That's not all that happened that night, though. Not too far from the scene, Siako had decided to grab a doughnut before heading to the confide of his home, and as he collected his treat and thanked Ms. Cindy, the baker, for her warm service, pun intended. He pushed through the door, pulling out his phone and snapping a selfie by the bakery's sign. But through his camera, he froze, a black van sat parked behind him.
His father's goons
Before they could make the move, he bolted. He ran through alleyways. Hopping fences, his heart pounding in his chest. His lungs burnt, but he pushed himself harder. Desperate to lose them, he finally manages to shake them near the cemetery
What a coincidence, he thought. He told himself he'd never set foot in this place again, yet here he was staring at the gates that looked like hells; maybe God had other plans. He went in and leaned against a gravestone, trying to catch his breath and think through his next move.And then his phone pinned a message from his father
Keep running; you can't escape for long and while you're there, pay her a visit
He ignored it; he didn't reply; no need to follow his orders. But he was probably right. The walls were closing in, and Siako couldn't keep running forever. It was time to face his fate. He approached her grave. The weight of it all hit him like a fucking fright train; his throat thightened and tears welled up in his eyes
"Hey baby," he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "I miss you."
But his tears were not greater than those of Liams, who was now posted next to Rhyfel as they reminisced about what happened the night before. Just after Liam passed out in the middle of the road.
Liam was in the dark; images flooded his mind like a damn broke free, shadows twisted into familiar faces. A boy confessing to his father his deepest sin: "I slept with a man." A girl betrayed by her own mother. "Use her own blood" and a boy with a growing influence. "You are now a Kingdom citizen."
When his eyes opened, day had already broken. The sky was blood orange with a tint of yellow. It was the most beautiful thing. You've ever seen, for a moment there he thought that just maybe, maybe he was in heaven. But how stupid could he be? If he were to end up anywhere, it would definitely not be Wonderland. He picked himself up and ran back into the daylight shadow as he couldn't get caught.
He stayed hidden in the shadows, sprinting through the woods behind his neighbour's house and his, passing the scene of the crime he had committed. if he were stupid, he would have gone inside to see his mother. He wasn't stupid, right? He's not stupid. "Hey, mama," he went inside.
"Liam?" he watched as the joy returned in his mother's eyes, the moment her son was finally home. Her heartbeat quickened, the last of her children, her flesh and blood, standing before her. Her perfect little boy. She reached out, as if afraid Liam might disappear; he could feel the weight of her love—heavy, desperate, but warm. For a second, even I almost believed it myself.
There was pure horror in her eyes. The fear tightened her figure. This wasn't her son; it's a hallucination, an abomination. Standing before her was something wrong, something twisted; he wasn't her child, he couldn't be; he killed himself. "You're not my son." Her words hit him in the face. "Get out of my house, get out."
His own mother had just disowned him. So he ran back into the streets. It's hard pounding desperate. He didn't know what to do or where to go. The wealth that like it was probably around him, so he had to do one place, have many found peace even if it was a lie.
In the town square, he knocked over an old man's trolley. He ran past the bakery. The playground and the barbershop. He didn't want to be noticed, so he hid in the alley next to the church and climbed to the top and sat above the altar. And watched as the place flooded with people from different walks of life? He called them the Great Book Club. Maybe one of their storytellers could help him.
The day passes, as it always did in any church prayer, testimony, songs, and the reading of their favourite book. But some things stood out that day. Well, today, Isabel's voice. It passed through everything, and for the first time he felt alive. He was alive. Though he didn't know what he shot that day, he knew it wasn't a stranger. He felt its pain and understood its grief. They were his, his own tears, his own problems. It was a reflection of his own existence. You didn't have to shoot it. All he had to do was shoot himself.
He saw his best friend walk into the church. He could only imagine what he was feeling—losing the people closest to him. From where Liam stood, he watched as the scene unfolded as Isabel's name was called.
She stood up from where she sat. tossing her hair over her shoulders like she owned the plac. Her eyes scanned for Rhyfel's, and once she found them, she gave him a wink. His horror? She dismissed it without a second thought. Liam saw when Rhyfel bolted out of the church. So he followed him and grabbed him.
In the church, Isabel's heart leaped in her chest, a rush of warmth flooding through her. She was elated; this was the moment she had always dreamt of. The honour to be chosen, to serve in God's name, felt like everything she had ever prayed for was coming to life. Every prayer, every praise song, every sacrifice—they had all led to this. It wasn't just a moment; it was the culmination of everything.
If you believed that you are as stupid as those people in that church. She went home that night and, of course. She thanked God so much so her parents could hear. She prayed for his glory, for giving her the chance to prove to him she was worthy of his palace. That night she tucked herself in and slept like a baby—well, at least that's what she told her parents. But before night turned into day, I could still hear Liam crying to Rhyfel.
A homeless man approached them, his voice shaking. "Uh, excuse me, young man. Can you see me?" he asked. But Liam shot him a glare and told him to buzz off; they weren't in the mood. Rhyfel, on the other hand, glanced around confused. "Who the hell are you talking to?" he asked. The man frowned. "I am right here," he pleads, but only Liam, it appeared, could see him.
"Seriously leave us alone," he yelled. the man shuffled off back onto the street. But liam couldnt help but listen to his last remarks
"Ive been dead for two years." Dead? Liam froze, glancing at Rhyfel, who seemed confused. "You're not the first to ignore me." His voice faded into the fog. Liam got up from the dirty ground to chase the man through the fog, but to his surprise, he was long gone.
Rhyfel followed after him draping his hoody over Liam's shoulder, covering his back. Liam dodged through the crowd on the street; a crowd Rhyfel seemed to walk through with ease.
Liam called to the gents at Mr. Reid's barbershop; Rhyfel just walked by without saying a word. Liam thought to himself, Sure, Rhyfel's people must have raised him better. Thats when it hit him. Could he be seeing the dead? Therefore, that means.
"Claire," he yelled, sticking his arms through a rhyfel hoody, and ran towards the cemetery.
The cemetery where Siako is now laid at top his girlfriend's grave, pointing out to stars in the distance sky. As the tears of not being able to tell—that she was right next to him and smiling—ran down his eyes.
The quiet of the moment was broken when they both heard Liam's voice calling in a distance. It left Claire thinking, Could the impossible be possible? Her brother, once alive, is now dead. That couldn't be the case; Siako could hear him too, so he was not. Siako thought the same—could the impossible be possible—his best friend, once dead now alive. That couldn't be the case, though. He shot himself.
But as he called her name, she replied. And the closer he got, the more ensync the responses became. Until she was in his arms, hugging tightly as if the world were slipping away. Liam just stood there, eye-locked to Siako's and a glance to Rhyfel, who just followed him blindly to his sister's grave.
There gazes ended in a heated argument about Liams, trigger happy moment and magical resurrections, and siako's eloud obsession with fame so much so he didnt show up to his own girlfriend's funeral and just disappeared. Who could blame him though when his own best friend blamed him for her death?
Their argument continued with Claire and Rhyfel in two different worlds, catching stray bullets. They almost had a fight, but Claire intervened the only way she could, shoving Liam to the ground, leaving Siako and Rhyfel to wonder what had happened but before they could get any further.
A flash of light exploded like a firecracker, blinding them for a second. The sound of a man whistling in his excavator cut through the night—soft but intrusive, like a broken lullaby. They all scattered, hearts pounding, lungs gasping for air.
Except for Liam. He didn't run.
He broke away from the others, heading down a path no one couldn't follow. As for the others, Claire watched, heart racing, as they stood there. a sane twisted grin on Rhyfels face, extending his hand like some kind of invitation to an unknown hell.
"Rhyfel," he said, the name hanging in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating.
Siako stopped, blood pounding in his ears, staring at him with eyes that could've sliced stone. "I know who you are," he said, his voice low and menacing, the words coming out like a growl from deep in his chest. "We all do. You're the kid with the bruises. The one who disappears. The ghost in the halls."
Rhyfels expression twisted, like Siako had slapped him across the face with the brutal truth. For a second, he looked like he might say something, but the words caught in his throat.
"Wow," he finally spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Pardon me for trying to make friends. Fuck off, Siako. You're still as uptight as I remember."
thet parted ways, there footsteps echoing in the night like the fading heartbeat of a dying man. But the ghost of that moment clung to Liam, haunting him like cobwebs, tugging at the edges of his mind. It felt like nothing was ever truly over.