Life goes on
Albert’s friends stayed at his parent’s house, due to the insistence of Asha, one more day. They talked with Albert about hundreds of things, but they all avoided the same topic: Marla. They knew that what had happened with Mayra had been only a warning, a sign of what was going to come, and they were scared even if they wouldn’t admit it. Albert was especially afraid, knowing the great danger he had put his friends on. And they all ended up avoiding the topic, maybe in hope that it would banish. By the end of the day Albert started to be himself again, his friends had done him good, specially Myriam. He knew they had to leave, and he felt sorry that they had had to visit him in such circumstances, yet, in the bottom of his heart, he didn’t want to let them go.
When the moment came for them to leave, he made them promise him that they would be careful, that they wouldn’t go researching around, and less so now that he would be so far away. He made them promise so a thousand times before he was satisfied, which also coincided with the time the train was pulling into the station. He kissed Myriam one more time, showing her, without words how much he loved her.
Albert stayed one more week. First, because he knew he needed a closure, and secondly, because Asha required of him more than she ever knew. Albert was the only thing she had left of her late husband, and he looked so much like him. John was supportive, for sure, but she needed Albert in that moment, she needed him close, she needed to talk to him, to take care of him. And Albert let her do it, he knew that she would feel better, and it would also make him feel better. He had been caring about other people for so long that it was good not having to worry about anything for a change. They both started feeling better after some days together, they still felt the absence of Mayra, and they would feel it for a long time, however, it didn’t hurt as much then.
That was the moment when Albert decided that he had to start fighting against Marla. His grief had mostly converted into rage, and he felt the fire inside telling him to do something about it. He thought carefully about what he had to do, and how he could do it, it would be dangerous, but he did feel that the feeling of losing his sister was only going to make him more powerful. It was time to step up his game and fight Marla as equals. Four days after his sister’s death he went to sleep determined. It took him some time to find the concentration to control his dream, but once he did it he knew nothing would take him off the path.
He dreamt himself just outside Marla’s house. The night was clear and the moon was full, making everything look bathed in silver. He made a quick round inside the house to make sure that she was alone there. As usual, Marla was sleeping in her bed, as if she had never done anything wrong. He no longer pitied her, if she hated the power she had so much she should have fought against it if she hadn’t it was either because she was too weak, or because there was something in her that needed the power. Either way she didn’t deserve to live. He wouldn’t kill her then, however, he wanted her to suffer, as he had suffered. He went back outside and focused on the plants that surrounded the house, at first he thought that he wouldn’t be able to, but when they started burning merrily he was relieved. He then, made the flames higher, brighter, and warmer than they should have been on their own. He made them get closer to the house, creeping slowly towards it. The flames left traces behind them, charred trails of grass and plants. He deactivated the fire alarms, and let the fire blacken the red bricks. He also drew all the curtains closed to avoid the light getting in. It was a warning note, after all. He made sure that no part of the outside of the house remained unburned, it took him lots of mental control, but he ended up satisfied with the result. Once he was done he put off the flames, and started disabling all the essential supplies of the house, first water and electricity, then any kind of communications, he even dared tampering with Marla’s cellphone. Finally he locked out all the outside doors and windows but the one in Marla’s beedroom. And he left, knowing that his message would have get through.
The following morning Marla woke up to find that the electricity was gone. She went up to the fuse unit only to find them all burned, as if there had been an electric storm. She would need help on that, she saw, but the phone wasn’t working either. She started to feel upset about it, what could have happened to have everything down? She walked up back to her room, and picked up her cell phone, but it was as useless as a brick. She finally realized that the curtains were drawn, and she would have swore that she had left them open. She walked to the window and opened them. The glass had become a dark grey from smoke, and in some places it had started to melt. She wondered how it was possible that the fire hadn’t awaken her. She opened the doors of the balcony, fearing what she may witness outside. The first thing that hit her was the terrible smell, the smell of burned grass, and wood, and clay and glass. Her eyes started watering because of the ashes in the air. When she could finally see again, she saw that it hadn’t been an accident, that it all had been in purpose, as the message written with fire on the grass proved. “You killed Mayra. You are next”.
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