Eternal Night (Skeleton Key)

by Marian Tee

  Ever’s temper snapped. “Don’t talk about my mother like that!”

  Rage turned Arisa’s cheeks a deep shade of red. “How dare you raise your voice at me?”

  Her aunt raised her hand, and the next thing Ever knew, a stinging slap landed on her face, the blow forceful enough to turn her head to the side.

  Arisa clenched her fist, telling herself that she had done what was right. She had disciplined her niece, which was her duty. To spare the rod was to spoil the child, she told herself determinedly. The Bible was on her side on this.

  When Ever raised eyes filled with pained shock to her aunt, Arisa pushed the guilt away and snapped, “You deserve that for showing such disrespect. You came to me when you were seventeen. Don’t you forget about that, you ungrateful brat. You came to me and asked for my help to pay for your father’s coffin---”

  “He was your brother,” Ever cried out.

  “He ceased being my brother,” Arisa said harshly, “the moment he chose that woman over his own flesh and blood.” Even now, she could vividly remember the humiliating silence as the town’s wealthiest family turned its back on Arisa and her parents, the consequence of her brother jilting his affianced bride in favor of a lowly woman from the wrong side of the tracks.

  She stared at Ever, the offspring born of that unwanted union, and felt hatred so deep she found herself screaming, “Get out!” When Ever didn’t move, Arisa grabbed the teapot on the bedside table and threw it at her.

  “Aunt!”

  The pot crashed against the side of Ever’s head, and burning hot liquid spilled over the side of her face.

  Horror washed over Arisa, but still she screamed, “Get out! Get out!”

  She watched Ever whirl around and run away, and a devastating sense of fear seized her for one moment.

  If Ever truly did leave---

  She would be alone.

  No one would care enough to look after her like Ever did.

  She would die alone---

  Arisa blindly reached for the phone. The pastor came to the line a few rings after, and she said desperately, “Pastor, I need your help. It’s Ever, she’s become unruly and I don’t know what to do.”

  Thoughts of the future loomed ahead of her, one where Arisa would die alone, and she began to cry.

  “You have come to the right place, my child.” As the pastor spoke, he leaned against his seat and closed his eyes.

  Ever.

  He had his eye on her for a while, but he had also forced himself to tread carefully around the girl since Arisa was also one of the church’s most generous benefactors.

  Patience was always the key, and now he was being rewarded.

  Hades and Persephone

  It was a special day on Mt. Olympus.

  Hades, the Prince of Darkness, the God of the Underworld, second only to Zeus, was to have his wedding with Lady Persephone, daughter of Demeter. The world rejoiced, and the golden and bejeweled gates were thrown open so that the festivities could be seen by humans from their mortal dwellings.

  It was a magical, magical night, with wine brewed by Dionysus himself was overflowing and the most delicious food was prepared by Demeter herself, as Goddess of the Hearth. There was also music and dancing like no other, with the Muses in attendance.

  The gods and goddesses danced, sparkling in their ethereal forms. Their eyes glowed like the most precious gems, and their skins glistened like the softest and most expensive of silks. Their steps were light and nimble, and the way they moved yet again served inspiration for countless creations of art.

  This was a day to be remembered in history, but the Fates spun their threads with a heavy heart. For they knew everything that had gone and what will be, and they did not relish what the future would hold.

  The prophecy had been given.

  But it had not been followed.

  “Perhaps we are wrong,” Clotho murmured to her sisters as she weaved the threads of Hades and Persephone together, binding them in marital union. “We are ancient and immortal, but we are not all seeing and all knowing.”

  Lachesis did not answer. The fate of the God of the Underworld and his bride did not fall under her realm of power for they were immortal like her. The length of their life threads was immeasurable.

  Atropos reached for the interwoven threads and murmured uncertainly, “Maybe.” The threads did not feel they were bound tightly enough to each other, but maybe…that was just her imagination.

  She ran her fingers over the threads one last time, and now she noticed something else.

  The threads didn’t even feel good together, she realized in stunned silence. It was like mixing lace and leather, or like the brightest shade of orange with a royal shade of purple. Both beautiful on their own, but together---

  Clotho glanced sharply at her youngest sister, whose job was to cut the threads once it was time for their souls to meet its Maker. “What is it, Atropos?”

  The youngest of the Fates shook her head. “It is nothing.” She drew her hand away. “In any case,” she murmured almost to herself, “it is not our place to interfere.”

  If the prophecy were to be fulfilled, it would be, even without their intervention.

  Walking around town was one of her few and simple pleasures in life, and over the years Ever had learned to embrace it despite its imperfection. On her way to the library, she had to walk past several posh-looking art galleries and charmingly quaint cake shops, most of which were owned or managed by people she had once gone to school with.

  Beth and Roger, once the school’s head cheerleader and team captain, were at their usual place, enjoying a cup of tea in front of their shop. They sent smiles of pity upon seeing Ever, and she pretended not to notice.

  She could feel Beth’s gaze thoroughly studying her, no doubt taking note of the threadbare quality of the hem of her skirt and the way her blouse’s collar had started to fray and curl.

  As Ever walked past the couple, she heard Beth whisper sadly to her husband, “I can’t imagine how it is to be like her.”

  Ever tightened her grip on the handles of her bag. She’s not saying anything that’s not true, she reasoned to herself. No one would really ever be able to imagine the kind of life she led until they lived it themselves…and found out how painfully tedious it was.

  She quickened her steps once she turned around the corner and was finally away from prying eyes. This was the problem of living in a small town, she thought with a sigh. Everyone knew what everyone’s business was, and if your business weren’t that, well, nice, then people would talk about it over and over.

  It had come to a point that when something bad happened, one only needed to look at Ever Carlisle and realize that life wasn’t as bad as one thought.

  At least you’re not like Ever Carlisle, who didn’t even get to finish high school.

  At least you’re not like Ever Carlisle, whose aunt treats her more like an indentured servant than her own flesh and blood.

  At least you’re not like Ever Carlisle, whose only source of entertainment came from library books – because she didn’t have enough money to even buy a used paperback.

  Ever tried not to wince as she remembered all the things that had been said in her hearing, some unintentionally, but most others deliberately so, because it made them feel better about lives.

  If only I could find a way to the Underworld, Ever thought. Life would be probably better there. Or at least life would be fair, since they had someone as honorable as Hades to rule the kingdom.

  It took ten more minutes before she reached the town’s library, a magnificent three-story structure that had the looks of a Gothic castle and had been in existence for over two hundred years.

  For a moment, she stood in front of it to simply gaze leisurely at its majestic façade, thinking that this would probably fit very well into the Underworld, too. How wonderful it would be, she thought with another sigh, to live in a place such as this.

  Most of the townsfolk believ
ed the library was haunted, more so when only Mr. Robbins and his daughter Marcia were the only ones to roam its high-ceilinged halls.

  She was about to ascend the steps leading to the library’s huge double doors when they opened themselves---

  The white-haired Mr. Robbins stepped out, and he looked just as startled when he saw Ever on his steps.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Robbins,” she said, smiling uncertainly.

  “Afternoon, Ever. I wasn’t expecting you. You usually come earlier.”

  “I was a little late finishing my chores today.” Her gaze slid to the keys he was holding. “Are you going to close early?”

  “I was planning to,” Mr. Robbins admitted. “I need to meet an old friend of mine, and Marcia’s down with a cold.”

  “Oh.” She tried her best not to sound disappointed, but she had obviously failed when the older man shook his head with a grin.

  “Don’t look so down, child. You can still go inside.”

  “But---”

  Mr. Robbins placed the keys in her hand. “Just make sure to lock up when you’re done. No need to encode the books you borrowed. Marcia or I will get the keys from you tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure, Mr. Robbins? I can always come back---”

  The old man ruffled her hair. “I wish I could do more for you, to be honest, but this unfortunately is the only thing I can do.”

  The look in Mr. Robbins’ eyes made her swallow, and her fingers closed around the library keys. “This is more than enough,” she said huskily.

  “Not really child, but thank you for saying so.” As Mr. Robbins descended the steps, he said over his shoulders, “Let’s just hope someone else will come to your rescue one day.”

  “In this town?” she asked laughingly. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Nowhere is still somewhere, child, and no place is unreachable for one like Hades, don’t you think?”

  Ever’s merry laugh made Mr. Robbins smile. What a wonderful creature this girl was, he thought, to be able to smile so easily even after what life has dealt her. In all the years he had known her, she had never once complained or expressed envy of others.

  “You know too much of my dreams, Mr. Robbins,” she said with a shake of her head.

  Taking off his cap, he gave her a little salute. “Enjoy your day, child.”

  “You, too, sir.” She waited until Mr. Robbins had driven off before turning back to face the library.

  A sense of wonder filled her.

  This magical place would be hers, even for just a few minutes.

  How wonderful!

  She entered the library with her heart beating fast, thinking that the librarian surely wouldn’t mind if she just explored a little. There were still a few rooms in the third floor that she hadn’t ever ventured into, and her heart skipped a beat at the thought of what she would discover there.

  Her glance slid to the mantel clock behind the librarian’s counter.

  Three-fifteen.

  I can at least have fifteen minutes to explore, she thought. That would leave her five minutes to search for the new title Arisa wanted, and then if she ran all the way to the market and back home---

  She should be back before five, Ever mentally computed.

  Satisfied with the plan, she laid her bag on the counter and hurried up the stairs. The library was cool and dark, with more shadows than light, but it didn’t bother her at all. For Ever, all these only reminded her even more of the Underworld, and that was never a bad thing.

  She also found the silence soothing, which was the opposite of Arisa’s constant bellows and complaints, the incessant buzzing, and when it was time to sleep, even her worries of the future sometimes seemed like mosquitoes buzzing about inside her brain.

  But here in the library, she found peace.

  It would be nice if I could live here with my own Hades. We would talk forever, like Hades and Persephone did. We would dance, kiss, make love---

  Her cheeks flushed at the unexpected direction of her thoughts.

  Whoa, whoa, Ever, where did that come from?

  Although she had always dreamt about having her own Hades, she had never dreamt of doing that with him…until now.

  She mentally shook her head. Must be the place, she thought, that’s making me so whimsical.

  Upon reaching the third floor of the library, she found herself once again fascinated with the play of light and colors coming from the hallways’ stained glass windows, which ran almost from the ceiling to the floor.

  The stained glass artworks depicted equally magical scenes, such as of winged creatures resting on the clouds, a castle so big that it spanned the horizon, and sunlight was the color of silver.

  Almost like the moon, she thought, but with rays.

  At the very end of the hallway, the last door on the left slowly and inexplicably swung open with an eerily creaking sound.

  Ever froze.

  “Hello?” She covered her mouth as soon as the word slipped out, knowing it had been stupid. You do not say hello to a possible intruder, Ever Carlisle. Only actors playing foolish characters do that!

  She looked about her wildly, trying to look for a possible weapon, but she found nothing at all.

  Ever slowly backed away, the thick, old carpet underneath her absorbing the sound of her footsteps. She would call the police and report---

  Oh!

  The room at the end was suddenly ablaze with light, so dazzlingly it was as if the brightness of it was unearthly.

  This didn’t seem to be the work of an intruder.

  But if this was, could it be a ghost? She had never heard of a haunting this type, and---

  Oh!

  This time, music started to play from the room, and she recognized it almost instantly.

  Edvard Grieg’s Morning Mood.

  Why would a ghost or an intruder play something like that?

  It didn’t make any sense.

  At all!

  Her heart skipped a beat, and this time the shiver that ran through her body wasn’t of fear but of…excitement.

  An adventure, she couldn’t help thinking even though she knew someone sensible should be running away and screaming for her bloody life.

  She took a step forward, and still the music played.

  A start of an adventure---

  Of something – anything – that could change her life, even if for a moment.

  She walked more quickly, and now that she was nearer, she could actually hear the sound of laughter and murmurs---

  Not one, not two, but it sounded like there was a ball taking place inside the room---

  Which was absurd, Ever couldn’t help thinking. She pinched her cheeks just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She even slapped herself, never mind that her left cheek was still stinging from her aunt’s blow.

  But still, the music remained, and this time she even heard the sound of tinkling glasses, of a cork popping and champagne whizzing out before there came the sound of toasting and innumerable people cheering.

  Happy birthday, Hades!

  Her eyes flew wide open.

  No, she couldn’t have heard that.

  She couldn’t possibly have heard that.

  Thank you.

  The voice was deep and husky, strong and male – exactly the kind of voice she would have imagined someone like the Prince of Darkness, the Lord of the Underworld, would possess.

  Her mind reeled at the sheer impossibility of it.

  And yet---

  Her breath caught.

  What if it was real?

  What if this was really happening?

  What if she could leave for the Underworld?

  Her breath caught.

  And the next thing she knew, she was running, her heart beating so hard she could barely hear the way her mind had started whispering in desperate hope.

  Please, please, please---

  But as soon as she stumbled inside the room, everything went dark and silent.
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  Ever fell to her knees in a gasp.

  Her fingers dug into her palms.

  Please, please, please---

  Surely, it would come back.

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  Please, please, please come back.

  She wished it so hard she could’ve sworn she heard the sound of fingers running over the keys of a flute, could’ve sworn she saw flashes of dancing couples, could’ve sworn she felt---

  Dark beautiful eyes staring at her like she was his dream come to life.

  Oh!

  Her eyes flew open.

  But everything was still the same.

  Shelves everywhere she looked, filled with old books that didn’t seem to have been opened for decades, and behind them were windows that had been boarded up. Even the carpeted floor under her was buried underneath a thick layer of dust, so much so that its intricately woven drawings were barely visible.

  The silence that Ever had once loved was now just as oppressive as the noise of her every day life, and she whispered, “No.”

  She shook her head.

  “No!”

  The cry was torn out of her, and she began to sob. She almost wished she was insane, but she knew she wasn’t. Because if she was, then she would continue to think that what she had thought she seen, what she had thought she heard, was real. That the magical scene she had imagined still existed, somewhere in this very room---

  Make me understand, God, please make me understand.

  She lifted her gaze up, wishing she could see past the ceiling, the roof, past the skies that hid the one who had given her this type of life.

  I’m not blaming you, God, but I just want to understand why.

  Why would God play such a cruel joke on her?

  It didn’t make sense---

  And it shouldn’t.

  She swallowed. It was stupid and unfair to blame God for her mental lapse. She was probably too hungry, too sleep-deprived, and too stressed – the combination of it had proved too much that for one moment, she had snapped.

  But at least now she was back to her senses, Ever thought numbly.

  She wasn’t crazy.

  She was still alive.

  “Yippee.” It should have come out cheerful and celebratory, but instead it spilled tonelessly past her lips. The weight of her existence bore down on Ever, and it was almost like a physical burden that her back actually started to bend---