ARIA
What came next was a storm of events.
We found out that we have been featured on the news a couple of times and now the townspeople have begun calling us alive as a
sign of a miracle.
The hospital and the police department refused to let us out until they are fully sure that nothing is amiss. The doctors were all gobsmacked of how fast my body was recovering than the others and they all muttered my current being as unusual.
My friends' parents also made an effort to ask how I was doing—which was a relief on my part, since I'm well aware that I am partially at fault for how their children ended up as they were, all in bad shape. The way Aunt Daisy cried over Austin's situation made me feel extremely guilty and I was so emotionally damaged for days that I couldn't meet eyes with my friends and their families.
As a result of that, the nightmares that were all manageable from before the incident had been fueled by my negative emotions and guilt that I always dreamed of monsters clad in black and armed with brutally sharp claws and canines. In my dreams, I was always running, always being chased.
One time, I woke up screaming in the middle of the night and I bothered everyone in the room. Despite the looks of concern in my friends' faces, I insisted on moving to a separate room for some privacy. There were too many reasons in that room that would only amplify the horror in my mind.
Another essential thing that bothered me most was the unusual disappearance of my sister, both physically and in everyone's memories. Even my friends seem to quickly forget about the concern and her being existent even after I remind them every few minutes. I also wondered why I was the only one who remembered her without forgetting her every once in a while.
Because of my peculiar capability of speedy recovery, I was first to be released. Me and my mother packed our belongings and left the hospital after a brief farewell to my friends and their families. Teagan kept glancing my way, wondering why I was so withdrawn and barely talked the whole time—which she muttered was unlike me. Carter and Austin also definitely noticed—they kept trying to meet my gaze and trying to ask what was wrong.
But I left the room with only a short nod.
On the short drive back to our house, I watched the passing establishments—noticing quite a number of posters and newspapers with our faces on walls, benches and pop-up stalls. People who were familiar with our car began whispering and pointing in our direction.
At that time, I only made sure I open the window until we pass by the neighborhood and reach the road where we are greeted with nothing by trees, mist and silence.
The location of our house was a bit isolated from the busy streets of the small town. It seemed like our ancestors, who used to live here, found it was a good idea to live away from the chaos and spend their days peacefully. Our home was rather large, a three-floored building including the basement. Five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a storage room, my father's study. The living room and the dining room alongside the kitchen were divided by a hallway with a staircase leading to the second floor---and that will be the first thing you'll see once you enter through the main door.
The isolation of the location was one of the perks I enjoyed very much. The peace is much appreciated as it serves a wonderful environment whenever I'm reading or writing novels, besides spending some well-spent time for myself to just relax or do some crazy experiment without bothering a neighbor besides my mother.
But now, though I still liked it, it was for all the wrong reasons.
As Mom jiggled the keys on the doorknob, I walked around our yard for a bit. While my head was overflowing with thoughts, I managed to properly process that what I'm currently looking at right now was Liv's own little garden.
She always loved flowers, even when she could barely walk—especially roses, pink ones preferably. Livia thought she could do herself a favor and decorate our backyard with them. It didn't go very well for a while, but she did it. Among the three of us, Livia always had the gentlest hands.
I also tried gardening, once and twice, and the plants always dried up and die for some reason. At that time, I was always messing with chemicals in the barn, so I thought I had a bit of it in my hands when I was planting, thus the cause of its unfortunate demise. A couple of months later told me that wasn't the case.
However, I do have a strange affinity for attracting butterflies. All sorts of them. There was one time when Liv scolded me for having too many of them insects in the yard and was beginning to destroy her flowers. We fixed the problem by inviting pest terminators to spray or smoke the backyard. But I was still a little bit sad about it at the time.
"Aria?" My mother's voice broke through my thoughts. My head spun in her direction, "Yeah?"
She slowly creeped out of the door, looking at me with a scared and worried look in her face. "Oh my god, are you okay?"
Now it was my turn to feel confused, "I'm fine, thanks. Why are you being weird?"
She pointed towards me again. Completely confused, I returned my attention to myself. My eyes widened with shock at what I was seeing. There were like hundreds of butterflies all around me, some perched on my body. And they were all the kinds with the black and red wings.
I blinked in amazement, moving one of my arms closer to inspect a few butterflies that sat there on my skin. Their wings glowed like blood, curiously I didn't feel afraid or nervous or anything, I just stood there like the whole thing was nothing—like it was normal.
"Do you need me to call the terminators again?" Mom shrieked, flailing her arms around to swat butterflies as she went for me. I couldn't even imagine how she saw this scene. I think she thought I was getting eaten or something.
I waved my hand in dismissal, the butterflies scattered like they understood my command. "No, it's okay Mom. No need to call pest control."
"Are you sure? Cause this is not the first time something like this happened."
An idea occurred to me, "Not the first time? What happened back then?"
"I don't know. I think we were gardening and someone argued about butterflies ruining the garden. So, we called the bug killers to do the job."
"And? Who wanted to call them?"
Mom fell into silence, brows furrowed as she thinks. "Huh, that's odd. Maybe it was you, because I knew back then it was certainly not me who wanted to smoke them out. Goodness, I had the laundry out at the time!"
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and turned back to me, "Now, are you absolutely sure not to call bug exterminators?"
"Yes, I'm sure." I said, pointing towards the house. "Now, can I get some rest? I'm feeling a headache coming."
"Right, of course. Off you go, dear."
I made my way to the porch. Just as I stepped foot on the lower stairs, I paused in my tracks. "Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Who planted the flowers?"
Mom threw me a strange look, "Wasn't it you, dearest?"
I chewed on my lip. Instead of saying anything, I just nodded and went to my room.
On my way, I couldn't even make myself look at the blush-colored door across from my bedroom. I wasn't sure if I could take it if one time, I opened it and there was no Liv nor any sign of her anywhere. I couldn't even muster the courage to go around the house and look at the family photos above the fireplace. I was a hundred percent sure that if I saw just the two of us–I just...I couldn't stomach the thought. I was this close to having a complete breakdown. And that is something I couldn't afford to happen.
Not right now.