It was six-fifteen in the morning. The world was still shrouded in darkness but he was already fully awake. Not exactly fully- his eyes were open though his sore muscles and bloodshot eyes were testaments to a hex of insomnia. He could only lay his head down on his pillow at two a.m. because he had to clean the revolting mess with a handkerchief tied around his head to cover his nose after sending Mina to Maggie’s dorm, since it was already late and she was experiencing the worst bout of nausea.

Sleepless when he used to be addicted to it before. It steered him away from reality. Sleepless when he could really use some restorative siesta. His mind was simply too active, creating a raucous flea market of thoughts, fears and frustration- all muddled up, making foggy sense.

A set of screaming, chaotic disarray.

Frank must have been hearing the clatters of his mind when he could not sleep. Now, I know how he feels.

It totally sucks.

A heavy downpour of aggravation came crashing down onto his heart, dampening whatever lifted spirits he might have raised for himself. The torrential cascade welled puddles of tears in him- tears of anguish that he could not just let flow out of his eyes. The ground was slicked owing to the seemingly eternal spell of rain and he kept slipping. Getting up and slipping- his soul was soon splattered with mud.

He was sick. Sick of the undulating emotions that coursed through his veins- all acidic- burning him from within, corroding any happiness he thought he could reach for.

All it took were rotten eggs to crush his hopes and vague plans that had seemed so buoyant- a little joy that could keep him afloat. Had his locker not been invaded, he thought he might actually convince Mina to have dinner with him and maybe, in a way, let the normal outing evolve into a date.

Wishful thinking.

Fate liked to throw mockeries at wishful thinking. He had with him two tickets for last night’s show. Granted it was not a romantic movie- Austin Powers 3 was as crappy as it could get- but he thought they could just laugh away the blues and be nonsensical for a while. Senseless. He wanted to be numb again. Maybe sleeping all the time was not so bad. The horrors of the recurring nightmares could be dealt with better than the horrors of reality.

Thoughts raced through his irrepressible mind. He wondered about many things, about who would want to play such a sick prank on him. His keyboard was definitely ruined, it had cost him plenty. Didn’t they know his life was putrid enough without anyone endeavoring to duplicate a mess of reeking sulphurous potion in his locker?

And why was he even bothering with college?

If there was no college, there would be no locker and no rotten eggs.

Mental hallucinations wrought his mind. Shadows of his professors grew horns and jazzed away to a sardonic rhapsody. Tails sprung from their butts and red-hot pitchforks became their sadistic choice instrument of torture, poking at him. It was ridiculous but as he watched the perverse flick at the back of his mind, he was sure of one thing.

College might not be that great after all.

A degree might be a fantastic stepping stone to the corporate world where everyone would try to grind one another into harmless powder onto the grimy ground. It might be a magic key to a higher status of some sort.

Nonetheless, Joe just could not see it. Could not see himself enduring it for another 3 years. Yes, he had three years more to go. He was lagging behind his peers by a whole year.

He was lagging behind sanctity by a measure of infinity.

It was not like he did not try. He did. Without anyone’s knowledge, he read up on the course details for Criminology but how could he send anyone to prison knowing what kind of hell could ensue for the unfortunate being, guilty of his crimes or not? Maybe it used to be his passion but the passion that had been blazing soon burned itself up, fizzling into the night sky. He thought maybe it was the subject he was taking. History. He loved History, yet, he was hardly intellectual enough to unravel the mysteries of the past. So he investigated English. It was touted to be easier than most subjects.

The required readings for that major did not even sound English to him.

Greek. Latin. Hebrew. Aramaic. Anything but English.

And there was nothing else that he qualified for. His high school grades, though not marvelous, were undeniably good. Compared to Frank’s it would be pathetic but compared to an average student, Joe would seem smart. He knew he was. He just needed to find his brains.

He did not qualify for the rest because he lacked one important factor.

Enthusiasm.

At that moment, Mina decided to visit his mental consciousness. Vanessa too.

Vanessa. Mina. Vanessa. Mina.

And prison.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, feeling his solar plexus about to detonate from all the exertions.

Someone was screaming his name. His eyes shot opened and his vision was once again clouded crimson.

Gritting his teeth so hard that they just might disintegrate, Joe closed his eyes- his hands were pressing against the side of his head. A silent scream emitted from the pits of soul and his head shook violently against the onslaught of bladed thoughts- slicing him; skinning him from the inside.

He flung his hands down to his sides and his eyes revealed a stark, blue horror. Panting, he could feel the pounding of his heart against his chest- the pulsating muscle threatened to burst through.

No. It’s over. It’s only my imagination.

The flood drowned him. He was sinking again. He looked to his left for a savior, but Shane was sleeping too soundly. Joe observed the rising and falling of his roommate’s chest, and the mask of jealousy became his to wear. Though he would love to set the wails of banshees upon his roommate to rouse him, he would be courteous and kind enough to leave Shane alone to his peaceful slumber.

Throwing his covers aside, he stumbled out of bed and changed into a loose t-shirt and yesterday’s jeans. Walking as if on mushy cotton, he seized his keys from his study table and made his way into the common kitchen. The common kitchen was pretty bare but it held his stash of comfort food hidden somewhere in one of the cabinets. Tearing open a bag of potato chips that he had retrieved, he approached the huge, full length window at the back of the kitchen.

It was so quiet and the sky was still tinted with the deepest blue- no more black at that hour. A chilly breeze blew against his face, like the coldness of her fingers stroking his cheeks, devoid of life, whimsically wanting to hold on to him still.

Or maybe it was him, still wanting to hold on to her.

"I miss you. You have no idea how much." He whispered to no one in particular- only the memory in his heart knew whom the words were for.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the crisp, clean air, rejuvenated over the night. He breathed in and took in the scent of sandalwood that used to fragrant the air she left behind in her saunter- an amble with the grace of a ballerina. The strands of his fringe danced on his face and he imagined it was her ash-blond hair.

Black hair. Silky black hair.

His eyes shot open and he dropped the bag of chips onto the floor, spilling a few crispy, yellow morsels onto the cold, hard floor.

Grey eyes. No longer laughing with that sultriness. Grey eyes. Now large and even slightly haunted.

No. She cannot replace…her…

His words sounded hollow even to himself.

Spinning around, he hurried away from the spot where those thoughts that he was unworthy of meandered their way through the clutters in his mind to reach his heart and tugged at it, bringing aching sweetness and tearful anguish.

And almost bumped into Maggie whose back was towards him, about to knock on his dormitory door.

His eyes fluttered as he saw his sister in a crumpled t-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.

"What’re you doing here?" He asked hoarsely from behind her and she turned, startled.

"Oh…ahmm…I tried calling your mobile but you did not answer."

Oh. Silent mode. No vibration. I may as well switch it off in the future.

He grabbed her by her elbows and dragged her into the kitchen. "It’s dangerous for you to be wandering around campus when the sun’s not out yet. And here…Maggie, do you even know anything about the people staying in this block?"

"I know you. You’re my brother." Maggie chirped as Joe released his grip. He rolled his eyes, annoyed by her naivety.

"What if something happened to you? Maggie…" He nagged, his tone gradually taking on a hissing tinge.

"I’m alright, right? Ok, I promise I’ll be more conscious of my safety in future. Mina’s really sick. She kept throwing up and won’t go to see a doctor. I thought I’d run over since our blocks are only ten minutes apart. You should bring her to a twenty-four hours clinic or a hospital." Maggie explained her intentions; her expression was somber with rare, subdued concern.

Worry surged through his very being and he took his sister’s arm again. Actually, he snatched it. He was clutching it extremely hard as he dashed off with her flying behind him.

Oh God, let Mina be all right.

Little pictures of smiling viruses and germs floated in his head and he shook them off. His sister was yelping as his speed was too fast for even her most presto rhythm, thus, he was effectively dragging her.

"Hey…I’m going to fall…" She clawed at his sleeves with her free hand. "Joe…she’s not dying. Just green… I think it’s most probably stomach flu or something…"

He slowed down but he still held on to her, probably just needing that human touch for that moment. And it was his little sister; someone whom he knew would never be a threat to him. Maggie would not know it but somehow, through the touch, Joe’s worries over Mina were shared with Maggie and that made every bad thing manageable.

Letting go of her hand only when they reached his van, parked at a lot behind the hostel, he fumbled with his bunch of keys, trying to find the right one although it did stick out like a sore thumb. Slotting the key into the lock, he wrestled with it a while. Finally he swung his car door open and he climbed into his van after which he unlocked the door on the other side for Maggie.

Very soon, he was speeding out of the car park that his hostel block shared with three others and swerving into the one beside it that served his sister’s much more respectable-looking hall of residence.

***

 

Joe was sitting on the brown-colored polyester-covered couch just outside the doctor’s office, with Maggie reading a magazine beside him. The clinic was just three streets away from UB, it’s walls a welcoming mixture of white and pastel pink and blue. It was autumn but the decorative plastic flowers on the counter bloomed an everlasting spring.

After much persuasion, Joe finally got Mina to get over her strange obstinacy at not going to the doctor for professional help. It was a pretty tough battle. He did not think Mina could be so difficult- like a stubborn child who was determined to hold her breath until she turned blue.

"C’mon! Your face’s ugly as the mould I found on my bread this morning!" He attempted to scoop her up. She was a pale shade of sick green and her forehead felt too feverish for comfort.

"I don’t need a doctor! Maggie! Get your stupid brother to put me down!" She protested as she flailed weakly at his chest when he finally succeeded in cradling her in his arms before carrying her out of the room. Maggie’s giggles accompanied them all the way until he gently laid Mina down upon the passenger seat of his van. Maggie sat behind. Mina grumbled all the way about how twenty-four hour doctors were always under qualified and overtly exploitative and how their medicines were always useless. Not used to Mina’s unusual display of childishness and temper and worried like hell over her condition, Joe glared at her at a red light.

"Shut up!" He snapped at her much too waspishly; his anxiousness for her took on a warped manifestation.

"Back at you!" She retorted before she covered her mouth as her body immediately hunched over in a dry heave.

"Well, though the squabbling is highly entertaining… but Joe’s driving is getting a little reckless now with all these passions that are between the both of you. I do value my life…" Maggie requested with as straight a face as she could. Her tone so extremely cordial that it must be faked. Joe knew she was mocking the both of them and he let out a soft growl.

The three of them kept quiet for the whole journey.

He smiled secretly then, remembering the suppleness of her body in his arms, the fragility of it and the feistiness that he had just discovered. Maggie noticed the smile.

"I hope you’re not gloating over her illness."

"Nope, I’m not. So… what’s up with you?" Joe cracked an attempt at bantering with his sister. Truth was, he was concerned about Maggie, but once again, he was too deeply entrenched in his self-loathing and pity to show care for someone else- even someone as dear to him as his sister.

The impish light in Maggie’s brown eyes was lost in the sudden mist that visited her. Her lips curled as she flipped the pages of the fashion magazine that she was browsing through indolently. "Oh… just like that."

"Like what?" Joe arched his brows. His gut feeling told him that something was wrong. Very gently, he extricated the magazine away from Maggie who then leaned back and rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, blowing at a lock of her hair.

"Maggie?" Joe waved a hand in front of his sister’s face. Maggie smiled weakly at him finally.

"Ok. I can’t hide from you. I’ll have to tell you this sooner or later but… my sponsors accepted my request to switch to Berklee College of Music. I must give them the confirmation soon. And…" Maggie averted her eyes and bit her lower lip. "I don’t know…"

Joe’s eyes widened. Berklee College of Music.

Massachusetts. Next to New York but…

But still far away…not like she’s going to be in Bayport…

"Whoa… Maggie… why?" Joe gestured around vaguely, giving Maggie a questioning look.

"The programs here, Joe, they’re just not comprehensive enough and the faculty is not matured. I mean it’s good…but…not as good. I want to be somewhere more established…you know… and…" Maggie stumbled over her own words near the end. The bond between siblings unveiled to Joe the half-truths as realization flashed across his mind.

"You chose to come here even though you’re good enough for anywhere else because… because of what happened to me, isn’t it?" Joe asked quietly before he shifted his lower jaw this way and that. "I mean, I was always surprised by your decision to attend college here. There’s… there’s no need for such sacrifices, darling."

Not at all. You can just leave me here. It’s all right.

Look at the wrong I have done without even doing them. Frank should be in Harvard, soaring up there with all the smart people. Instead he’s down here, hardly worthy of him.

And you… you should be in some prestigious music college, thrilling the world with your nimble mastery of the violin.

Really. I’m sorry.

Maggie clasped his hands and smiled grimly. Joe endeavored to suppress the involuntary shudders and succeeded, though currents of electricity shot through his hands and jolted him violently inside. Whatever idea about Maggie being his sister, and therefore harmless, dissipated like smoke.

Nonetheless, pride found a way into his pounding heart when he saw some signs of maturity in the child-like mien for the very first time. "There is. And I’ll continue, but I’m selfish. I don’t know…" She pulled her lips straight tightly for a moment. "No one cares about me. I haven’t been home much lately. When my cell rings, it’s not from mom or dad or even Frank. You called me most of the time for the past two weeks, even if it is to scold me for sending you junk e-mails…"

Joe chuckled softly, remembering the brief conversation they had a few days back. The electricity nullified as his sister’s touch was forgotten.

"My email is not for ELMO SONG sent over FIVE TIMES! You know I don’t check my mail, Maggie! It has exploded!"

"Oh… sorry. Thought it may cheer you up!"

"And…and what’s this? IQ test? I feel so stupid just opening it up! It totally hung my damn, trashy laptop!"

"Don’t worry! At least now you know how dumb you are. Aren’t you going to thank me for it, dear brother? Oh…and time to get a new notebook. Laptop’s so passé! Frank picked out a new one for me. It’s really cool…it has like this little knob somewhere that controls the sound…Frank said it’s like Pentium III or something I don’t know. But it’s so sleek and pretty and…."

"ARGHH!!!!!"

"They’re… they’re forgetting about me…" Maggie’s face wrinkled. "Makes me feel like I should get cancer or something…"

Joe was astonished then by Maggie’s confession of neglect and the morbidity that was so contrary to her effusively happy nature, even if she was jesting. He had not realized it before, he just thought that Maggie was a free-spirit, who came and went as she pleased. But was not Laura always pampering Maggie? Joe was not aware of the changes.

Or maybe he was.

"Hey… here…" He forced himself to pull her close and immediately, she bawled her eyes out into his chest, catching him a little by surprise though he should not be. Joe threw the nurse an embarrassed glance for Maggie’s sudden outburst. His sister. Never one to worry about where she might be. She would laugh like a hyena if it suited her even at the stiffest of meetings. Only funerals could get her to be decently reserved.

He thumbed her back, shushing her.

"No…no one loves me…" Her voice was muffled as his t-shirt was drenched with her tears. "Craig and I broke up too…"

Bastard!

He pulled Maggie away with the intention of wiping her tears dry. However, he stopped himself abruptly when he saw, yet again, the angry red keloids, the darkened patches on the stretched and crinkled skin. Hands that still hurt. Be the pain real or phantom, he ceased to discover.

Drawing his hands away as casually as he could, he tried to gain back the degree of normalcy that he had experienced. "What’s this about Craig?"

Hot water. Someone had hot cooking oil too.

"JOE! HELP ME! HELP! HEELLLLPPPPP!"

"I… I broke up with him… be… because I thought… I thought long distance relationships… will never work out… so I want to break up first. I’ll have… have enough time to nurse the heartbreak be… before I… I go over." She spoke haltingly as hiccups overran her system.

Was there a smell of cooked flesh? An explosion of blinding pain?

Stop. Stop. Stop. Concentrate on Maggie. Maggie’s real. She’s real.

Joe withdrew a crushed pack of tissue out from his pocket and gave it to Maggie who extracted a soft sheet and blew her nose noisily. Joe smiled, amused by her lack of social graces in the most innocent manner.

"I love you, sweetie."

Maggie nodded, half her face was still covered by the tissue. Joe vowed to have a good talk with Craig. His relationship with Maggie lastly scarcely two weeks but he could tell Maggie had already fallen fast and fallen hard.

Craig on the other hand, was his usual insouciant self. Joe hoped, for Craig’s sake, that he was actually taking it with much difficulty.

Or I’ll serve him my fist for breakfast, right up his face.

Just then, the door gently opened and Mina stepped in, giving Joe a weary expression but at least she was smiling. Maggie looked up, giving her nose one last wipe with the tissue before she stood up and hurried over to Mina’s side. "What did the doctor say?"

Mina threw a glance apologetically at Joe before replying, "A bad case of stomach flu… and fever. I need to rest."

"Good. Then let’s go get the medicine…" Maggie slipped her hand through Mina’s and guided her to the pharmacy. Joe followed behind, some melancholy found it’s way onto his countenance but it was all right, because they could not see. His semi-flashbacks caused him to shoved his hands back where they belonged- in his pockets.

***

 

"I still think you should just sleep. Why don’t you sleep?" Joe groused. Mina had mulishly tried to stay awake despite the effects of her medicine, threatening to pull her into dreamland. Her excuse was that she had a test the next day. To Joe, everybody had a test the next day but him. He mooted down her excuse but Mina was not swayed. It was eleven, close to four hours after their trip to the doctor’s.

They were seated side by side beneath the shade of one of the many huge, nameless trees in a field close to his hostel block. It was only a small field and hardly as utilized as the one behind the faculty of Mass Communications but it was vacated, save for the two of them. Mina had in her hands, Civilization and its Discontents. Joe honestly thought that Sigmund Freud was a magician pulling rabbits out of his hat somewhere in Vegas until he attended this class.

Mina’s eyelids were heavy and her fingers were shaking as she flipped another page. "It’s such a beautiful day. Why should we sleep? I hate this medicine…makes me drowsy…" She drawled heavily and Joe was certain that it would not be long before her somnolent system finally defeated her persistent spirit.

She was right. It was a beautiful day. Bayport was blessed with a beautiful autumn that year. The town took on the ambience of a gigantic confectionary, selling only walnut cakes. The squirrels darted in and out of naked sight, being the elusive dwellers of trees. And the leaves! Joe could not even begin to describe the leaves. He could not imagine the many different shades of amber, gold, red and brown, all beautiful, bringing out a rustic picture- a sepia print from eons ago.

Right on cue, little yellow petals and small leaves painted a spectrum of golden hues, raining upon Mina and him, like the confetti that only nature could create, accompanied by a slight breeze. He watched as Mina almost squealed with delight at the present that the sporadic wind brought her. She set her book down and stretched out a hand with the palm facing up to catch the fallen petals and foliage. Like a fairy princess in a beautiful autumn dream, her pale face shone even in the midst of sickness.

Her smile was heavenly.

Angel.

He was just right beside her, watching her; watching the showers of nature’s blessings enchanting her. She made a scene so common, so heartbreaking. Filled with the surrealism of the reality he was in, he imagined they were on a stage and she was the princess. And he- the peasant boy she had bestowed her sweet smile on- raised to her ranks from his lowliness by her generosity and grace.

If only for a while. I can be her prince, if only for a while.

And she, my princess. On the throne. My innocent princess.

Intoxicated by the spellbinding reverie, he lowered his head and nuzzled the softness of silk and was soon inebriated by the fragrance of spring. If she had woven the spell on him, he hoped she would never wake him up; hoped that she could keep him enthralled forever and a day more.

We’ll pirouette together, to the showers of autumn leaves, as her crown glistens in the sun. Love shines in those grey eyes for me, as she lends me her wings to soar above the hullabaloo to peace and quiet.

I’m not so blind that I cannot see.

Not knowing how, not knowing why, he was soon embracing her- his eyes were closed the whole time.

But in his mind, there was her face.

Lost in the moment, he rested his head in the soft hollow between her neck and her shoulder.

It was oh so quiet, save the soothing melody of the rustle of the trees and the occasional chirps from the birds, lulling the blossoming romance into the realm where the world did not matter anymore.

He could hear her breathing calmly and felt her chest rising and falling against him. His breathing was calm as well. Maybe it was always meant to happen.

They just embraced for a very, very long time. She was holding him, running her fingers through his hair, rubbing her cheek against the side of his head. His hands were tightly wrapped around her, feeling her softness and warmth from the very slight fever that she still had. Without that fever, he was sure she would still be warm. She would be warm even in winter. She would thaw him as they melt into each other.

She fell asleep, holding on to him.