Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
You wake up in a daze, still not sure whether or not you're alive. You get up and stare at your desk, scattered notes & pictures lining atop it. A garbage can full of used cigars and torn-up documents. It all used to mean something, used to represent a life that wasn't there anymore. All it brought you was pain, so you got rid of it. The pleading cries from inside a napkin with a drawing of saturn on it left unanswered.
Getting dressed in an all black suit, you head down to your kitchen and stare into the contents, grab a banana & a glass of water for breakfast as you rush to the garage and start the car, it needs some repairs but you don't want any, you remember every scratch of paint driving down the Italian coastline you couldn't bother to admire. You slam the brakes as a sign catches your eye. It's a school entrance.
It's graduation day in the Basilicata Catholic all-girls institute.
Birds chirping, choir girls singing, church bells ringing as the new adults of the world prepare to spread their wings in the school's bright pink halls. Though it must have been surprising for such students to see a not-so-new, decrepit, bald adult walking through the campus. The man quietly passed the celebrating students and headed to the lower floors, swiping a keycard while on the elevator, which led him down to a wine cellar. The man was you.
You entered the cellar, and the air smelled of must; the walls were covered in dust & and all you saw was her. You're shaking hands, grasping one of the bottles with alcohol still in them, forcing the lid open as you chug the contents with reckless abandon. After the bottle runs empty, you slide your fingers across the walls one last time before taking off you're cross.
You jam the cross into a small crack in one of the wine barrels, machinery whirring behind as the wall opens up.
The vault was a terrible thing, a bunker full of the Initiatives' most dangerous & powerful relics. It represented everything the Initiative didn't want to be. The halls were nowhere near the dusty mess the cellar it was kept in was; clear white halls shone as its golden accents drew the eyes towards weapon upon weapon upon weapon, all fire & brimstone hanging on the walls.
You fearfully drew your gaze away from the walls, looking straight ahead as you strode forward with a conviction you had never felt since the day you bowed & pleaded for unity to those who would become the tribunal. Turning corner after corner, the nature of the vault grew apparent, space was needed to hold such artefacts, and that retched deer had provided, non-euclidean though the space was. It didn't matter, you were here for better, more noble reasons than our dominion, you held that sacred feeling only humans could have closer than everyone, everything. Once that feeling was love. Love for the boring days, love for enjoyment, love for the insults, love for the arguments only siblings could have, love for family.
Now that feeling was grief, rage & anger at whatever you could think of. The deliveries were late, the missions dragged on and on, Adnan & Samuel made stupid decisions, it was THEIR FAULT, it was Saturn Deers fault it…..
"It was her own fault, you know. It was Ursula's fault that she was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and she paid for that."
You spin backward as a grating face meets yours, and your eyes narrow in disgust.
"EXCUSE ME???" You barked, only a basic sense of conscience preventing you from strangling whoever was behind you.
"You heard me, asshole, did you think I wouldn't know you were here? I BUILT THIS PLACE DAMMIT!"
"Oh, I'm well aware you wretch. Get out of my sight at once."
"And what if I don't? We fight and blow up the school? The chain reaction from the first 5 relics you saw alone would blow up Italy, so pipe down.
"Why are you here? To finish what you started?"
"I didn't kill your sister Bernie, to be frank, I couldn't care less. This place is just a favor."
"A favour, huh? You're even worse than what Henry told me."
"Well, Henry's dead and I'm not. Nothing much to be said after that, I'm just annoyed you ignored my message."
"The fucking napkin?"
"mmhmm. I tried to pay my respects, you know."
"Leave me alone. That's final."
The voice behind you takes a deep sigh and leaves.
You keep walking through the vault, eventually reaching a room headed with a blank pink plate. You open the door to find a single cigar laid atop a wooden pedestal, a note beside it. You took the note, placing a rose from your pocket in its place as you carefully opened it.
The note was blank, and you couldn't help but laugh.
You walk out of the cellar, festivities have ended as the students move on with their lives, you examine the crayon drawings in the classrooms, the confetti on the ground, the uneaten food, the cheerful air as friends make plans, and the staff still left in the school begin to pack their things.
You head towards the reception desk, placing a cigar in front of the receptionist as a quick "Hello" escapes your mouth.
"Mr…Bernard, was it? You look just like her."
"Ah, yes, I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself properly; the students must be confused."
"It's perfectly all alright, sir. Ms. Amadeo was…dear to us all. I can't imagine what you must be going through. This is just as your school as it was at hers."
"Doesn't feel like it. The students here are definitely cut from her cloth.
"Perhaps, but her cloth grew with you, no?"
"Perhaps. Did she ever speak of me? Be honest."
The receptionist coughed as a nervous look etched itself across her face.
"Um, well, sir, she said you were a…."
"A What?"
"An annoying little cunt that can't keep himself out of trouble."
A slight slime creeps across your face.
"She would be happy to know I still am. Have a nice day, ma'am."
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."
