Kind of Horror

Ecca had a fresh beginning that August. She moved to a bigger room at a new boarding house, closer to our campus than her last one. I helped her move out which took almost one day to be done. She had her wall covered with posters of psychedelic and retro posters and her desk was half covered with gothic character figures from a Japanese comic book, Death Note. She was a fan of black and red, thus she had tried to collect black and red colored furnitures and stuffs.

“You will never get tired of black and red, will you?” I teased.

“Never.”

I laughed a bit. She was always like that: an expert in giving short replies and talking to people without any facial expressions. Sometimes, our friends and I didn’t want to talk to her because of that. She was known as the most cold-hearted woman among my classmates. She heard of it and she could not care less.

“I don’t really mind what other people think. Do you think they are good enough to comment on my life?” That was her cold response once I told her about the negative talks about her, trying to make her change her attitude in public since I thought she was overly rude to everyone. Our campus mates told me that I should stop being nice to her because it was not worth it but I had no intention to leave her, at all. We had known each other since the orientation week in the first semester. We then found that we shared the same interests and hobbies. We had developed a special kind of sisterhood. We kept our secrets.

I care about her. Always have, always will.

I slept over at her place only for that first night. I told her I could not accompany her any longer at her new room because of the strong smell of the newly-painted walls. She did not mind my absence at all, since, as she said, she would live by herself at her new room anyway. She joked around saying she did not need me either. She spent her second night alone, re-watching an episode of Death Note with a jar of caramel brownie ice cream.

The next morning I picked her up, as usual, because we always went to campus together by my scooter. She showed up showing a pale face. I asked her what happened but she did not say anything. From the owner of Ecca’s boarding house I heard that at midnight she horribly screamed and cried. No one at her boarding house could sleep for the rest of that night.

It had been two weeks since the incident happened and made her attitude got worse. She became more ignorant and did not even want to talk to me at all. On the campus, I could only see her crouching as she walked through the crowd and avoiding people, including me.

“Ecca has a really serious attitude problem,” Professor Raja said, “not only the students but the professors are starting to feel bothered. Out of the blue, she could scream and swear. She covered her her ears and shouted ‘stop’. Then her eyes got teary. Then she screamed again. Other professors and I asked her to leave the class although we had no idea to whom or what she begged to stop. I am sorry to say this but we are worried that she lost her sanity.”

I did not say a word at all. Professor Raja stared at me intensely, “I know you are the only person she talks and listens to,” he lowered his voice, “I need you to find out what is the problem and whether it can be solved. I do not want to hear anything crazy that she does that cause the anxiety here.”

“I will try.”

I knocked her door million times. There was only silence. I turned back against the door and the handle clicked.

           “Come in.”

She guided me to the bed, ordering me to stay there just like the two gothic pillows she owned and sat next to me. Flat facial expression was straight on my face.

           “What would you feel if you heard a sound full of hatred yet you don’t know where it comes from?”

           “What do you mean? What is going on?”

“It is the third day since I have been disturbed by this sound that haunts me wherever I go.”

“What sound?”

“It’s a part of Swan Lake from a broken music box that keeps playing on repeat. It sounds thrilling, I can feel it through my veins. It won’t let go of me,” she hold my hands, “what should I do?”

“I will do anything to help you,” I said, holding her hands back, “anything that helps you to find your peace of mind.”

She released my hands, walking to the corner of her room, standing next to the drawer. She placed both of her palms on the wall and suddenly banged her head to it, hard. I gasped and ran to her but I was late to prevent her banging her head again for the second time. This time she collapsed on the ground with the blood running from her head. I was kind of losing my mind back then, I could not think of anything. Thankfully, the owner of the boarding house came and broke in the door. We brought her to emergency room at the hospital nearby.

Ecca abandoned school since then. Aside from bed resting as a part of her recovery, she also felt that the sound has gotten more frightening that made her feel like threatened to death.

“This sound,” she said to me when I came to her, “needs to go away..”

She banged her head to the wall many times. Since her mental condition had gotten worse, nurses had her chained to the bed. Her parents came to visit her but soon left because she cursed and asked them to. They begged me to ‘bring back their one and only Ecca’. Thus I stayed next to her bed, watching her covering ears and cried her lungs out. I got up and hugged her.

“Let’s end this torture together, Ecca. We can do it. We have to do it.”

“Tell me how!” She kept screaming, “You can’t do anything at all! You don’t know what it feels like!”

I hugged her tighter. I whispered, “I don’t, but seeing you like this torture me too. Please stop hurting yourself and everyone who loves you. All of this needs to stop.”

She stopped trying to release my embrace and said, “You said you wanna help, didn’t you?”

“Anything,” I answered. “Even if it kills me.”

“...and if it kills me too?”

I released my hug and exchanged stares with her, “What do you mean?”

She smiled, “I know what you should do if you really want to help.” She shook both of her chained hands, making jingling sounds.

My heart skipped a beat. It was excited for some reason. I couldn’t help but lean closer to her to hear her whisper on my ears.

“Take this pillow under my head.”

I did what she ordered me to do, carefully.

She smiled and whispered more quietly, “Push  it against me. Hard. From one side of my ear to another.”

I was stoned. Is this really happening?--I asked myself that time and I stepped closer and looked at her face for the last time before I covered it with the pillow.

“Do. It. Now!” she screamed. “Don’t make me....”

I pushed the pillow to her face with the strongest power I could give before she finished what she was trying to say. I heard her screaming ‘Harder!’ and I did as she commanded.

Minutes passed. The clock was ticking. Ticking.

I did not hear anything from her anymore. I sighed and released the grip from the pillow and sat down next to the bed. I saw her laying there with her mouth and eyes wide open.

I did my best to let her find peace of mind. I told you I care for her, always have and always will.  That was all she wanted. She asked for it. She really did. I smiled a victorious smile. Victorious, since everything went how I wanted. I went slowly to the door and before I opened it, I said a warm goodbye to my beloved friend, “R.I.P”.

I went to her room to take my heroic music box away.  How heroic it is that it can make the smartest student at the department drowned in horror, hallucination and begged for death to stop it. There would not be praise for her anymore. There would not be anyone who can do better than me.

There would only be Muji.

cc: tyasHantia