The soul came first and then the body but how long did it all take?
Sometimes only seconds. No matter what, Elaine had to admit it was a tedious job. She wasn’t even paid for it. This was one of those things that just happened to her. Would it continue for her future? She did not know the answer to that. She knew few things about herself to begin with. She had no identity confirmed, only forged.
As the body in front of her disappeared, so did the glow of the scars from her skin. It was an intricate pattern that stretched over her limbs. Before she would’ve worried about others noticing them but now she knew. People could not see things—not the way she did.
The first time she had felt the pull, it had felt a little like dreaming. She didn’t understand why she was in a hurry or why they begged her to stop. Years later, she had seen everything. She had seen them beg, hit her, curse her —anything to escape their fate.
The dead didn’t go away peacefully. Thankfully, the reminders they left did.
The movements around her slowed down. She waited for her heartbeat to return to normal. She blinked and the world slowly returned to its natural colours. No matter the number, they were gone now, to a place of no return.
That was the fate of the cursed.
She was the one who brought that fate to life.
She had bled profusely again. She ought to dodge their attacks next time. Even her darkest clothes had blood stains that were hard to remove now.
All she wanted was to remove her clothes and take a warm shower.
Elaine sighed.
And there he was, lying on the ground. She blinked.
It wasn't possible. The cursed did not leave anything behind. She stepped closer to him. It was dark. She bent to get a closer look. It was a boy with dark curly hair. He seemed young. His clothes were barely there, darkened soot covered his body. His skin was pale and red. She was confused. Her light had never hurt humans.
Elaine placed her palm on his chest. He was cold. A moment later, she could feel a faint heartbeat. What was he?
She sat next to him. She had nothing on herself - water or ointment. She could only wait for him to wake up - if he did wake up.
Her eyes caught the shimmer next to him. She picked up the circular object next to the boy, it glowed in her hand, and carved on it was a script that felt familiar to her. Where had she seen this before? She turned it around in her hand and saw the smooth surface on the other side with nothing but a balance of scales carved.
This sign, she surely had seen before. She placed her fingers on top of it.
Someone snatched it out of her hand.
Elaine stood up. She could feel her heart in her throat. His lips were pressed together in a fine line. He had a straight nose and a set jaw. His dark eyes were wild. She tried to calm her mind. The boy stood up. He was bare, the tattered clothes fell to his feet.
He stared at her. She didn't look away. His gaze was not fixed on her face but above it.
Elaine was perplexed. He was strange. Stranger than any creature she had ever met.
"It's rude to take something that's not yours," The boy said. His fingers clasped onto the circular disk.
Rude, a word she heard daily.
The boy blinked. His eyelashes were heavy.
Elaine scanned him from his head to the toe. He seemed like a normal boy -- at least as the ones she had seen before. She couldn't understand what was different about him.
The boy sensed her gaze. His lack of clothes spread a crimson red, on the tips of his ears and cheeks. He frantically tried to cover himself but found nothing.
"Stop looking," He shouted.
Elaine blinked. He was a boy. They all were louder than she liked. She looked away.
He was murmuring something to himself.
She couldn't focus on his words. Her mind was stuck on the circular disk and how it had warmed under her touch. She needed another look.
The boy had it.
"Can you uh..." He shifted. "...get me some clothes."
She stared at him.
"Please?" He added.
Elaine nodded. She removed her jacket and handed it to him. His eyes went wide in alarm. Oh yes, she had forgotten about the blood. She bit her lower lip.
"Wait here." She told him.
There wasn't a house in sight. Her house was a long walk. He probably wouldn't be able to make it.
She ran around, looking for a plastic canopy of sorts. She couldn't find anything.
At last, her eyes caught on a blanket hanging on a drying rope. She scanned her surroundings and then pulled it.
Before she knew it, she was running back to him. A part of him believed that the boy was nothing but a phantom, who would be gone once she reached. But the object, she reminded herself, that was real.
Was it? The voice asked.
To her surprise, the boy was sitting in the same place, using her jacket to cover his lap. He almost stood up when he saw her. She stepped closer to him and handed him the blanket.
The boy frowned at her. "Thanks." He said. His words did not match with his face.
She nodded.
He coughed and then covered himself with the blanket.
"Your jacket." He held it out for her.
She took it and held on to it. She didn't feel like putting it on anymore.
"What's your name?" He asked.
"Elaine." She replied.
"Well Elaine, thank you - uh for your help but..."
"What the actual fuck did you do to them?" He said.
She blinked at the profanity. She realised he was asking about the cursed.
"You can see them?" She asked.
He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.
"I asked first." He said.
She frowned. Was there an order to conversations?
When she didn't answer he sighed and continued, "Yes, I can see them."
"Now you," He said.
It was an exchange. They were all so confusing.
"That happens sometimes." She said.
The boy didn't speak.
"Sorry?" He said.
"What for?" She replied.
He was quiet. "I meant, what did you mean?"
"By what?"
"Are you trying to act smart or genuinely you're --" He paused. He was breathing heavily.
"Forgive me, I am a bit all over the place considering I almost died and all."
"You did die," Elaine said.
He blinked.
"Not almost. You were out cold." She continued as a means of explanation. "I thought I'd have to bury you."
The boy didn't respond to that.
"Would you have?" He continued, "...buried me?"
Elaine opened her mouth but he cut her off. "Don't answer that."
She tapped her foot in annoyance. So confusing.
"So Elaine," The way he said her name, carefully pronouncing every syllable, made her name foreign even to her ears.
"What's yours?"
"Sorry?" The boy rubbed the back of his neck.
"Name." She said.
"Ah," He replied.
"Rayhan." He said.
"Rayhan?"
He stared at her. For some reason, his gaze was different. She didn't know why. "Ray-han." She said, emphasising the first half. Had she said it wrong?
"The way you said it first was right," He said.
"Elaine, could I borrow your phone? Considering mine is well - gone."
"Sure." She handed it to him. "Here you go, Rayhan."
Then he laughed. The sound reverberated in her ears. She could feel it on her arms.
He looked at her face and then something made him continue, "Sorry, it's just, never heard my name in so many ways."
His fingers hovered over the screen.
"Do you not remember the number?" She asked.
"No, I remember, I'm just..." His voice trailed.
"I know it's weird but ..."
She waited for him to continue.
He shook his head, deciding against whatever he was supposed to say. He dialled the number and pressed the phone to his ear. He waited for a few seconds.
"Hello," He said to the person on the other side.
"I don't know. I found someone here."
"I'll be near the Verlain station."
"No, no I'm alone. This is just someone who found me."
"Yes, I know."
He cut the call and handed it to her.
"Thanks." He said.
"They're coming?" She said.
"Yeah," He shrugged.
"I will probably head there alone."
"Okay."
He was about to leave. She wanted to ask him about the metal object in his hands. About the reason why he was able to see them. She had so many questions.
"Well, you get home safe, Elaine." He told her.
"You too, Rayhan."
He turned around to leave. He was almost out the door when he turned around.
"The same station, Friday?" He asked.
She nodded.
Her way home was firm roads that had holes from the last rains. She had passed by a canal with a lingering foul smell she had gotten used to. When she reached her house, she removed and carried her shoes inside.
She walked through the dimly lit hallway, counting doors until finally swinging the key to the lock. Her room was small and the ceiling was low. She would reach it if she stretched a little. Even if the place was small, she was grateful for it. The streets were worse. She had used crates for her table and bed, old posters from the giveaway boxes hung on her walls, little stickers from groceries, a glass bottle filled with pebbles and metal caps and her trusty fake cactus plant. Nothing could survive in the room that never saw the sunlight -- she knew that the hard way. She placed her shoes in the plastic box and hung her coat on the wall.
She opened the door to the washroom. The paint was coming off. The water dripped from the ceiling. She turned the faucet on and washed her face. She wiped away the cold water droplets with her sleeve. Her body screamed for her to lie down. She decided against it. She removed her clothes and stepped underneath the shower. The water trickled down her bare skin. Everywhere it touched, it hurt.
It would be all over soon. She reminded herself. The pain, the voices, the blood caked beneath her fingernails. It would all wash away and tomorrow would be a new day.
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