You can't remember what you were doing.
I look around your brain feeling fuzzy. Rubbing a hand over my eyes and letting out a quiet groan I turn my head away from The Hanging Man and look over to the man standing next to me. The man with brown hair pulled back in ponytail admires a painting of a girl running and looking behind her. Turning away from the painting I begin to walk around the white halls of the gallery. People mull around talking quietly and looking at the various works of Guertena. I feel a shiver run down my spine as I pass The Lady in Red and quicken my pace. Heading down another hall I pass by various sculptures and look at them with a feeling of apprehension. Calm down Garry I tell myself pushing a hand through my purple hair. It's getting late; I think and begin to make my way to the stairs. As I walk down the hall a headache begins to form and I rub at my head letting out another groan. I was hoping to stop at that new café before going home with this headache it was becoming debatable however.
Suddenly I stop and look to my right. I take a deep breath and feel my eyes widen at the painting. It's a young girl, maybe nine, lying against the wall as if sleeping. She has a torn up blue coat draped over her as if a blanket or when they prepare to drape a sheet over the dead. Shoulder length brown hair is fanned out beneath her head and choppy bangs hang over the young girl's eyes. My chest tightens and I suddenly can't breathe. Feeling a wave of sadness wash over my I cast my eyes downward and turn from the painting. Walking away I stick my hands in my jean pockets and let out a shuddering breath. Wait a second… I pull something out of my pocket, something incredibly soft and lacy. It's a handkerchief. What's this… when did I get this?
I unfold the handkerchief and look it over, in the corner in red is embroidered Ib. Ib, do I know an Ib?
"Ib!" I yell falling to my knees as the small girl slumps over. Her shoulder hits the wall and she slides down panting. She looks pale, paler than usual, and her crimson eyes begin to flutter shut. "Ib!" I scoop her up into my arms and stand back up, turning I begin to race down the dark hallway the direction where Mary ran off. Was Mary doing this? 'I should have given her my rose!' Before I had the chance to barter my rose to get back Ib's Mary had run off saying that she liked the color red. I race down the hall and hear a childish laughter.
"She loves me! She loves me not!" I look down in time to spot a red petal on the ground. Coming to a stop I pant and look down to Ib; she isn't moving.
"Ib?" I ask quietly voice breaking, she doesn't respond and her head lolls back in my arms. I feel tears pour down my cheeks as I fall back to my knees. "I-Ib" I stutter my voice is hoarse and I can't see anything through the tears. She feels so light in my arms and I give her a little shake; she'll wake up right? I begin to cry harder and louder cradling the younger girl closer to me. She'll wake up, she'll wake up, she'll wake up I repeat this mantra in my head and sob louder.
I need to get her rose back.
I feel a tear slide down my face and I stumble forward a little. Yes….I knew…an…Ib….
I set Ib down carefully on the floor and shrug off my coat, draping it carefully over her, like I had when she was sleeping earlier, and stand up.
"Don't worry I-Ib; I'll get your rose back so stay here for a second okay?" I back away slowly and hear something crack beneath my foot. Looking down I lift my foot and sniffle, it's a red petal. My chest tightens and I can barely see through the tears that are pouring down my cheeks and neck. I wipe at them with a thin wrist and stumble onwards towards Mary. I place a hand on the midnight blue wall to help guide me and try to breathe, she's just sleeping, she's just sleeping, she's just sleeping. If I get her rose back soon I'll be able to wake her. I turn the corner and walk up the steps. The world tilts around me and I slam into the stairs feeling what little air I had rush though my lungs.
"She loves me! She loves me not!" I can hear Mary's cheerful voice from above and pull myself up. My body feels weak and I stumble up the stairs and turn the corner in the now pink room. "She loves me!" A red petal flutters to the ground joining the other two and I fall to my knees again. Mary stands and lets a stem fall from her hand; she turns to some stairs leading below and walks down them without a care in the world. I crawl forward and scoop up the stem only seeing green in my watery vision. 'I have to find a vase!' I stand up and turn to run down the stairs to where Ib is sleeping.
I stumble down the stairs again and run to where Ib is. 'a vase, a vase, a vase, a vase. I pass by Ib and fall back to my knees cradling the stem in my hand. To her left barely covered by my coat is something red. I gingerly pick it up and try to stick it back on the stem. I miss the first few times not being able to see properly through the tears. Once I hit the stem the petal won't connect and I let out a wail. I drop the stem and pull Ib closer to me again. Her body's cold and her arms drag on the floor as I hold her closer to my chest. Out of the corner of my eye I see something slip out of her pocket and I reach for it. It's a handkerchief. I let out another wail and bring it closer to my chest.
I don't know how long I stay clutching Ib for time is distorted here, but eventually I lay her back down and drape my coat back over her, she'll need it more than me. I turn and clutch at her handkerchief, Mary did this and I felt a rage take over. I grit my teeth and turned back to my coat. Digging through my pockets I pull out a lighter and give one last glance to Ib. I push some bangs from her closed eyes and stand back up.
Sprinting down the hall I turn and take two stairs back to the pink room. I pant slightly and look around; there are the stairs leading down and vines covering more stairs. Feeling a sense of curiosity flare up in the anger I walk to the vines and feel them. They aren't stone like the ones from earlier and felt burnable. I pull my lighter out and give it a few clicks; finally after a few clicks the pilot lights and the vines burst into flames. Amidst the noise of dying flames I think I can hear footsteps and I walk forwards. The stairs lead to another pink room. On the far wall is a painting with shards of glass lying all around the floor. Books and mannequin heads lie on the floor along with various sheets of paper. The footsteps become louder and I feel a smile work its way onto my face. Turning I see Mary running forward. My jaw clenches and the grip on my lighter tightens.
"Who's there?" Mary questions eyes wide in confusion. Her face darkens and she tightens her hands into fists "Garry, you survived? How did you get into this room?" I stay silent and take a step back. The tears have long since stopped and now rage fuels me, she killed Ib. "Leave right now! NOW! NOW! NOW! LEEEAAAAAVVVVVVVVVVEEEE!" She screams and brandishes a pallet knife. The ground beneath her cracks and shines with a red light. She begins to run forward and I turn and run towards the back. I stop before the painting; it's hers with her standing amidst a field of yellow roses, and try to light my lighter. The painting begins to burn and I turn at the sound of an anguished scream.
"Please! Stop!" The painting begins to burn more and the room fills with the sound of paper burning and glass cracking. "Ah…No…." Mary cries and takes a step back. My eyes begin to water again and I watch as she drops the pallet knife and turns into ashes. The pallet knife clinks against the floor by a pile of ashes and I sink to the floor and let the lighter fall from my hands. I begin to sob more and clutch at my head as the tears fall. I let my sobs fill the room and feel my chest ache and twist with each cry. I don't know how long I cry there either, but eventually I stand and drag myself towards the door.
I head out the room and down the stairs Mary ran down earlier and try to make my way down through my tears. I have an immense headache and a heart that won't stop squeezing every millisecond. I pull my rose out and stop lean against the wall. I'm at the end of the stairs and I stare at the thing. Did I deserve to even get out, after I let Ib die? She's not sleeping, she's not sleeping, she's not sleeping. I raise a shaking hand and grab at one of the petals, I begin to pull a little but right before the petal rips off drop my hand. I was too much a coward. I throw the rose down to the ground and pull out Ib's handkerchief.
"Ib" I mummer her name and clutch it close. More tears slide down my cheek and I let out a chocking breath. Turning from the stairs I begin to walk forward. Stopping I drop my arm to my side and give one last glance to the blue rose lying on the floor. Reaching down I grab it and stuff it back in my pocket. Holding the handkerchief close I drag myself forward down the hall and see a long painting. "Fabricated Gallery…" my voice sounds flat and I look up to the painting, its white and has pictures of the other gallery… this must be the way out.
A bright light envelops the room and I cover my eyes. When I feel as if the light has died down I look back up to see the frame gone. If I jumped through here… would this get me back home? I take a few steps back and hold the handkerchief close to my heart. I rush forward and jump into the painting.
I clutch at the handkerchief in my hand and let out a chocked gasp. Ib! How could I have forgotten about her! I look up at her pale face in the painting and feel the world fall beneath me. My chest tightens and I stumble forward. My eyes begin to water and I try to hold back a chocked cry.
"Ah! Here it is!" A cheerful voice sounds somewhere behind me and I give a sideway glance to a woman dressed in crimson, Ib's mother. I step away from the painting wide eyed at the couple that walk towards the painting. They really do resemble the painting where Ib seemed so haunted. I take another step back from them feeling another tear slip down my cheek. The woman looks over and lets out an oh and tilts her head with a smile. "It's a lovely portrait isn't it," she looks over to Ib's painting still smiling "What do you think of it?" She turns back to me and I hold back another sob.
I back away slowly eyes glued to Ib's mother, Ib resembled her so much with her brown hair and red eyes. The smile slips a little off the woman's face and she faces Ib's father who is still looking at the painting of his daughter. I try to swallow the sadness and feel it squeeze my heart instead making it feel as if I was dying. I should be dead; I let these people's daughter die.
"It's a nice portrait all right, makes me sad" The man frowns and looks over to me a knowing look in his eyes. I try to look away but something keeps me staring at this man who is giving me a sympathetic look. "You shouldn't try to get too emotional over art however," He motions to his wife to leave and I clutch the handkerchief of their dead daughter and let out a shuddering breath. I was crying now feeling the tears slip continuously down my cheeks and as her parent's passed me her father patted me on the shoulder and I let my head hang low.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" my voice cracks and I think I hear their footsteps falter for a moment, but her parents continue to walk on not a single worry on their minds. I'm sorry Ib, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I look over to her portrait, the forgotten portrait, and try to wipe the tears from my vision.
I'm sorry.