Read Nature's Revenge: Between Heaven and Hell :: Finale

I slammed my hand on the alarm before it could go off.

I looked beside me with deep circles under my eyes and a frown that I had worn so often that it had practically become my at-rest expression.

I placed a hand on the empty space next to me and stared at it for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed—the hardest part of the day.

I grabbed my waitressing uniform from the closet and headed to the shower in silence.

I stood there and stared blankly at the shower head as it sprayed my eyes.

I could have sworn that I felt the ghost of a hand on my hip and I giggled delightedly. When I turned around, however, no one was there.

I lowered my eyes and sank to the floor—letting the shower spray my back instead.

I pulled on my uniform after toweling off and looked in the mirror blankly.

I sniffled and, with shaking hands, tied the plaid bow in my hair.

I poured a regular customer, Sam, a hot cup of coffee and he noticed the plaid ribbon in my hair. “Oh, happy Birthday, Robin.”

I raised an eyebrow. “How did you know it was my Birthday?”

“You always wear that ribbon on your Birthday.” He answered. “You told me about it.”

“I suppose I did.” I replied with a forced smile.

“How old are you now? Thirty-three?” The customer asked.

I shook my head—wondering if he were merely flattering me. “Forty-two.”

“You know, I have a son about your age. Maybe I should match you up?” Sam suggested. “I swear you’re the best waitress I know.”

I shook my head with a smile. “I’m sure there’s better women than me out there for him.”

The man’s eyes locked onto my wedding ring for a moment, and deep down, I had a feeling he knew that my spouse had died, but he was compassionate and understanding. “Well, if you ever want his phone number, I can give it to you.”

I nodded in response.

My blood was freezing.

I tried to ignore the gleaming eyes in the darkness behind Sam by quickly turning away from them.

To give myself a needed break, I headed to the bathroom.

I looked myself in the eyes and watched tears spill from them. Mascara ran relentlessly down my cheeks.

Everything was so wonderful for us… Except toward the end.

Asher had written dozens of more stories and tried to get them published, but no publisher nor agent was interested in them.

“We’re running out of money, Asher! We can’t pay your medical bills and you get worse by the day…” My hair was disheveled as he laid, pale-faced in bed, trying to hammer out his next bestseller.

Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I kept my hands planted firmly on my hips. “We’re going to lose the house while you… While you hopelessly waste your time writing.”

I had gone back to work as a nurse for a time because we needed the cash. My back hurt, my feet hurt, and my head hurt from working all day.

“This one is going to sell, I know it.” Asher said determinedly.

I bit my bottom lip and rolled my eyes heavenward. “Maybe they just don’t… Maybe your work just isn’t very good.” I said through choked tears. “Maybe you should have learned that while you were well enough to still be working.”

Asher looked incredibly ashamed.

He was so ashamed he couldn’t even look me in the eye.

“I’m sorry I’m such a burden. I wanted to give you a castle, but I think I made you a tower instead. I should have committed myself to a normal job. This was the only thing I wanted to do, but I was never good enough at it to give you everything you deserved. I’m so sorry.”

I came back to reality and wiped away the tears that wouldn’t stop spilling from my eyes with the back of my hand.

Just like those monsters I refused to discuss with him, I refused to address those hidden monsters in our marriage until it was too late.

I never let us talk about the well, about how badly I wanted a child, about my physical insecurities, about money, or about my desire for him to get a regular job.

I should have let him die in peace and been his loving wife at the end; there was no reason to bring up my criticisms when they didn’t matter anymore.

He had died a sad and broken man and it was all my fault.

I lied before.

“I loved everything you ever wrote; I read it over and over again.” I whispered. “You were brilliant… You could make anything beautiful through your writing. Even me.”

On my way home, I walked past dozens of bodies—all who had been claimed by melancholia.

I was amazed by just how much the rates of humans claimed by melancholia had risen since I was a kid.

The human population had thinned considerably.

Asher’s voice echoed in my head.

We can’t just continue to stand idly by while those monsters continue to claim more and more lives each year. How can you be content with life when we’re the only ones who can possibly stop this?

I heard a creaking behind me as I walked past the cold bodies in the even colder streets; it could have been the creaking of a branch in the howling wind.

Or it could have been a monster.

My pace quickened.

I turned the lights on in our empty house.

It seemed to be missing a soul without Asher there to greet me.

Welcome home. I felt the ghost of kiss brush my cheek.

I hung my purse on the back of a chair and charged up the stairs.

I tried to ignore the monsters lurking in every dark corner of the house.

I changed into my nightgown and I put on old, black-and-white movies—the kind Asher loved; the kind that would inspire him to write.

There had to be noise, or all I would hear and see would be monsters.

I’d been trying to finish Asher’s last, unfinished novel by myself.

I’ll make those smug publishers see how great he was. I thought to myself with tears in my eyes.

I worked on the novel until it became impossible to work on it.

The room turned icy cold. My abdomen began to hurt.

The hellish racket of the ball was at the edge of my hearing.

Pong…

This time, I did not see the well flash in time with the sound of the ball.

The monsters began slipping out of the corners of the bedroom.

They were ugly shadows making uglier sounds.

They closed in on me.

I clamped my hands to my ears.

Flashes of everything that had gone wrong in my life pulsed in time with the noise that cracked my head in two.

Dad singing me to sleep and then leaving. My bickering with Asher when we were children and telling him to leave me alone. My sub-par grade point average; all my arguments with Asher during our marriage that I had let fester there like I had the monsters in the well.

My mind flashed between these memories like a headache that would not go away until finally, it rested on one just as the monsters were about to grab me.

One that I had buried, because I had to in order to live under Mom’s roof.

I sat curled up on my bed.

Dad knocked on my door when mom had left me to my tears.

“Robin? Can I come in?” Dad asked with concern in his voice.

I let my sobs answer for me.

Dad wasn’t deterred, however. He pushed the door open and plopped down next to me. “Why the tears, button?”

“I-I told my best friend at school that I wasn’t a girl in the way she was, and she told the whole school.” I answered shakily. “Now everyone knows.”

Dad frowned and then took me into his arms. “Robin, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks—you won’t ever need their approval so long as you have your own. Besides, to me, you’ll always represent the best of both worlds, and I never want you to forget any part of yourself—even though it’s plain to see that you’re the most beautiful princess who ever lived! Don’t forget that. Not ever. Even if you never see me again.”

I looked at him with wide eyes and my tears stopped.

Dad handed me a pair of colorful, orange scissors. “Your mom doesn’t like it short, but I know you do. You should cut it.”

And I never saw him again.

He had gone to battle his own monsters in that well.

I came back to reality and dried my eyes with a look of realization dawning on my face.

“I forgot. I’m sorry Daddy.”

I had buried so many monsters from my past. I would do so no longer.

I was wrong the whole time, after all.

Men were not devils; they couldn’t be, because Asher was one of them.

My abnormality was not a prank pulled by nature; it was a divine gift from God. Anything done with such precision could not be a mistake in nature.

That’s why the monsters had tried to desperately to get rid of me; I was chosen to get rid of them.

I lifted my chin with a smile.

I could be the best of both worlds.

For what may have been the first time in my life, I put on a pair of pants, and then bought myself a plane ticket.

I packed dad’s scissors in one of my bags.

I was falling down the well again. But this time, I did it with purpose.

My fingers were freezing as they collided with the dirt at the bottom of the well. My legs felt rigid as I lifted myself to my feet.

The icy cold hand of panic gripped my heart.

There were dozens of shadows being cast upon the wall rocky walls. All were of alien shapes and sizes.

All lurked behind me.

The sounds they made reverberated throughout the cavern.

Click, click, click.

Shhk, shhk, shhk.

The spiral demon approached.

I tried to move my legs, but they refused.

Freezing, sharp fingers dug into my shoulders.

I was paralyzed like I was when I was a child—like when I had watched Asher’s arm being eaten.

Robin.

Robin.

I crumpled to my knees. My heart froze over.

I felt the sharp knives slowly cutting downward through my shoulder. Blood warmed my freezing shoulders.

Robin! Stand up! It can’t control you any longer!

I came back to reality and climbed back to my feet—ignoring the searing pain of the knives being dragged through my shoulders.

I turned around and faced the creature.

I looked the lopsided face of the monster square in the eyes.

I grabbed the pair of scissors from my pocket and slammed it into the creature’s head—light bursting from its wound--cracks made of light spreading throughout its whole body.

The creature shrieked and sliced me across the torso and above my head.

The ribbon was cut from my hair.

My eyes were glazing over but had not glazed over completely.

I stared at the bow that had been severed from my head.

I reached for it with a strong hand and tears in my eyes.

Another hand appeared on top of mine—soft, beautiful, and angelic.

“Shall we go home?”

I smiled dazedly and nodded.

At long last, I finally understood why people loved going home so much.