The room was silent. The bodies lay unmoving on the floor, not even their ghosts moved. Shock penetrated the very air I no longer breathed. One by one I noticed how the other girls realized their own death. Agony tearing over their faces, voiceless screams filling the void where life had once run.
Their reaction was not so different from my own, and yet, they seemed unable to think, to step out of their fear. They did not see each other or me, only their bodies before them. One paced the room restlessly, unable to keep still for more than a brief moment. Others knelt by their bodies, touching it with disbelief. Over and over reliving the moment of horror and betrayal when their life was taken from them. The fair-haired girl just stood there, staring at the wall. Completely numb, reflecting my own feelings. Another of the girls tried to kick the candles standing on the floor, but each time she tried nothing happened. Only the flame flickered so very briefly that I suspected it was a figment of my imagination.
I turned my back to the room, needing to get away from it, to forget what had happened. I stared out of the window as time passed. The night deepened only to grow lighter again. Shapes became recognizable figures in the fog, the nightman walked down the street when the world had become a light grey. One after the other he extinguished the lights, whistling his usual happy tune. Slowly the street woke to life, water poured out of a window opposite me, the early workers trudging towards the harbour, the man delivering at the doorsteps and tussled women quickly grabbing the bottles before hurrying inside.
For a blissful moment I forgot all about the scene behind me. I marvelled in the sounds and views the street below me provided. As if seeing it for the first time. I wondered why I had never noticed all the details before. Completely taken by the life before me, I felt a sudden pang of regret. I was dead. I would never again taste the fresh bread from the bakery, never taste mamas tomato sauce and pasta, never hear my little brother laugh with joy, never pet the cat who visited me in the early evenings.
Finally I returned to the situation before me. The life outside the window was me denied, it would never be mine again. Staring at the carnage in front of me, I felt a strong anger. Anger at the man who had taken my life. Anger at the betrayal. It fired me like a hungry flame, willing me into action. I had to do something. This ritual we had all been involved in was certainly no act of God. With burning passion I knew I had to find justice. I had to make sure this man, this devil, never again would take the life of another.
I stepped into the room, carefully avoiding the bodies lying on the floor. I would not look at them. Looking at the blood and death would just send me back into the numb scream again. I could not allow for that to happen. Slowly I made my way to the fair-haired girl and stood before her her. She did not react, it was like she couldn't see me. I waved my hands at her face and only a flicker in her eyes was returned. "Sheila, do you hear me?" Another flicker and I had hope I could get through to her. "Sheila, listen to me, you got to break out of that, we got to do something." Confusion coloured her expression and slowly her focus shifted. I smiled at her, though faintly. There was not much to smile about. "Yes?" Hesitation slured her words. Perhaps it was better for her to just forget about the pain. I shook my head, no, we had to work together to deal with this. I could not do it on my own. We had all be wronged.
"Sheila," speaking her name seemed to have the most effect, and I repeated it until she finally focused on me. "What happened? Why am I here?" I watched her eyes. Uncertain of what to say or do, I gave her time. "Why am I not feeling anything? Where am I?" She took her eyes of me and turned to the room. A scream escaped her lips and she covered her face with her hands. "No!" The pain in her voice was tangible. "I can't be dead, it can't be true. It was just a bad dream, a dream. He wouldn't do this, he couldn't."
The others in the room slowly turned their attention to us and drifted closer. Sheila saw them come and stepped backward. She held up her hands as if to protect herself. "No, he couldn't have, why would he, I loved him." So that was why she had joined us. Love. A romantic dream. I felt for her. His betrayal of her was greater than of me. A sudden flash of insight, and I knew that he had played us all. Appealing to our dreams, to what we desired. He had known Sheila's love and promised her it would be returned. Just like he had promised me a change, a chance to escape my poor life.
This made me wonder what promises he had given the others. It was easy to guess Helena, her desire for power and control had always been poorly hidden. It was also she who spoke now. "It's obvious, isn't it Sheila." He betrayed us, he murdered us." Sheila closed her eyes, trying to deny the facts before her, but Helena continued, "He is a fraud. A mean bastard. Ya're a fool to listen to him, an idiot." Sheila shrank even more and tried to hide behind me. "No, he loved me, he told me he loved me." Helena snorted, "Yeah right, and I'm the queen of Sheba. Look lass, he fooled us all and killed us all. Stop ya whining, ya can't change what happened anyway."
"No, but we can do something about it." I stepped forward, my anger once again fuelling me into action I would not have dared in the past. "We can do something about it, we can get justice."
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