This is dedicated to Aya, for everything.

Night

A chilling breeze blew through the trees, the leaves rustling in reply. The area was the result of years of abandonment and neglect. The consequences were glaringly obvious: a flowerbed overgrown with weeds; a cemetery, cracked headstones with their faded inscriptions aplenty, and the house itself-a structure of rotten wood; shattered windows; of which remained jagged glass fragments still clinging to the window frame; and dusty, torn curtains billowing in the wind., painting a picture of desolation and loneliness. A lonely house, facing a lonely road with only a streetlamp and a bus shelter for company.

And a lonely girl with her books and backpack.

As Mari waited at the bus shelter, leaning against the lone streetlamp, strands of her long black hair floating in her face, she could not help feeling left out, and afraid. Left out as the streetlamp, bus shelter and the house had stood stock-still through time, watching the world go by and yet she had just walked into the picture with them in it. She felt like a new character in an old painting, as if the painter, after pondering for such a long time, for years and years, had finally decided to add her in with a flourish of his brushes. She felt as if the non-living things here knew more than she did. Not for the first time in her life, she felt small and intimidated.

The rustling leaves seemed to discuss of this new thing, sharing secrets among themselves. She would wish to hear them; a pity they spoke in such soft voices, and the wind whistled too loudly.

She felt afraid, noticing for the umpteenth time how sharp the broken window fragments were, glinting in the light of the full moon like the teeth of some bloodthirsty beast. True, the window frame could easily, with some imagination, be its jaws…

She shook her head to rid herself of frightening thoughts. It was eerie enough for her, this place, without scaring herself.

An owl hooted in the distance. She rubbed her arms. It was freezing, and she was lack of a jacket. She regretted studying in the library till that late. She should have been back by ten, due to her curfew but alas, she had fallen asleep and till kind old Mrs Camri the librarian woke her up at closing time-twelve midnight. When she reached home, she just knew she would be reprimanded by her brother.

She knew that she was making things hard for him-ever since Dad disappeared one winter’s day and Mum died more than ten years ago. They had been living out a life of their own. They were not very well-off; when the money ran out he had to juggle multiple jobs as well as his studies at the university, paying for water and electricity, her studies and his own, as well as for daily necessities, yet he was always prepared to give her a smile when she needed one, and most of his time just to hear her endless chatter about her day at school, and a hug just to see her dry her tears and smile. She was very grateful for having someone like him; she was not certain if her parents would do the same if they were still around. After all, she did not think someone who would vanish into the night, leaving his children without a thought for their survival, would be a caring individual.

Although her brother had done so much for their little family of two, and it was a matter of fact that he meant the world to her, she still wish that he would be less strict. There were many rules around the house, from timeslots to use the only study room they had to doing household chores. The curfews made her more than a little annoyed: coming home before ten meant that she had less time for herself and her friends. And although she inwardly knew that her brother had done all he could to make this “family thing work out”, as he would put it, a little bit of unsatisfaction still nagged at her inside, but she did not voice out, believing it to be selfish of her. Truth be told, she felt guilty for not doing anything “beneficial”, unlike her brother, who, in her eyes, could do almost anything. Then, she made a small promise that when she grew up and got a job, she would do all she could to make him happy.

That was not fulfilled, yet.

Now after leaving the library, all Mari had to do was to wait for the bus at the bus shelter by the deserted road, beside the abandoned house. Mrs Camri had looked a little worried when she said that, and she even offered to take her home in her car, but she had turned it down, confident that she could go home by herself. She had done this for so many times it was already a routine, having always come back the same way after her library trips. Mrs Camri had looked unconvinced, but she gave her a smile all the same and told her to “Be careful, dear.”

She had been waiting for the bus since half an hour ago and she was still waiting. It was strange, since the bus usually came within ten or fifteen minutes of waiting. Maybe it was slow at these hours. After all, she reasoned, there were less people during these hours.

Her mind was left to wonder about the past events and occurances. She believed this as “healthy”, as when the mind was doing these things it made new links to events which it, when active, was unable to think through and do so. This also helped her to identify certain mistakes, mistakes she would do her utmost to avoid.

Recently, she had heard from her friends that there were wild dogs roaming about the deserted places in town, especially late in the night. They reported lived in packs and stole food, even attacked people who had food or were alone. No lives were lost, but one had been mauled so badly it was certain he would never walk again. Her heart had ached with pity when her friends’ had filled with fear and revulsion at the extent of the attacks. Pity for both humans and dogs. Pity for those who had been injured and pity for the dogs. In their desperation, they had resorted to violence, and as far as she knew, most of them were scavengers and will not strike back unless provoked. She wondered what had made them so hungry. It was also pitiful that humans and animals could not live in harmony with each other and humans would just seek and destroy the other just to live peacefully. Would they not care for the dogs, too? She was sure if some sort of agreement was established, both could emerge unscathed. If only humans would be a little more understanding. If only…

A growl.

A growl had sounded not far away. She turned to the sound.

It came from the bushes a few metres away from her.

Another one.

She froze. She was not expecting an encounter with these creatures. At least, not now. I need a weapon to drive them away. She reached for closest the book that lay at her feet.

Out stepped from the darkness four dogs. Snarling, with gobs of drool dripping from their barely concealed canine teeth, they inched forward, one paw after another, yellow eyes glowing evilly like headlights, fixed intently on its prey.

She tried to run; her feet would not obey. She stayed rooted to the spot, helpless against the advance of her attackers. She knew if she ran they would chase her: carnivores love the thrill of a chase. “What now?” She found herself asking.

Gathering all her strength, she hurled the book at the beasts; they darted in different directions, easily avoiding it and landed back on the ground on firm feet. She was certain they could smell her fear coming off her in waves, growing in excitement as she was slowly consumed by her ever-growing fear. She tried not to imagine what would happen to her as they tore limbs apart and shattered bone, staining the green grass a horrible blood red.

And then, without warning, they leaped toward her as one, a group of gnashing teeth, crushing jaws and nothing short of craziness. Her scream cut through the air as the flung herself backwards, crashing towards the dusty ground. Her back borne the impact of the crash and she raised her arms over her face in a last attempt to protect herself, however futile it may be.

Nothing happened.

She opened her eyes a tiny crack and saw the deserted clearing, the dogs mere specks, a long distance away. A clearing void of bloodthirsty animals waiting to tear her to pieces.

A clearing with a figure standing among the pines, smiling at her.

“Brother…” She blinked, unable to comprehend the situation. She was still slightly dizzy after the ordeal.

He smiled and it was a heartwarming one, though the underlying sadness she did not understand. He began to saunter towards her as if nothing had happened, the smile on his lips that meant more than just that a smile.

He stopped a metre or so before he reached her. “It’s okay now,” he said. “You’re safe.”

The breeze blew gently again, a reassuring gesture, as if to affirm that.

She burst into tears, shining droplets flowing down her face, forming twin rivers, one on each cheek. She ran to him with her arms outstretched like a small child to her mother. She could not really believe that he had made the salivating dogs disappear but found out that she did not care if it defied all reasoning and logic. As what he said, she was safe, and it was all that mattered to her. She was safe, safe.

Alarm was written briefly on his face at that instant.

“Whoa, whoa,” He stepped back, avoiding her embrace. His hazel eyes softened momentarily at her hurt expression and then when she smiled, again he smiled.

A roar broke the silence and peacefulness of the clearing. A bus trudged towards them, towards the bus shelter, its twin headlights were rays cutting through the darkness.

“Erm, look, you go home first, okay? I…have something to do.” He looked imploring into her eyes, a plea for her to agree. All her puzzlement melted away.

“Okay!” She replied brightly. Then, signaling for the bus to stop, she began to climb the bus steps. Halfway, she stopped and looked back at him. “I’ll wait at home, ‘kay? It’s getting dark, don’t wander about too long.” Care and concern, just what a sister would give. And a smile of her own.

His expression became uneasy, like what people do when they were going to lie to their loved ones but were burdened down with regret. But when he looked at her to answer, all that was on his face was relief and happiness.

“Okay, you get safely home first.” She nodded gleefully like an innocent child as she again began her ascent.

“Wait!” She stopped. She looked, but he was already running off into the trees.

Before he vanished, she thought she heard “Sorry.” escape from his lips.

She was home. Home at last. Although her home was just a small cottage at the end of Barking Lane, and a humble one compared to all the other mansions with their swimming pools and huge gardens, this felt like home. She was not so certain she would feel the same if they moved to one of those glamourous houses. It would just be a house to her, and not a home. It would lack memories.

It was already very late. The bus at gone through a series of meandering roads until at last it arrived at the bus shelter near her living quarters.

She fumbled with the keys as she stood in front of the wooden doors. The lock clicked and she threw open the doors, catching a scent of old books and clothing.

As she locked up, the phone in the living room began to ring. She picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” It was her best friend, Keisha.

“Oh, you’re back! I called twice today and no one answered.” Mari thought it strange; her brother was supposed to be at home today.

“Erm, by they way, I’m very sorry for what happened.” “What happened?” She was dying to find out more. Many things had happened that she did not understand. She felt a premonition.

“You didn’t know? Er…your brother had a car accident in the evening, about eight plus. Erm, he died.”

She felt sick to the stomach. Everything had gone deathly quiet, as if the house was preparing her for the news. He’s dead? How…? Then how could he rescue me just a while ago?

She shivered and let the phone slip from her hands into her lap.

“Lucian!” She howled tears afresh, her face in her hands. The salty droplets made scarlet spots on her pink dress.

“Sorry”? What were you sorry for?