ROYALE

Her scream tore through the aching silence of the night. The little girl’s grip on the teddy she held tightened. Cold sweat trickled down her face as she let out jagged breaths. Again, those screams that tormented her nights had begun. She clutched her teddy closer to her chest, shutting her eyes forcefully. Praying to God that they would stop—disappear back into nothingness.

“You can’t leave! Marcelo!” A voice screamed. Its desperation suspended heavily in the air. “What about us? What about tu familia, mi amor?” It asked.

Hearing the familiarity of the voice, her eyes drew open. She looked around; her eyes searched the room as fear faded slowly and curiosity crept in. Hopping down from the massive bed, she rushed to the door. Her tiny hand reached for the knob and pulled it open slightly, wide enough for her to watch what transpired in the hall.

Her eyes widened; shock filled them as she saw him. His hands were full—carrying boxes of what seemed to contain his personal things. He turned his back to the woman who pleaded with him, withdrawing further away from her and approaching the front door.

“Papá!” She yelled, rushing out of the room. Running as fast as her tiny legs could. She needed to stop him.

Hearing the voice of his daughter, he halted. A satisfied smile formed on her lips. He stopped! He stopped for her.

‘He was not going to leave us. He was not...’ The thought halted as she could perceive something different from him.

His head turned slightly, his face darkened with a bitter expression. She could tell he was different from the less cheerful version of him she grew up with. The smile slowly withered away as fear returned.

“The contract is done. I am not staying.” He spoke coldly. “I will leave the house and half of the property in your name. Take care of Carol!” Saying those last words, he left—wandering into the darkness of the eerie night.

“Marcelo!” her mother screamed. It was late; he was far gone. She caught her breath. A wail escaped her lips as she dug her fingers into her skin. It spread across the empty hall, echoing in the darkness.

Her body trembled as hot tears ran down her cheeks.

Carol rushed to her side, wrapping her short hands round her mother’s waist. She sobbed too. She missed him.

Her family was not a happy one, but… even in the discomfort it bore, she still found joy. She has known her father not to be a cheerful man. He was always distant and gloomy, yet sometimes, when he saw her, he’d offer a rare, fleeting smile. His smiles were like tiny glimmers of happiness, but now that he was gone, it seemed the happiness left with him.

“It’s okay, Mamá!” She whispered. Her palms patted her mother’s back slowly while her body quivered with every breath.

“Everything will be okay.” She said in a firm tone, convincing herself more than the weeping woman.

‘Everything will be okay! Everything will be okay, Carol!’ She repeated the words within her, like a chant she whispered to herself, but… Everything was not okay.

Days flowed into weeks and then to months… things were not getting any better. As each day grew by, Carol could do nothing but watch as her dear mother sank deeper and deeper into the claws of depression. She tried countless times to rescue her from it, but without her father, she was helpless.

Every day, when she returned from school, her mother was settled at a particular spot in the living room, staring into nothingness—holding onto nothing but the photo of their wedding. The only thing she had of her dear husband.

Her face was pale, her eyes distant, like she wasn’t fully there anymore.

Her heart ached seeing her that way. Carol would rush up to her and ponder ways to seek her attention. She danced, sang, and spoke the worst jokes humanity could ever think of, but... nothing, nothing seemed to work.

With time, she knew that there was no hope in lighting up her mother’s dark world.

Her only escape was fashion—letting her imagination wander wild with colors, styles, and trends that fashion offered. Every time she failed in gaining her mother’s attention, Carol escaped into the world of colors and clothes. A simple comfort that carried her through her darkest moments. She loved the way the colors moved across the paper, the blend, and the matches of clothes and accessories—creating a design out of nothing.

Even though she was at her worst, life wasn’t quite finished with Carol. It still had to be the worst puppet master ever known.

Though depression had its nasty claws on her mother, cancer happily crept in to join the cold party.

“Miss Caroline Martinez, I am afraid I have bad news!” Hearing those words from the man in a white coat was never a good sign for an average teenager.

She sucked in a breath, anticipating his words.

“Your mother may not make it!”

“W-What do you mean, d-doctor?” she stuttered. Her worst fear consumed her.

“She is at the last stage of cancer. At this rate, the drugs wouldn’t do her much good.” He informed her.

A sharp pain clenched her chest, her breath hitching as the words echoed in her mind, replaying over like the tunes of a broken record.

“I-I…” She couldn’t make a sentence, gripped by the fear of losing the only one she held dear.

“I will give you some time to process things.” He said, leaving her with a newfound predicament.

Carol approached the hospital ward where her dear mother was kept with caution. His words hung heavy in her head, dancing around in dark tunes.

She pushed the doors open to behold the sickened being, drained of life. Machines lined up on both sides of the bed, keeping her alive in a way that didn’t feel like living.

“Mamá?” she called out softly.

“Caroline!” a voice replied in a croaked tone.

She rushed to her side; tears welled up within her as she wept. A hand reached out to her, stroking her soft brown hair—bearing the comfort that she always longed for.

“I don’t want you to leave me, Mamá!” She said between sobs, clutching her palm.

“I don’t want to leave either.” Her mother replied. A dreadful pain was apparent in her voice. “Lo siento, Carol!”

“Mamá!”

“Lamento los años de soledad que te causé, Carol.” She said, tears running down her cheeks as the memory of the lonely years flashed in her mind.

“Está bien, Mamá. No te odio por eso¡”

“You should, mi amor.”

“Nada, Mama! I don’t hate you for it. Papá leaving wasn’t your fault!”

“I loved him, your father.” She blurted. Carol was mute, unsure of what to say.

“Did he love you?” She asked. A burning question she carried since childhood.

“Ninguno, mi amor! He didn’t. I chased him for years. Hoping that he would return my love, but… he didn’t.” She felt pain as she told their story. “He needed help once, and I was the only one who could help him. I offered him a deal. A contract marriage for a decade, which he would benefit from once it was over, and half my wealth.”

Her eyes widened at her mother’s words.

“With no choice, he accepted it. We got married, and I solved his problem. I was overjoyed to marry him. That day was the happiest day of my life.” A light smile formed on her lips, an expression Carol hadn’t seen in years.

“But he wasn’t happy. Day by day, I could tell that he regretted his decision to sign the contract. Back then I thought that if we had kids, he would learn to love me and would stay for them, but...” She paused. The memory of the dreadful night crawled back in her head.

“It is okay, Mamá,” Carol spoke in hushed whispers.

Her mother let out a long, shuddering breath before turning to her, eyes heavy with sorrow.

“El amor no es más que una debilidad, Carol!” The words bore a weight as they resonated in the surrounding air.

The shrill beep of the machine next to the bed startled her. Carol watched, horrified, as her mother slowly drew closer to death’s door.

“Mamá! Mamá!” She yelled but received silence. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the stiff body. Doctors and nurses trooped in, rushing to the body on the bed.

Reality struck her as someone dragged her out to the hallway. She screamed and yelled, begging to be with her once more.

The hospital hallway stretched endlessly before her, empty and cold. The uneven rhythm of her breathing echoed in the silent hallway, taunting her with a certain loneliness that suddenly hovered.