Sol

by Apolonia Ambrosius

  Something in Sol’s chest started to clench, plunging her physical and mental state into severe discomfort. She closed her eyes, not knowing how to offer a reply. Almost like she suddenly forgot how to even speak.

  ‘We are always there for them and try to help them as much as we can, but this girl can be so stubborn sometimes,’ he smiled at this while looking past Sol, into the backyard, and added, ‘she keeps saying I’ll do it myself.’

  A moment of gravely silence filled the surrounding space, while Sol tried to imagine if she would be able to get out of hell they both saw. In comparison to them, she was having a blissful childhood. Processing what her newly gained friend in front of her just told her, exposing her their vulnerable side, she couldn't wrap her head around reason how things like these even happened in the world. What else was taking place behind the scene of every family, person, or mind? To what extent was a human being able to camouflage their insanity with a passing grade in the average world?

  It was half an hour until the midnight, when the car engine was being heard again, announcing the much anticipated return, of three youths whose freshly made imagery was still unknown. In their earlier discussion, Sol and the guys decided to carry on with their celebration, even if it seemed pretentious. The cruelest thing from their behalf would be for Min, Hell, and Lion to walk into the dead silence house, witnessing pale faces filled with worry and anxiety. Considering it was still a New Year’s Eve that was probably the smallest gift they could offer.

  Sol’s slightly escalated heartbeat, due to flowing alcohol in her bloodstream, speed up even further, as she saw all three of them in the backyard, visibly shaken.

  What have they seen and how painful has it been for Min, and the boy? He was still so very young, yet so strong, thought Sol as she distanced herself from the superficial conversation other guys created, in order to suppress any distress their friends faced, in the hours of their unexpected absence.

  Maybe it was because of their collective intention towards peaceful passing of midnight, or perhaps, their bond was so full of strength, that they easily sailed trough the stormy night without a hint of awkwardness. To Sol it was one of the most remarkable sceneries she ever saw. Brother and sister whose hearts have been shattered and four friends who stood by them no matter how strong the wind blew, were gathered together, like being protected by invisible membrane immune to any outside turmoil. They really were there, by their sides, and this time Sol also slipped inside of the golden circle, laughing and feeling the underlying suffering.

  As they watched fireworks from the upper balcony, Sol noticed that Min and Hell were gone. She discretely walked away from the glowing lights on the cold night sky, to find two siblings sorting out something rather important in the guest room. The door was opened only an inch or so, but definitely enough for anyone who passed by to overhear their conversation.

  ‘Pack your stuff, tomorrow we leave,’ commanded Min, when a zipper has been undone and something stubborn tugged inside. This left Sol with no other option to consider except her infamous butterfly knife, she also now owned.

  ‘What about him?’ asked the boy.

  ‘Dad? I’ve taken care of it, don't you worry.’

  Temperature drastically mixed up in Sol’s body, cold sweat building on her back.

  What did she meant? Did she commit something unspeakable, irreversible?

  Sol tried beating the dark thoughts out of her mind, abandoning them forever, but the instinct told her something close indeed took place.

  Did she perhaps pull her red card?

  Something of great terror and guilt started to escape the guest room, hitting her right in the heart where it hurt the most.

  Did she done something to their father? Did she, killed him?

  A gruesome voice echoed in Sol’s head, making her incapable of moving away from the door. She envisioned her own father reading books, fishing in the lake behind their house, and smiling when his daughter followed his steps, or offered him a new perspective he never heard of before.

  ‘I could never kill my father,’ muttered Sol with faintest audible voice, but immediately covered her mouth to not be heard, like a small child caught in a lie.

  ‘And Sol?’ asked the boy, making Sol sober up in an instant.

  ‘She doesn't need us anymore. She’s gotten stronger.’

  Eventually everyone came downstairs, meeting for another celebratory toast, pretending everything was jolly when for the first time Sol saw Min and Hell having underlying intentions.

  When one of the guys humorously asked about their New Years resolutions, Min waved her hand saying ‘I don't want to change anything. So no resolutions for me.’

  Needless to say Sol knew they were deliberately hiding the truth and wanting to get away, possibly never returning again.

  The intense phone ringing bombarded Sol’s hangover, and she barely managed to drag herself across the house to the television, where phone displayed another call from her mother. Both of her parents were interchangeably wishing her all the best in the New Year, as well as describing her their midnight fireworks and an incident of her mother almost burning roast-beef. The sun was brightly shining inside the room waking Sol up to the fact, that house was eerily empty and clean. As soon as the line was cut, she rushed into the guest room to be faced with even harsher emptiness.

  The room was spotless, blankets tucked in, and trough a slightly open window fresh breeze was steadily coming, pushing the stale oxygen out. She approached the window, when on the nightstand something caught her eye. It was Min’s set of keys to her house as well as a bronze flower chain, belonging to her deceased grandmother. And this was all that was left from seven people that were spending the night here, not even four hours ago.

  It was like no one ever came, like she had another long dream. And perhaps, all of this did really take place only inside of her head.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LONELY PLAY

  Days of three months worth have rolled out of the window, sweeping Sol into unfamiliar mind state of battling between feeling ultimate nothing, to feeling too much of something that is long gone. She still stayed heavily preoccupied with hiring new part-timer every two weeks, to run the flower shop as smoothly as it was possible. Sol also quickly realized no one was as skilled and fluid in movements than Min. The girl may not be the most knowledgeable in the textbook frame, but she was extremely in tune with nature’s law, as if she created these laws herself. Contrary to her words, Sol was nowhere near to being strong, at least not in the sense she understood it.

  There were countless times when she called Min’s phone number only to be faced with empty ringing, that eventually turned into unreachable number. One time she even went to the bar to meet with the guys, however their concerts were canceled until indefinite time. The option of visiting them in their basement apartment stayed out of the question. If Min was so clear in respecting their space and rules, then how much power was holding Sol’s presence in comparison to their obvious leader.

  It felt like her reality, which had started to become fuller, meaningful, faded into unconsciousness with the rest of her unorganized thoughts and nightmares.

  Sol always placed her dream world very high on her list of priorities, but throughout these empty months all she dreamed about was pure horror, sometimes even waking her up, drenched in sweat and trembling. In these dark hours she saw people she knew burning in blazing fire, crying their bleeding eyes out. All the faces were severely scarred, burned, and horrible to look at, but when she gather a little courage and face them properly, she saw her own reflection in their vacant eyes telling her to look inside.

  This was another indication how sensitive she still was and how much roughness she had to experience in life to be able to sleep soundly like the time Hell slept on the couch. He seemed without worry or fear, and yet he witnessed so much more terror than Sol could even be able to imagine. One thing was sure, the girl and the boy vanished and there was no possible pa
th that could magically take her to them. Perhaps all she really needed to look for them was only a sheer drop of strength, but that was the most difficult task for Sol. All she could do was to avert her gaze in different direction, praying for magic to happen.

  ***

  The graduation day finally took place, and while she was supposed to become freer, as she envisioned herself to be, Sol was not even content with where she stood in this life.

  If there exists another life for me, would I live it differently?

  Would I stayed home, faced Haven properly, abandoning option of ever meeting Min, the boy or make friends like Lion and his band-mates?

  Would I ever be happy?

  Sol deeply sighed while walking along her classmates, she labeled as shallow on majority of occasions. They were on the way to the newly opened coffee shop, with only ten minute walk from their school. This was more than likely to be the last encounter among them, their only real shared story being the dull high school experience.

  While rapidly approaching their decided destination, Sol quietly removed herself from her identity to observe her so-called friends more accurately. It was as if she had a dissociation experience, and for some reason this strangely made her think in a different perspective from her usual slightly grim self. Suddenly she could see that the pretentious bonds she formed with the three young girls were more than that.

  They were endowed with fakery to the last grain, however that was only as far as her side was seeing. What if they genuinely cherished her company and what if she was deliberately excluding them from their life, by labeling them as shallow, uninteresting human beings, just to not be confronted with her own sets of insecurities and past actions she wanted to forget so badly.

  What if this gift, she supposedly received at the day of her death, was actually a lie in itself? What if she misinterpreted the meaning of not knowing anything, not having a proper knowledge about anything, wasn't in fact about the people around her but was only implied on her self – her hidden inside? What if the whole purpose of somehow knowing others underlying intentions was to only look closely inside of her being and discover something forgotten, forbidden, perhaps new? Then a question came and she was unable to answer it.

  What are my underlying intentions?

  The café was endowed with dark wooden textures, but because of the many windows it made for a friendly approach towards costumers. Sol imagined that even if she came here on the rainiest of days, this coffee shop would still feel bright and comforting, and at that moment that was enough to silence out all the heavy thoughts rumbling over her head.

  They settled for the table in the very corner, wholly surrounded with glass, witnessing the end of the winter season. And as naturally as they decided for their particular spot, the conversation swung into direction of their future plans. Even if Sol tried to avoid the topic altogether, it was impossible. And considering they just graduated this was after all, meant to-be talked about.

  ‘So, to which college will you enroll to?’ curiously asked Saint, looking straight into Sol who was bathing in the center on the sunlight, right across the table.

  ‘I still don't know,’ replied Sol, her eyes squinting, making it harder to face the girl properly. She swirled the cream on her still hot latte with a spoon, onto which she griped way too hard. ‘Will think about it later.’

  ‘You always say that,’ nonchalantly added Lovely, after having a sip of her share of caffeine. ‘You know, the new semester will begin anytime now, and it’s best to be prepared, right?’ the last minute question was making Saint answer in a firm nod. ‘I wish I would have so many options to chose from like you.’ At this the girl looked side ways, resting her chin inside of her slender palm, her long hair touching the edge of the table.

  ‘Yeah, it’s kind of not fair for you two to always be the best in everything,’ responded Saint with a soft voice, almost making them feel guilty of something they didn't intentionally do.

  ‘You can say that to our robot, not me’ commented Sol, while looking to A.I., who was busily searching trough the menu for an order of the healthiest dessert – a rather difficult task.

  ‘But you really are smart. I’m sure you know it,’ added Lovely, with a slight smile, proceeding to drink her desired coffee.

  ‘I’m not,’ replied Sol, now holding the mug with both of her hands, intently looking the latte to consider over her next statement. ‘I only know stuff that is pretty useless in real life, which is what the school is all about.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Lovely, her eyebrows making for a confused expression.

  At that moment laughter from the neighboring table spread across their tensed air. Sol finally lifted her gaze to trace over the happy faces, belonging to art students. They were definitely a few years older, visiting a near by college perhaps. One of them rolled out a paper – an assignment of some sort – and trough the heavy sunlight and the fortunate angle, Sol saw a drawn figure. By the quick study of however long the boy held out his drawing under the sun, she could definitely make out a male statue, like the ones from Ancient Greece. This triggered an already forgotten burning sensation in her chest.

  ‘Well?’ asked the pretty girl for the second time, tone getting impatient.

  Sol looked at her scarred palm, resting in her lap, before she looked intently into her eyes, saying, ‘we spend our whole youth studying the system instead of studying ourselves.’

  ‘Perhaps you are right,’ interfered A.I., correcting her soft bangs. ‘But we do this in order to make a living. And later on, we can start focusing on ourselves. So this gained knowledge is not useless as you make it sound like.’

  ‘This later on, when does it happen actually?’ Sol clenched her palm into a fist, like she was ready to punch someone in the face if the provocation furthered. ‘When we’re seventy, eighty? And how do you know you’ll be even alive by then? I live now and not in the future.’

  ‘No, don't say these awful things,’ commented Saint, while patting her clenched fist in seemingly understanding way. This sudden act of sympathy made Sol repulsed, and she could no longer conceal her well-crafted reactions.

  ‘And what would you know? You always pretend to be kind and righteous but in actuality you only camouflage your non-existent personality,’ Sol harshly blurt.

  ‘What has gotten into you!’ sudden raise in Lovely’s voice made the boy by their table look at them. ‘And stop attacking her, she hasn't done anything to you.’

  ‘Maybe, that's the problem,’ retort Sol, while looking down at her latte again, the cream dissipating with every passing second.

  ‘Friends certainly don't say things like that!’ Attacked the prettiest girl who visibly turned into the judgmental girl, Sol saw on the night they met Min.

  ‘Were we ever really friends?’ muttered Sol. More to herself than to carry this doomed to fail conversation on.

  ‘Please don't fight,’ begged Saint in a soft voice.

  ‘We won’t I promise. We will just have a nice talk because there is something bothering me.’ Reassured Lovely by placing her hand over Saint’s almost trembling palm. Then she run her fingers trough her long hair and seriously looked at Sol, making her feel as if she were standing in for an evaluation. ‘I know your grandmother has passed away and you’ve been struggling with the store, but many people go trough hardships and they don't take it out on their friends.’

  ‘Are you perhaps meeting some strange people?’ suddenly asked A.I., correcting the placement of her slipping glasses.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve noticed that since the day you introduced us to your cousin, you seemed different. Like you drifted away.’

  Like a venomous arrow hitting her tensed body, Sol paused for a moment to gather her self together again. Min was without a doubt, the turning point in her new decision making, but as this fire started to spread across her body, down to the fingers on her feet, she felt more sure that this really was her true self.

 
‘We were always such good friends,’ Saint continued to fidget with her fingers that was by now obviously very hurt and confused.

  ‘You changed too much. You are not like yourself at all.’ Added Lovely, her eyes absent of any compassion, understanding, or clarity of the situation.

  ‘You know what, you are right,’ Sol answered even though the questions already stopped flowing into her direction.

  She quickly gazed towards the neighboring table that represented typical behavior of art enthusiasts, dissecting each meaning behind the creative outlet into multiple angles, and in the process forgetting were the starting point lay. However it was different for Sol, as she clearly remembered every little detail from the start of this journey.

  ‘I was not myself for the longest time but that’s finally going to change,’ she announced to three girls, devoid of words or thoughts, their only focus being her movement, which indicated to be that of leaving. ‘And maybe you should change too.’

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she didn't want to steal their time so she at least paid for their order. Because after all, this was supposed to be her self-discovery and in all honestly, no one could ever become a part of it even if she secretly wanted.

  That day, Sol graduated from one thing more than just high school: friendship.