An Eternity of Eclipse (37 page)

“Oh man,” I groaned pitifully, the blush on my face turning a million shades of red. “You guys sure know how to make a girl feel uncomfortable.”

No matter how awkward I felt, I had to admit I was feeling warm inside as well. It felt liberating to genuinely be part of a conversation with these girls as opposed to pretending to be interested. It felt nice to feel included and to feel like I really had friends, if only momentarily.  

“Are you excited for the Fall Break coming up, Grace?” Ara asked moments later, effectively reminding me why I would never truly be friends with any of them. “Are you going to see your family?”

“Yeah!” I easily lied once I was reminded of the four-day weekend that was coming up for our school. I felt my walls raise back up, reminding me that none of these girls would ever know me for who I really was. We were not and will never truly be “friends.” I feigned a relieved smile at the thought of “seeing my family” again.

“I’m really excited. I haven’t seen them in so long and I can’t wait to hang out with them again!” I faked a hearty laugh before shining the spotlight back on them. “What are your plans for the break?”

The girls were about to share their plans when Dawn’s shocked voice swam into our ears and garnered our undivided attention.

“Hey girls, check this out,” she prompted from her computer. “My God, this kid is seriously disturbed, isn’t she?”

Curious as to what she was referring to, the girls and I immediately hopped off our stools and flocked around her. We leaned forward to gaze at her computer monitor to see what she was talking about. Once I saw the contents of what was on the screen, I felt terror freeze my blood.

Crime scenes.

Crime scene photos from a bedroom.

Crime scene photos from a murder.

Crime scene photos from the bedroom where
I
murdered my parents.

Oh my God . . .

“Hey, I’ve heard of this,” Missy murmured as the girls’ eyes grew wide when they realized how infamous this crime was.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of this too,” said Kina. Beside me, Ara added, “The ‘six-year-old murderer.’ This was a crazy case.”

As the rest of the girls voiced their agreement, I continued to stand there, absolutely paralyzed.

I couldn’t breathe.

My heart hammered profusely, my eyes unblinking while I gaped at the computer screen.

Slowly, Dawn began to scroll down.

My stunned gaze moved over the article that was written about me, my family, and the murder. There were small thumbnail photos attached to every section of the article and each of these photos caused my stomach to churn. I painfully swallowed past my dry throat, the chills rummaging through my body. I used all the willpower I had to keep my composure.

“What happened to her?” Ara asked after they were done skimming over the contents of the article. The girls were all blissfully oblivious to the storm brewing within me.

“She was convicted and sent to a mental hospital or something,” Dawn answered. She clicked on a link and went to another window. She scanned the new browser. “Apparently on this website, it says that she kept on denying that she killed her family when everyone knew that she did. How crazy is that? I know she was a kid and all, but how screwed up could you be?”

“Yeah,” the girls agreed while I remained silent, traumatized with being forced to face all of this on an unexpected Friday evening.

I had never read an article about myself. I was always afraid to. I was right to be scared because it wasn’t a pleasurable experience by any means. I felt so sick to my stomach that I was surprised I hadn’t thrown up from the nausea alone.

“Their family name is Hwang.” Missy shuddered before turning to me. Her dark-gray circle lenses buried into my eyes. “Doesn’t it freak you out a little that their last name is the same as yours?”

“Yeah, it’s really creepy,” I admitted quietly, staring warily at her. For a paranoid moment, though it would be impossible because there were so many Grace Hwangs in the world (and because I was pretty sure my first name was never revealed to the public), I thought she was going to accuse
me
of being that child. When she didn’t, the nausea stewing inside me quelled slightly.

“Maybe she was possessed,” Ara carelessly suggested from beside me.

“Ara, don’t joke about that stuff!” Missy hissed at once. Fear entrenched in her eyes. “You know how much that scares me.”

“Just because it scares you doesn’t mean that it’s not possible,” Ara continued to speak, her eyes staring at the contents of the browser. “I mean, think about it. How could a girl that small kill her entire family? She must’ve been possessed. Who could be that sadistic? Especially when she was only a child?”

“Maybe the cops made a mistake,” Missy offered, oblivious that in an effort to defend the child, she was actually defending me. “Maybe someone else broke in and killed them and then framed the poor little girl.”

“It was rumored that police officers walked in and saw her stabbing her mom’s body,” said Dawn, reading some of the comments off the article and rendering Missy’s attempts to defend me futile.

“Why are we looking at this anyway?” Kina chided sharply.

In a rare moment, I felt thankful that she was there. I was actually grateful that both Missy and Kina were there because the enormity of looking at these articles had a stronger effect on me than I could’ve ever anticipated. I wanted Dawn to close the browser, and I hoped Missy and Kina would succeed in getting her to do just that.

“Yeah,” Missy agreed, looking at Kina and then to the computer screen. She frowned and casted a reproving look towards Dawn. “How did you stumble upon this article anyway, Dawn?”

“One of our law professors is having us look at some bizarre and crazy cases so we can have a discussion about it in class,” Ara answered for Dawn. “We’re trying to find the most disturbing one and I can’t believe Dawn and I forgot about the child murderer.” Ara turned away from the computer and spared a glance at me. Horror clutched her features. “Oh my God. Grace, are you okay?” she cried upon seeing my ashen face. “You’re so pale!”

“I-I’m fine,” I said shakily, snapping out of my daze.

“Why wouldn’t she be pale?” Kina answered angrily for me. “Even I’m freaked out and I usually never get creeped out by things. Just close it. You guys sure know how to ruin a perfectly nice Friday evening.”

“Fine, fine,” Dawn murmured, closing the window. “It’s just so strange. I wonder where the kid is now.”

“Probably in a mental hospital where she belongs,” Kina muttered before roughly nudging me to shake me out of my reverie. “There. They closed it. Stop being such a chicken.”

I nodded at her, my eyes pulsing with relief. At the sight of me being okay and the color returning to my face, Kina gave me a small glare that pretty much said, “You’re lucky I feel like being nice today because you’re pathetic” and went back to being the self-righteous bitch she had always been. Under this circumstance though, I didn’t mind because she was the reason why they stopped talking about the article and she was the reason I was able to breathe again.
For today, thank you, Kina, for saving me . . .

After the rest of the girls settled down and began to have menial conversations about school, I still felt disconcerted, so much so that I knew I had to rectify this. After allowing a few minutes of small, useless talk to pass between the girls, I pretended to look at the time. I looked at Ara who was now quietly reading and highlighting her law book.

“Ara, my shift is nearly over. I’m going to go categorize the books and clean the study rooms before I go.”

Ara smiled warmly at me and waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s okay, Grace. I can do it. Just go ahead and study.” A coy smile curved her glossy red lips. “I want you and that Eclipse guy to have plenty of time to hang out this weekend, so just try to get all your work done now.”

“No, it’s okay,” I assured her, briefly glad that she was so considerate. However touched I was, I couldn’t be swayed from my original task. I got up and gestured a hand of dismissal of my own. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m done with my work. You guys just study. I’ll take care of it.”

I left the girls and hurried to the back, pushing the rolling cart that was overflowing with returned books. I took a few minutes to visibly categorize books in front of the girls, watching them as they spoke about their church events for the weekend. When I was certain they had forgotten about me, I steered the rolling cart away from their vantage points and snuck into a study room where I was given full privacy to do what I needed to do.

Click.

Once inside, I closed the door, turned on the lights, and ran over to the computer sitting atop the black study table. Even within the walls of the small study room, I could hear the girls chatting softly up front. Relieved that they were oblivious that I was in here, I took in a deep breath and logged onto the computer, doing what I wanted to do moments prior: read all the articles about the horrendous crime I committed.

I was never brave enough to read any of this before—I didn’t find it necessary to relive the most miserable time of my life through these articles—but now that the girls had inadvertently unearthed all of this, I knew I could no longer escape the curiosity that plagued me. I wanted to read everything that had to do with me and I wanted to know everything I could about the murder. I couldn’t run from it anymore; I had to face it head-on.

Warily, I typed the words into the search bar: “Six-year-old murderer” South Korea.

It felt as though I was having an out-of-body experience as I began to click through all the links that generated on the search engine.

I read articles, I went to forums, I went to various websites, and I had never felt more enlightened and hurt at the same time. People were calling me sick, they said that I was a “psychotic little bitch” who should be locked up for life, and they said that I was a possessed child from Hell.

The shame that consumed me was unbelievable.

It was agonizing to read and to take in. I may not care about my family, but I was as selfish as they come. Reading all the cruel things people were writing about me had a bigger impact on me than I could’ve ever imagined. Then, against my better instincts, I persevered past my hurt feelings and went to the website that had the crime scene photos.

I wanted to look.

I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Once I was exposed to all the uncensored photos that a government employee had leaked onto the internet, I had to cover my mouth to keep from throwing up.

The thumbnails I saw earlier were nothing compared to these high-quality, full-sized pictures. I groaned quietly to myself, swallowing past the bile rising in my throat while my eyes scanned through every image plastered on the screen.

I now understood why people were saying such malicious and cruel things about me.

Everything that lay before me was the epitome of evil in its rawest form.

There were photos of my mother dead in her bed with her throat slit and multiple stab wounds on her body . . . There were photos of my father on the floor with a bullet to his forehead and stab wounds on his body as well. His eyes were open—it was as if the last thing he experienced was shock, dismay, and horror . . . There were photos of my brother laying facedown in the hall, a bullet to the back of his head, stab wounds on his body, and blood pooling around his pajamas . . . Then, I saw the last photos . . . photos of my older sister laying among the clothes in her closet. There was a bullet wound on her stomach and stab wounds on her chest.

What was different about these series of photos was what I noticed in the background. Beside all the blood-soaked clothes, buried underneath my sister’s dead body, you could see presents that she had hidden for someone’s birthday. I inched closer to the screen to read one of the labels on the presents. My heart plummeted to my stomach when I read what she had written on the pink stationary label.

Happy 6
th
Birthday, Grace Bear! Big sis loves you!

I bit my lower lip. I tried so hard to remember what happened that night while I gazed emotionlessly at the pictures of my dead family.

I didn’t understand.

How could I forget something so horrible?

How could I forget how I killed them?

How could I, to this day, not have any emotions for these people who were my family? My
only
family?

How did I become like this?

What was wrong with me?

I didn’t understand, and at that moment, I had never wanted to understand more in my life.

"And the world shall know true power."
25
: Stolen

I did not think it was physically possible for me to run down the stairs with so much alacrity. I ran down step after step without so much as holding onto the railing. I was in every possible danger of falling to my demise, but none of that mattered. Why would gravity matter when my very sanity was hanging on by a thread?

After my shift ended, I tried to act as normally as I could around the girls. I packed up slowly and initiated small conversations. Then, I warmly wished them all a good weekend before I threw my bag over my shoulder and meandered out the door. On the outside, I appeared calm, but internally, mayhem plagued me. It wasn’t until I reached the staircase that my outer appearance reflected the hailstorm ravaging my insides. In a split second, I took off down the stairs with the world blurring around me.

All I wanted was to see Eclipse. I wanted him to bring order to the chaos wreaking havoc within me. All I wanted was for him to shed some light on the darkness I had been encased in for so long . . .

“I want to remember what happened that night.”

I couldn’t have gotten to the point faster when I sprung out of the library exit like an unstoppable bull. My lungs were gasping for air and my face was burning with heat. I imagined I didn’t look completely put together when I approached him.

Eclipse canted his head at me while allowing smoke to slither away from him. He wore a curious expression on his face as he observed me. He was perched against a marble column beside the library, smoking freely while waiting for me to get off work.

“I thought you didn’t give a damn,” he voiced, straightening himself up. He pushed off from the column behind him and approached me. There was a devious glint in his eyes, one that you’d imagine the Devil would possess when he finally saw the opportunity to find out what someone’s cost was. Other than my obvious obsession with good grades and my looks, I deduced that me coming up to him with such desperation in my eyes was something that greatly excited the Demon. He was still trying to figure out what the cost for my soul was—my desperation couldn’t have come at a better time.

His vigilant eyes glanced over to the graduate library. Though there was no one present on the staircase behind the window, it was clear that he wanted to ensure our privacy for this conversation. Silently inclining his head for me to follow him, Eclipse began to walk towards the graduate school’s rose garden. Even from where we were walking, I could see that the luscious green garden was completely abandoned. Night had fallen and the dark clouds loomed above, promising a torrent of rain. The weather mirrored the storm brewing inside me.

“Why are you suddenly asking me for help on this? You never seemed to care in the first place.”

“I’m curious now,” I retorted quickly, following him like a shadow. Although the walk towards the massive garden was quick, every second felt like an extended eternity. I peered up at him, my eyes imploring his as the dried leaves crackled beneath our shoes. “Can you help me remember?”

“I don’t know,” he breathed out briskly, flicking his cigarette away into one of the fountains adorning the pebbled pathway we were treading on.

We stopped underneath the white marble pergola built in the center of the garden. Eight regal pillars surrounded the pergola, while a dark, rounded iron ceiling kept it shielded.

My gaze took in the expanse of the garden.

This particular courtyard was typically a perfect hotspot for students to relax in during the summer. During the fall and winter seasons when rain was frequent, the pergola was usually abandoned, as the iron ceiling was not always conducive to protect someone from rain. That made it the perfect spot for our intimate speaking area.

“What’s in it for me?” Eclipse quickly questioned, his business-like voice merging with the sound of billowing wind.

We were stationed beside a white fountain that had a statue of a large serpent. Water sprouted from the serpent’s mouth, intermingling with the cold wind. I could hear the water trickling away as I gazed at Eclipse with earnest eyes.

“You can’t do me a favor and help me out this once?”

He smirked lightly, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Do I look like a bastion of goodwill to you?”

“You were nice enough to give me the handbag and shoes,” I reminded him. Then, I quietly added, “And that blue rose . . .”

“Those were gifts,” he countered, his voice soft. As much as he seemingly loved the fact that I was at his mercy for this request, he was considerate enough to be gentle with me.

He smiled briefly, and for some reason, I surmised that he was amused I brought up the blue rose. Giving me no insight as to whether or not my assumption was correct, he continued his thoughts.

“Gifts that I would very much love to shower you with in the future. However, as I mentioned earlier, my needs to spoil you aside, I have an existence to protect. You wanting something of this magnitude would require an exchange rather than a kind favor.”

“Magnitude?” I arched a brow of inquiry, already feeling resentment that he wouldn’t grant me this favor. “How much power does it take to help me remember something when I was six-years-old?”

“Not much if I had all my powers,” he explained stiffly, his princely pride ticked off upon being reminded of his current pathetic state. “But in my condition now, conjuring up lost memories would result in a lot of wasted energy. You already know that I’m doing everything I can to conserve the power I have for more important matters. Wasting a portion of that power without getting something of value in return doesn’t appeal to me.”

“I’m not giving you my soul,” I reiterated, knowing exactly why he was making this such a big ordeal. I wanted to remember what happened, but it wasn’t worth my soul. Who in their right mind would give up their soul for a piece of a lost memory? I wasn’t
that
desperate.

“You wanted this enough to come to me for help,” he reminded swiftly. He took a second to study me, his eyes scrutinizing mine before another light of curiosity touched his visage. “Tell me what changed your mind.”

I remained quiet. For a protective moment, I considered not revealing the truth. When I reasoned that he would not help me if I remained secretive, I finally gave in.

“The only thing that has defined my existence is what happened that night,” I began slowly, using all the control I had to keep my voice from wavering.

The emotions concerning my impending death and fucked up past began to hit me, and I tried my best to keep my composure.

“I am
dying
soon.” I kept my eyes solidified on the trickling fountain behind him. I did not want Eclipse to see the poignant emotions in my normally impassive eyes. “I’m dying soon and I want to know what happened that night so that I’ll have peace, so I won’t feel like I have any unfinished business left. If I don’t have a future to look forward to, then I at least want closure from my past.”

Long moments passed between us before I felt something comforting touch my face. I belatedly realized that Eclipse had placed his warm hand on my cheek, claiming my attention and holding my eyes captive with his. 

“You
will
owe me, Teacup,” he told me inflexibly, his gaze still gentle. He didn’t look pleased that he had to compromise when he had the upper hand. His frustrated gaze didn’t hide the bitterness he felt with himself. The only reason why he was yielding his power was to make me feel better. “I will not require your soul for this, but you will be in my debt. I’m doing you a favor, and in the future, should I need a favor returned, you will return it to me.”

“What favor will I owe you?” the equally business-minded person in me asked.

He simply smiled enigmatically, bringing his hand down with an unreadable expression on his face. He dismissed my query with an impatient prompt of his own. “Do we have a deal or not?”

At times like these, I understood all too well why Eclipse was the son of the Devil. He knew my cost, and he wasn’t about to waver from it. Concessions and compromises could be given to desperate souls, but a Demon would never give you a freebie. It did not matter how much you pleaded. It was against their upbringing to show such consideration; it was against their nature to be so humane.  

I frowned, pondering to myself.

I reasoned that if I was dying soon, then there was little favor he could get out of me. There were so many variables, so many ways in which he could screw me over, but my desperation to find out the secrets of my past was eating me alive. I was too simpleminded then. All that mattered was keeping my soul. The rest were compromises I was willing to make. Aside from my soul, I couldn’t imagine anything of value that he’d want from a human like me. What could he ask from me if I was dying soon, right?

“Deal,” I said slowly and clearly.

As soon as I agreed, I felt a tiny spark of fire ignite on my tongue. I knew that this was the signing of the deal. The Demon and I had given each other our words, and I couldn’t take it back even if I wanted to.

“Just out of curiosity,” I began uneasily, tasting the burn of the sizzling fire before the sensation eventually died on the nerves of my tongue, “what would happen if I didn’t keep my word?”

“Nothing,” he replied. His easygoing tone conveyed that he was unconcerned by the possible shadiness I could display in the future. “That spark on your tongue means that I have taken a portion of your will. Whatever I ask for, you will give it to me. You do not have a choice in the matter.”

“What favor do you want from me?” I asked once I registered that there was absolutely no turning back for me. I couldn’t be shady even if I wanted to.

He shrugged indifferently, tipping his head towards me in amusement. “I haven’t considered it yet, but I know that any favor from you would be a valuable commodity for me to have. I’ll let you know in the future once I’ve figured it out. In any case,” he prompted productively, charm swimming under the professional tone of his voice, “should we get started, Teacup?”

I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling very nervous while I peered up at him. I anxiously fidgeted with my gold bangles as the cold wind coursed all around me, bringing forth the scent of roses and the promise of rain.

“What do I do?” I asked. “Should I close my eyes and let you hypnotize me or something?”

He shook his head. “No effort is needed on your part. At this point, it’s all me.” He smiled and then added, “Just try to keep your mind clear, alright?”

I nodded and then . . . we began.

Extending his right hand out, Eclipse placed his warm hand to the side of my face, cradling my left cheek with his palm and gently touching my temple with his fingers. I couldn’t help but feel affected by the gentleness in his simple touch, but I ushered that thought aside in an effort to keep my mind clear. While the heat from my body percolated with his, Eclipse granted himself one more look at me before closing his eyes and falling completely silent.

Though it had only been a short while since Eclipse had fallen into his deep meditative state, I could already feel a certain change take place in our environment.

The wind billowing around us began to pick up gradually, as if trying to gather something up from the eerily quiet rose garden. The sounds of trickling water from the fountain were seemingly becoming louder. It was as though the rhythmic sound of water spilling into the fountain was calling out to the dark clouds for attention—for assistance. And finally, the most prevalent and bone-chilling anomaly of all . . . In a matter of seconds, the temperature around us plunged dramatically, leaving me to shiver. It became so unnerving that I could feel the warm air being sucked out by the ground beneath us. Once the velocity of the wind began to accelerate, once the sounds of trickling water began to deafen my eardrums, and once the world began to get so cold that I thought I’d die from hypothermia, something interrupted it all.

The wind stopped blowing, the water stopped trickling, and the cold air ceased to exist. The whole world stopped breathing at the same time.

All that was left in my world was complete and utter silence.

While all of this transpired, I continued to stare at Eclipse. He was as motionless as a flawless marble statue. His eyes were still closed and other than his soft breaths and the warmth of his body, there were no other indications that he was alive. Yet, no matter how inanimate he appeared standing before me, he was quite animate within the confines of my mind. 

I could literally feel him running through the maze in my head, attempting to find the suppressed memories buried within my mind. It was an odd sensation to feel this powerful force intruding on such a sacred ground like my mind. However odd it felt, I didn’t feel any pain. This surprised me greatly because judging by the complexities of this powerful force pivoting through the labyrinth of my mind, I knew that this process could have easily been excruciating. It was akin to setting a bull loose. There should’ve been destruction and calamity. There should’ve been mind-splitting pain, yet the most I felt was a breath of air streaming through me like a cold draft.