Chapter Eight: Rest

Sisi tossed and turned, but sleep never came. She drank warm milk to calm her senses, yet it never arrived. Frustated, Sisi went outside and worked the treadmill. She figured that tiring herself out was the answer to her sudden insomnia. As she ran at the highest setting, she wondered about Emery, thinking about the chapters in her life that were not meant to be seen, read or known. Such voyeuristic sins were delightful.

Sisi thought about the seed she had planted, the link to Emery's soul. Thinking about the seed prompted The Third to speak up, saying that negligence on Emery's flower would lead to dire consequences. Before The Third could elaborate, Isis interrupted The Third and told Sisi there was a way out of this mess. The voices went back and forth against one another until Sisi stopped her exercise. As she stepped off the treadmill, Sisi realized it was near dawn, the sun hinting its rise from the horizon. She checked her watch and gasped. She had been running for six hours.

Sisi took a bath and went to bed. She covered her eyes with her pillows, drew her blanket over her head, moved this side and that side. She closed her eyes tightly, counted sheep, counted the seconds that ticked and tocked on her watch. She was supposed to be exhausted after a lengthy workout, but her body said otherwise. Sisi threw her pillow and blanket off and stormed out of her room.

Sleep was her refuge from the voices. Without it her head clamored for attention. The Third told her to go downtown and look for more souls to harvest whereas Isis told her to burn the books and burn down the house. Sisi knelt down and screamed, hoping they would shut up, but the voices continued on and on.

She ran outside, hoping the voices wouldn't follow. She focused on the sound of her inhales and exhales, each breath working against the noise in her head. It worked. She ran faster, and she sprinted like a graceful fox skittering through the virgin woods.

Soon, Sisi found herself at the edge of downtown. She smelled their essence. All around her, the sims that passed her by, they all had the scent, the smell of their being. Essence. Love had the scent of warm honey while envy had the scent of frothing acid. Sloth had the scent of mold while body had the scent of musk. Sisi followed her nose to that intoxicating musk.

She entered the gym and locked on her prey. Like a skillful predator, Sisi pounced on her target by cracking a joke. It was a success. Her name was Sonia Pearce, a gym instructors at Movers and Shakers. They chatted and joked and sometimes pranked one another, and soon they were close. Sisi even got a free training from her. When their session was over, Sisi exited the gym and hounded for more.

By the time Sisi got home, she was energized rather than exhausted. She had gotten four names from her excursion. Their names were now bound on their own book of life. She returned to her bedroom and hoped for rest. As hours and days, weeks and months, a year and another went by, Sisi accepted she'll never rest in peace.

Chapter Seven: Flower Offering

The screams came from her bedroom. Sisi opened the door and was smitten by the grating echoes that funneled through. It was coming from the bookcase, and when Sisi ran to it, she saw a book tremble and shake at every scream it gave out. She fumbled for the book, and it fell open to the floor. The screams were amplified, making Sisi tear up from the inhuman shrill.

She sighted the Simcronomicon, reached for it and flipped through the pages. She scanned through the lines, searching for an instruction on silencing the wailing book:

Once a captured soul is released from its mortal body, the soul is bound to its book. The soul will be panicked, and it will communicate through the book with great clamor.

To silence the bound book, one must plant a seed as an offering to the confused soul. Utter and repeat the captured soul's name as you plant and water the seed. This will link and nourish the seed with the soul. The ritualist can now use the book to summon them for service or for company.

Sisi didn't know about the seeds or the offering ritual. She got up, ran out of the house and hailed for a cab.

An hour later, she returned with thirteen garden pots and a packet of lilac seeds. She went to the third floor and positioned the garden pots equidistantly. With her knees on the floor, she could feel the screams vibrating from beneath.

With the last pot arranged, Sisi chanted Emery Thornton's name. She planted the seed and watered it. The screaming stopped.

Sisi walked down the stairs to the first floor and entered her bedroom. Emery's book of life remained open on the floor. It was silent and still. Sisi picked it up and read the last pages of Emery's life. She read that Emery had met a handsome stud named Don Lothario, and she had invited him for a midnight WooHoo. The night had been so impassioned that Emery's heart burst in excitement—literally.

Sisi closed the book, gave out a sigh and returned it back to its shelf. When she turned around, Sisi screamed at the ghost standing behind her.

"Sisi? What am I doing here? And why is my voice weird and echo-ey?"

Emery moved towards Sisi and noticed that her legs were missing. And she was floating. Emery looked at her arms, her palms, her chest.

"I'm see-through! Why am I see-through? Sisi? What's happening?"

Sisi took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts. Her first impulse was to reach for Emery's hand. When she took it, the hair on her arms and her nape stood on their ends, and there was a tickling sensation that pulsed through her body. Bliss—the feeling that she could stay awake forever.

"Sisi! Please!"

Sisi snapped out of her moment. She told Emery that her soul was safe in her hands and that her soul will be free soon. Sisi was uncertain about the souls being free and being safe, but one thing was for sure—they were in her hands.

"Why do you need us? What do you have planned?" asked Emery, doubtful of Sisi's intentions.

Sisi then told her a lie, a lie that she had not thought of nor had she control of saying. It was The Third taking over her tongue and saying, "because you will be saved. All of you."

Before Emery could respond, her ghostly body faded. She had said something, probably begged Sisi to do something. But her words were unclear like a drifting echo. Soon, Sisi was left alone. When midnight drew near, Sisi went to bed. She closed her eyes, but sleep didn't come.

Chapter Six: A Mother's Bond

Sisi woke up with a smile on her face and with the morning rays stroking her cheek. What a pleasant dream, Sisi thought as she stretched her arms to the heavens. When she turned to the end table next to the bed, she saw the steel cup that had contained the potion of youth.

The voices were quiet this morning. Sisi carried out her ritual by making breakfast, watching her shows and writing some novels. Each page she wrote was like writing a check to herself, and when she mailed the book to her publisher, she was cashing them in.

After finishing her latest novel “Die Trying 2: Don't Die Harder,” Sisi printed and bound the book. She sat up and made her way to the front door to mail it out. Before she could step out, someone knocked on her front door. Sisi checked the window to see who it was. Rabid fans were everywhere, and Sisi didn't have time to waste with them, especially if they were void of the essence she required.

“Sisi, I know you're in there!” said Cayden. Sisi ducked down before Cayden could see her.

“Why doesn't she want to see us?” said a little girl. Sisi's heart sank. She knew who it was, but she had never seen her face. Last she had seen her, she was still a newborn baby. Now, she was on her two feet and was talking—feats that marked her growth, feats that would captivate a parent's heart, feats that Sisi had missed.

“She's a mystery, Isabel,” said Cayden, now banging on the door.

Isabel. The name echoed inside Sisi's mind, the name rebounding as if trapped in a hollow chamber. Amid the tumult of her brain, The Third and Isis didn't help much. Isis commanded Sisi to ignore her lover and child, have them leave and forget about her. But The Third compelled her to open the door, to invite them for dinner and then to write her daughter's name on a book of life.

Or else, Sisi could abandon her road to immortality and turn into dust. Sisi shuddered. Her daughter's name droned on and on. So long as they were outside, there was no peace. Sisi screamed.

“Sisi!?” said Cayden from the other door. Cayden peeked through the window, shifted his angle and saw Sisi who had her palms against her ears.

“What's wrong, dad?” said Isabel.

He slammed his body against the door until it gave way. Sisi opened her eyes and was blinded momentarily by the light from outside. When she saw Isabel's glowing outline, the voices finally ceased.

“Are you okay?” asked Cayden, helping Sisi up from the floor. Sisi nodded. Isabel hid herself from the doorway, occasionally peeking and studying the woman who was supposed to be her mother.

“Are you sure? Looked like you were having an episode or something,” said Cayden. Sisi assured him that she was fine. She then changed the subject by offering Cayden and Isabel a home cooked meal—roast chicken that she had perfected recently.

Sisi and Cayden caught up with one another as they ate dinner. She learned that Cayden was a painter, and he boasted his earning from selling Pop Art masterpieces. When Sisi tried to converse with Isabel, Isabel would avert her gaze and pretend she didn't hear.

Sisi tried again. She asked how school was.

“Like you care,” Isabel finally responded, glaring back at Sisi.

“Isabel,” said Cayden staring down at her. Isabel stood up and walked away from the table.

As the day ended, Cayden and Isabel prepared to leave. Cayden went to the bathroom for the road. Isabel sat at the couch and was followed by Sisi. Sisi tried again to connect with her daughter.

“Well, if you really cared, then drop a line once in a while, will ya?” said Isabel in a scathing tone. When Cayden stepped out from the bathroom, Isabel jumped away from the couch and ran outside.

“Let's go, dad!” said Isabel.

“Kids,” said Cayden to Sisi, “We'll we see you again?”

Sisi nodded. She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Sisi watched them walk away, and as they went further and further, Sisi felt a heaviness inside her heart. When they were out of sight, everything became lighter as if nothing happened.

Sisi closed the door and sighed. She wanted to cry it out, but her melancholy was cut short by a blood curdling scream coming from her bedroom.