Lacrymosa

Chapter 1

-Autumn-

It was October when Bastien Reve was released from the city hospital. He was never tried nor arrested, since fortunately for him the doctors had run some tests while he was recovering. It was said that he had his moments of consciousness where they could question him about what took place in Gateson. The doctor that had cared for Bastien and led the tests volunteered to take him in instead of sending him to an asylum, which he was absolutely terrified of. Bastien had a hidden fear of being detained, in any shape or form. It was agreed that in exchange for four three-hour sessions a week, he would not be punished in any way. He was diagnosed clinically insane, and therefore criminal punishment didn’t apply to him. The doctor said that he was no threat to anyone. Bastien had suffered a gunshot wound to the back of his head that day, in the florist’s. The shot had changed the way his brain worked, the doctor told the chief. He explained that charging Bastien would do no good, since he needed help rather than rehabilitation. Bastien wasn’t sure exactly what to think when he was first released, but he became grateful of the doctor very quickly.

Upon leaving the hospital building for the first day, Bastien was confronted by a young woman on the steps outside.

“You’re Bastien Reve?” She asked him. He dark hair was tucked away in a wool hat, shielded from the cold autumn breeze. Her eyes gazed deep into Bastien, taking in his every feature.

“Yes, I’m Bastien. Do I know you?” Bastien replied. He too, was absorbing the features of the person he was talking too. He took notice of her pale lips and red cheeks. She had a natural beauty to her, but right now all he noticed was that she was cold.

Taking his scarf off, he reached out and slung it over the woman’s shoulders.

‘What the hell are you doing?” she asked, almost angrily. She gripped the scarf in one hand and his wrist with the other.

“I’m sorry, you looked cold. Your cheeks are bright red…I just thought you’d-“

“No, thanks,” she cut him off, pushing his hand back. “You’re the guy who’s been in the hospital for the better part of the year. Did you know a Emilie Ashford?”

Bastien looked puzzled, he didn’t remember the name.

“Um…No, I’m afraid not. Should I know here? I’m relatively new here…but then again you already know that.”

“Yeah, I know a lot about you Bastien… Emilie was my sister.” The woman stated.

“Ah…”Bastien acknowledged.

“She killed herself working in that hospital.” She said, her face was devoid of all indicators of emotion. He eyes froze up into an almost whitish blue; all brown pigment was gone.

“Oh God…” Bastien managed to mutter, but she started speaking again.

“She was working with your doctor when it happened, working with you. She was working a late shift almost a month ago now, but she never left. Emilie…” the woman trailed off into a series of curses and prayers, “…Emilie drank a bottle of chemicals…I don’t…I don’t know what it was… She wandered out to the hospital courtyard and laid down on a stone bench. Right beside that arch over there, you see?”

She pointed to a large stone arc in the gardens to Bastien’s right. Next to it was a single stone bench, with a bundle of flowers resting on it. The flowers were violet roses, in memoriam of Emilie. They were replaced every week by the hospital staff, most of which closely knew her.

“I read the reports, Bastien…there’s something very, very wrong with you.” She leaned towards him with a tear in her eyes, and put her hand on his chest. Leaning on him and looking up into his dark eyes, she said, “I don’t hold anything against you though, I know you don’t remember any of it…but whatever you said in those tests…” She removed her hand and turned slightly.

“There was something very wrong…” she trailed off into another line of incoherent mumbling as she turned her back to Bastien and started down the steps.

“Wait…I’m sorry…” Bastien called to her.

She stopped and raised her sullen head, but did not turn to face him.

“You’re not sorry, you didn’t even know her.”

“No… I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

The woman’s head turned very slightly back, and another tear streamed down her face.

“My name is Kallista.” She smiled faintly as she told him, but her face turned back to sorrow only seconds later. Bastien watched in pity and guilt as Kallista hailed for a taxi, and drove off. She didn’t turn back to Bastien, she was too unstable at the moment. All that ran through her head on the way home was confusion and helplessness. Why couldn’t she be mad at this man?

‘My God,’ she thought to herself. “What happened?’ She was too lost in his kindness and seemingly innocent appearance at that moment to blame him.

She stumbled into her apartment clumsily and fell onto her couch, exhausted. Lying there for hours, she thought to herself. She wondered what her sister had done to deserve such a fate, and what had been said to drive her to it. She pondered and cried until her surroundings began to fade; temporary peace had come at last.