded and said, "okay, I will, thank you." 

"Good girl, I really have to go now," he said. It has been the third time he said that. I tilted my head at him and drew my eyebrow together, trying my best to not burst into laughter.

"Then why are you still here?" I scoffed, failed to keep my poker face. Then he chuckled, knowingly. 

"Well, take care, then, sweetie," he gave me a peek at my cheek and walked away leaving me barely breathing. For a moment I freezed. I didn't know how to respond, no man has ever touched me or called me like that. No one, but Sam--, but to be fair, Sam is not a man. And yet somehow for a moment I think I saw her face on him. 

When I did finally snap out of it, that man had reached the door frame, and only then did I realize that this entire time, I didn't even know his name. So before that nameless angel disappeared behind that door, I took a deep breath and yelled, "Hey, Sir! What's your name?!"