"Where did you come from, Rhea?"
Rhea turned hearing someone calling her. It was a black boy with very mesmerizing green eyes and a very tall boy with pale skin and matching gray hair and eyes.
Whenever she met someone, she noticed their appearance and facial expressions first, so she could take a mental note of what kind of person they were. It was not hard for her to read a person just by looking at them.
"Home," she said.
"No, I mean, I was looking out the window, but I did not see you coming in."
"Probably because you were looking in the wrong direction," Rhea said.
"The two of us were looking out. How could we miss you coming in?"
"Were you looking for me?" she asked, without answering.
"I asked you first," Verdell said. Hugo could not point out exactly why, but he did not like the way Verdell was talking to her.
"Stop…"
"But I am not obliged to answer you just because you asked," Rhea said sharply even before Hugo could finish. "Anyway, good night to you two."
She left so quickly that it felt like she vanished into thin air. She looked very carefree as she walked with her hands moving freely by her side. She held her backpack in one hand and kept swinging it in the air, matching the rhythm of her steps.
Hugo could only stare.
Rhea walked through the forest, all alone, carefreely. She looked around a few times to make sure no one was following her. She did not like the detective's son, mostly because he always tried to bring her down for no reason. She had heard him talk behind her back a lot of times. Although she did not mind being hated, she minded being bothered by the constant whispers whenever he was near his friends.
She had seen Verdell and Hugo looking out the window. Just to freak them out a bit, she took the other path. She was a master at not making any noise. It was no problem for her to walk in the shadows like a rat.
She also noticed them hearing their conversation. She was quite sensitive to noise. Even if it was just someone's breathing in a crowded room, she could distinguish one from another.
As she took the path illuminated by the moon, her mind kept playing the detective's words like a tape recorder.
"If I love my mother, do I need to visit the hospital? If I visit, will she wake up?" she muttered. "She won't. She won't wake up even if I cry, not that I can cry right away."
Rhea was a person who liked to show her love for others by solving their problems or by being of help to them. She chose that path because she was good at solving problems, but she was not good at giving someone emotional support.
For her mother, she wanted to find out what her mother would have liked to know. Or, maybe, her mother knew but was not in a position to say so.
Rhea returned to her home and closed the door securely. She checked all the windows. There was rarely any news of any theft, but Rhea always felt insecure and kept all the windows shut when she was alone except the window of her room.
Ronan was with her girlfriend. Ronan was not in a good mood because of their mother's unfortunate condition, so Rose took him out to cheer him up. Rhea enjoyed the alone time rather well. She preferred to be alone as it gave her the peace of mind that she craved.
She put her backpack on her bed and drew her curtains quickly. Opening her backpack, she took out a brown leather diary. It was covered in stickers. It made her groan in disgust. Who decorated their diary in such a repulsive way?
She did not take her gloves off as she opened the diary. The front page read the name 'Mary Frost'.
"Mary Frost…," Rhea read.
Mary Frost had been her therapist for four years. She used to throw a tantrum about her memory loss which led her mother to take her to the therapist. The therapist never told her or her family as she did not have any valid proof, but it was just her hunch; Rhea had seen Dr. Frost writing in her note that she was a psychopath.
At that time, Rhea did not understand how a psychiatrist relied on her hunch, but not actual logic. It took her a while to figure out that humans tended to rely on their gut feeling more than logic. A psychiatrist was no exception to that rule.
She had seen Dr. Frost for the last time two days ago. It was the same day she got her cat Silence. Her brother rushed her to Dr. Frost even though she barely made any expression and said repeatedly that she was alright. Ronan thought Rhea was in such shock that she could not talk, completely forgetting that Rhea was like a mute person when she was not.
Rhea sighed and went through Dr. Frost's diary. Recalling each of their sessions which were like torture. She hated every part of it. Dr. Frost always asked too many questions and never did what Rhea asked her to do.
Two hours later, she realized why the detective was acting that way to her. It was all because of that crazy psychiatrist who died and also got Rhea into unnecessary trouble.
Even Rhea, whose heart was said to be colder than ice by her grandmother, got goosebumps as she stared at the rough sketch of herself sitting in Dr. Frost's office, wearing her black hoodie and looking dead. If Rhea's remembered correctly, that was how she went to Dr. Frost for the first time.
Rhea read the other lines one by one, turning the pages slowly.
She creeps me out. I don't understand her. It is the first time I am seeing such a patient. Her eyes always look so dead. I am scared. But I cannot just say no, because I am afraid if I refuse, she will kill me.
Then, there were details about what part of her creeped her out. Although Rhea knew she perhaps creeped people out because her eyes never looked alive, it was fun to read it from another person's perspective. She enjoyed it thoroughly.
After she was done reading, she scanned those pages and printed copies. All the while, she had her gloves on.
Silence meowed from her bed. "Oh, are you hungry, baby? Let me just… I will get your food now."
Probably cats were the only things she was ready to die for.