Chapter 3
Previously . . .
Ib took out the drawing of the rose that she had made in Art that morning. She looked at the strokes for a second and frowned. It still seemed familiar...Suddenly; she widened her eyes and gasped.
Ib breathed in and out for a few moments, still staring at the rose. Then she laughed at herself – how could she be so stupid? How could she actually believe for a moment that she was in some parallel world of the Guertena gallery with her teacher, Garry, being chased around by mannequins and paintings. It was all just so absurd. She placed her art sketch book on the desk, about to get up when she was flung back onto her bed because of the sheer agony in her head. Invisible hammers smashed at her skull and her eyes filled up with tears. Her breathing shortened to rasps. She tried to scream, but she only let out a small strangled sound. Red spots coloured her room, getting bigger and bigger until the room was engulfed in a pitch-black darkness that was never-ending.
All so absurd, now is it? I feel like that's a challenge... A voice said inside her head – a voice inside her head? This was getting better and better—
"Did you remember everything, Ib?" She heard her mother say. Ib bristled in anger – yes. She was actually going to argue with a voice inside her head. She didn't know why she was acting like this; that voice brought out a different, darker side from the warm-hearted girl she thought she was. The voice was taunting. Mocking. It sneered at her and had access to the very depths of her mind. She hated it.
"That's a classic mother line – you're really not going to prove anything with that—"
'? World. You don't know this word.' Well, I must say, you really didn't know many words then, it drawled, Now, however, I'm sure you do. Fabricated. Fabricated World, a wonder, it said slowly, savouring Ib's confusion.
"Fabricated World; the one you're creating about dolls, roses, keys and whatnot—"
The beauty of irony, don't you think? Ib scoffed, not even thinking to remind herself that she was talking to a voice.
"It isn't irony – and even if it were, how could it be beautiful? And besides, who are you?!"
Silly girl. Don't you remember running away from 'the footsteps with no owners' as you called them? And I must say you have the memory span of a goldfish if you can't bring your little mind to recall the entry into the world, 'Come down below Ib, I'll show you someplace secret.' Certainly learned some things there, didn't you? Oh, and Garry, of course.
"What about him?" Ib asked slowly. Why did Garry have to be involved in this?
Garry has to be involved in this because he was there with you, silly girl, Ib bristled at the insult, Oh, don't take it personally – all girls are silly—
"Right, so you're sexist too." Ib mumbled.
I lived in the 1600s, silly girl. I was brought up with the judgements I have today. Not that talking about me isn't interesting, but I think I was challenging you, now wasn't I? So, where were we? Ah, yes, of course. Your knight in shining armour: Garry. Although, I must say it was rather you who saved him, the damsel in distress. Well, the Lady in Blue rather did like his rose... And then, your realisation, of course, that the roses are everything. They're the embodiments of your spirit and very soul. You realised that when Garry said, 'Wounds appear on me when my rose loses its petals.' Didn't you? Maybe you're not so silly, silly girl.
"Well how about you stop calling me silly, then?" Ib said. She had to pick on something; because this couldn't be happening. She was talking to try and remind herself that this couldn't possibly be real. This 'Fabricated World' was only the one of her mind, and not physically real.
Oh, don't ruin this. I've been six feet under for centuries; this is the most fun I've had in a while.
"You mean, this is a message from beyond the grave?" Things were still just getting better.
Scared are we? That an old ghost like me has come to haunt you? Well then too bad. Deal with it; I'm not leaving any time soon. I'd like to tell you that I've yet to achieve my goal of making you realise that you are a very stubborn little girl who can't realise the truth. Hm. You don't seem very convinced; I'm afraid I'm going to have to make things emotional. I've always hated sentimentality; it clouds the path of true judgement and logic. But I am rather sure it will work on you.
"If there really was this 'fabricated world'," Ib made sure to sneer this, "with mannequins chasing me around, you'd be rather hard-pressed to find a moment of emotion other than terror in there."
Ah, yes. But you forget that I have access to the very depths of your small mind. So let me just delve in and bring this back up...
Suddenly, Ib plunged into another world and saw herself in a room, wrapped in a blue coat and... Garry! Purple hair, shredded blue coat and all! She gasped and then held her breath as he started talking.
"Now that I think about it, you were travelling all alone until you met me. That's nothing to sneeze at. I mean it, that's brave!"
Ib smiled; even if this was all fake, that was really sweet. Then, the voice came back to ruin things.
Oh, how sweet. My little icicle of a heart is melting, the voice drawled. Ib huffed.
"For all we know, there might be others lost in this place. If there are, I hope we can find each other..." Ib's eyebrows knitted together in slight confusion because maybe...just maybe...
No. It wasn't possible.
"What's your name?" "Mary!" A blonde girl replied happily, "Nice to meet you, Ib!"
Ah. Mary. She really was my favourite...
"If that's all you have to say, I'm going," Ib said angrily as she got up and marched away. At least, that's what she intended to do. Ib gritted her teeth as her back slammed against the wall of her bedroom. She had been pulled back by an invisible force.
Not so quickly, silly girl; I'm far from finished...
Click. It was just a click at first and one frame. One photograph that flashed in her mind: the cover of a book.
'Ruin of the Heart'.
If your spirit suffers too much, you will soon start to hallucinate ... And in the end, you will be destroyed. And more worrying yet ... is that you will not even be conscious of that fact.
Click. Ib's breath hitched in her throat. It was louder, persistent; it wanted to be heard.
"Something came up from the ground!" "This is bad! Get away from the painting!" "Ib! Watch out!" The stone vines demolished the area where she had been standing a second earlier.
Click. The frame switched to a dimly lit corridor.
"I see... You would want to stay with Garry... We'll get out together, right? Promise!"
Click. The slides were passing by quicker.
"In my way, in my way, in my WAY!" A girl sliced at a mannequin head with a palette knife.
Click. The blonde girl appeared again.
"All these feelings suddenly... How do you say it? Came... gushing out?"
Click. A girlish voice spoke sweetly.
"Ib, would you be friends with me?"
Click.
"I wonder what Garry's doing now. Crying all alone, maybe?"
Click.
"Where are you going, Ib? Why are you going by yourself? We promised we'd be together... Right? Why are you running?"
"IB! What are you doing, Mary?!"
"Shut up! If only you'd been good and waited there!"
"M-Mary! I knew it! You're..."
"STAY AWAY!"
The blonde girl fell to the floor with a thump.
Click.
"Sorry, it must have been scary. But it's okay now. You might not believe me, but Mary... she isn't human."
Click.
"Ib, Garry, where are you?"
"Don't tell me that was... She's after us!"
Click.
"A mirror... Well, let's just hope it's hope."
Click.
"Say, Ib? Have you heard of macaroons? ... ... So, uh, if we get out of here, could we go there together? ... No, wait! We will be going there" And we will get out! I promise!
Click.
"Hm? This room... This isn't the toy box... is it?"
Click.
"More importantly... See that, Ib? The painting on the far wall... I think I've seen it before...
Click.
"Who's there?! Ib... Garry... You're both okay?
Click.
"How did you get into this room? Leave..."
Click.
"Mary... you..."
Click
"Don't take another step!"
Click.
"Leave right now!"
Click.
"Now, now, NOW!
CLICK.
"LEAVE!"
Click.
"There's no other option!"
Click.
"IB!"
Click.
"Please!"
Click.
"STOP!"
Click.
"NO!"
'Fabricated World. Once you go in, there's no going back. All your time here will be lost. Will you still jump in?'
"What's this big mural? 'Fabricated World?' Hey! Isn't that the former gallery? Does that mean... If we jump into this... We'll go back there? But how are meant to jump into a painting?
There was a flash of blinding light.
"Ib! Look! The frame! Now might be our chance!"
He jumped in.
"Yes! I'm really in! Hurry up, Ib!"
She hesitated.
"What's wrong? Come on!"
A figure walked towards them.
"Ib! I finally found you! Sheesh... I was looking everywhere; don't just go running off places on your own! Your father's waiting for you too, see? Let's go, Ib!"
"Hey, what are you doing? Hurry up and come over!"
"Ib! How many times have I told you? Don't go following strangers!"
"Hey, it's not scary, okay? You'll be fine!"
"Ib! Listen to your mother! Don't go with some stranger! Do you want to never see your mother and father again?"
The man knelt down and stretched out his hand.
"Ib! I'll pull you over!
"Come with me!"
"Grab my hand!
"IB!"
The girl looked helplessly between the two... The choice was simple really. Her heart or her brain? Her brain told her to go with her mother, not a man she had barely met. But her heart... her heart told her that the only option was to go with the man. Her heart would lead her. Her heart would tell her the answer. Her heart would tell her the truth.
She grabbed the man's hand.
Everything went white...
The young girl slowly got up, confused. What had she been doing? She wandered aimlessly around the gallery until she came across a beautiful sculpture of a rose. There was a roughly twenty-year old man with fascinatingly purple hair and a maimed blue coat.
"Hm? What is it, little lady?"
"What are you looking at?" She asked as politely as she could. Her mother had told her not to cause the other visitors any trouble.
"Well, let's see. It's a rose sculpture, I guess... When I look at this sculpture, I feel somehow... sorrowful," The man gave a sad smile, "I wonder why?" He shook his head, "Ah, I'm sorry if I said anything to trouble you... Never mind what I said. Well, bye!" She felt rather 'sorrowful' too as the man walked away. He seemed nice. She heard footsteps and turned around to see her mother.
"There you are, Ib! Oh, where you looking at this?" Her mother admired the sculpture, "Wow, this is really great... It represents a person's heart, I suppose? I wonder if you have such a beautiful rose in your heart, Ib?"
The light blinded her as Ib's eyes opened once more and she gasped for breath, tears running down her face.
"As the rose wilts, so will you wilt away," Ib gave a sour laugh, "You don't get it, do you mum? I don't have a rose in my heart; my heart is the rose. I'm sorry. It turns out I was just as careless as Carrie. I didn't remember everything. In fact, I forgot it all..."
To the point of being amnesic, my friend.
Ib had to smile through the tears.
"So now, it's 'friend' and not 'silly girl' is it?" She asked with a watery smile.
Well, unless you wish me to revert to that habit. Besides, now that you've remembered everything, I guess you're not so silly anymore.
And with that, the voice faded away, like rain to reveal a rainbow. But not before Ib asked one final question.
"Who are you?"
My friend, I think you already know.
Ib closed her eyes and smiled,
"Rest in peace, Weiss Guertena."
AN: If you're still here, thanks for reading, it means a lot c: a big thank you to each follow/favourite/review because it really brightens up my day x
