P'Lamai.

That graceless corpse bride.

Laid there,

with crowds of clowns and music, while she died silently in that circus.

Kanya's pov:

When we got to the middle of that road, of that circle, of that crowd. I touched Bupphas hand, I in my life, have never touched something so cold, so sour, so crisp.

She was unbelievable.

But so believable, when I traced her eyes and her breathe to what appeared to my front like magic. .. Lamai.

I rather shush,

but the image I saw that night, was not something I could hold to myself, for I would go clinically brain sick. I would never wish upon 1, not even on those moths that deteriorated her to meat.

To see what I've seen.

Not the devil itself, not my worse enemy, nor even the skies that cursed down on us.

Not ever one.

It gave me utter boredom, the more I stood there and watched. Like grains of rice, I grew, and ate bored. Not because of how long the scene persuaded to last, but truly because, I believed those moths could've done a better job. Their work they displayed was hazardous with a incensed tang, I imagined it like a vision, making Buppha and my family sick. I couldn't want that.

Being stuck in a small hut with a family of 9, with a disease from a dead person, that would be a curse.

I coughed.

The thought alone made me fidget with the same discomfort and jubilant embarrassment my family projected onto themselves.

With this thought I looked back from the scene to my family that was sitting there, covered like a human blanket, distant in the eyes, movements, and thoughts. They were mummified breathers. Alive but preserved dead.

"Mæ̀!", I screamed mother. I'm used to screaming mother, but this mother of a scream was different.

My eyes were bulging out of my cranium, my teeth were slashing and hitching against one another, and skin was as hot as the air that stung my scalp. Sweat glistening and moistening my face, I was transparent like a mirror, and incandescent like a vampire. All these frisky actions replayed on my body like a lose instrument without music notes, it was tragic.

With a growing sensation of pique, I dragged my empty silhouette hands over my face, searching over the waves that combusted on them. A buried face with 10 fingers, and not a single expression.

"Mæ̀!", I screamed again. And after that scream there were a million more. Unheard. Mæ̀, Mæ̀, Mæ̀, Mæ̀, Mæ̀, Mæ̀!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why couldn't she hear me? She was who I only called for in this moment, and exactly in this moment. I could of called for Pa, Dao, Mali, Chomesri, Buppha, Pen-Chan, Phueng, even myself, but no. I called for her, Mæ̀.

It didn't matter to me if she didn't answer the first time, or the second time, or the third time, but the millionth time would mean so much.

I am child.

I am alone in a crowd of humans, and sister.

Come. Mæ̀. Come.

Dreaded and what felt like abandonment, I continued to stare at my mothers side profile with such hungry need. I needed her to look at me once. I wanted her to see my face. I wanted her to see how okay I was, and how wrong it was for me to be okay.

I wanted her to know that I couldn't feel anything, and that alone scared me. I was terribly scared of my own behavioral emotions...that weren't even exist. Emotion and sympathy are the human's body greatest strength and weakness. And, with not having any of those two, life seemed to swallow me whole and imprisoned me to my own self.

My eyes were cold blue and still. Nothing. Nothing at all in them. There was life, but no life. There was color, but no color. There was a innocent child, and not an innocent.

It wasn't hard for me to understand the predicament I was in.

Still looking at my mother, like two worlds collided, I grew to understand her poison. And, I understood the predicament she was in also. That selfish bitch.

And, with understanding came the realization of swimming in that predicament, I had no shame. For we were all chained and imprisoned within ourselves, we might as well get used to it, and eat it alive, like it does to us.

So.

Pushing past Buppha, I walked over to P'Lamai's defenseless and circus-like body, she looked like dog shit. And with no hesitation what so ever stood right over that shit. Having my left foot creased into her neck like a necklace. I could hear the audience react with their voices and body heat, they felt humiliated. I didn't care, I wanted them to feel humiliated and disgusted, for it seems like they never have before. They acted as if they didn't want to have their foot up her ass instead of her neck. Hypocrites.

They've sexualized and raped her for years impregnating her with 2 children. The villagers. Even raped her husband, bedridden him with disease, they did such cruelty, with big smiles glazed upon their cheeks. If my powerless foot to her neck scared them, none of these devils were ready for the hell that awaited them. For hell was so ready.

I laughed.

They all stunk worse than my aunt. They were the real dead bodies.

My gaze left the disturbed crowd, and returned to Buppha. She was conflicted and overstimulated. But, I couldn't do anything to help her severe emotions that always seemed to riot her. I didn't pity her, I wasn't in the position to do so and, even if I were, I wouldn't dare. She is my sister.

"go", I told her this softly.

You could hear her weaving breathes, they echoed like wedding bells in my cognition. It was unforgettable but, so unfortunate. I gaze over her eyelashes, those beautiful wings were drowned in tears and distasteful fits. Her lips cracked like the moons crescent. Her face grey, like every other day. Her monolith eyes drowsy and sacred of phobia.

She was a museum of fear.

Her shaky voice finally released from out of that hinged throat. " come with me."

"No."

"Why...why say no?", she asked poorly.

"I don't know", I say shaking my head.

Her eyes, there was not a perfect word to describe them, for they were imperfect.

"Please"

"No."

She demanded for me to go with her, but I couldn't. I didn't have a reason to. I wasn't afraid. Honestly, I was at headspace peace. Nothing couldn't shake me.

Those daunting eyes were tempting, but not tempting enough to step off of P'Lamai's neck.

"Why are you doing this?", she asked me.

"Because...I'm happy."

Whether I was happy or confused, none of that mattered.

"Happy?"

"Mm.", I hummed.

I didn't need her to understand me, I didn't want her to.

"What makes you so happy?"

"Everything."

I wasn't lying.

And without another word Buppha left the crowd like dust. Good.

And, then there was me.

I felt completely rigged, there's moments like this that don't happen ever. And, there's moments like this that always happen, that always feel like this.

In this moment I envisioned myself back at my family's hut, on top of our roof watching the waves. This moment was exactly like that.

Lamai was the roof, and the crowd was the waves. Oh, how life is so symbolical, ruthless and so transparent.

There was a sound in the air. It sounded like roosters screaming.

The once grey sky, switched like a thought to dark ruby red. It flashed across the village like crows. Highlighting the ground and sand beneath us with a husky gold yellow, and the waves with a dark black into an abyss. I never thought this village was able to be so colorful, this very moment changed my prospective about my mind. After seeing the colors radiating into this village like light beams from outer space, I could never think of my mind the same ever again.

You could see how the villagers eyes shot to the cinematic landscape that bewitched the atmosphere. They were spellbound. Lunatics. I just watched their mouths, how they were all opened, aligned like the fishes in the sea. The drool that peeled from their salivas dripping like breast milk onto the sandy land. I laughed out loud to the insanity that was captivated within those eyes.

"You are all crazy!", I yelled out laughing.

They didn't even move a muscle, or a breathe.

I was amused, that I couldn't project the same dramatic focuses they had on the world right there. Maybe it's because, I saw the world in a different motion, alternative. I don't know. All I knew was that I was there.

Ignoring the scene, I looked back to my parents that now had Buppha shield, wove into their arms. Something about seeing them hold Buppha made me realize that affection is really sympathy. And, that I disliked that sympathy, very very much.

My family too, bewitched like clowns by the colors that painted the sky and the ground earthly possible, made me want to enjoy the portrait also. But, I couldn't.

I didn't want to.

God was really in those skies, huh, witnessing my foot wined in Lamai's neck? Waving and watching the catastrophe that the devil implanted down here. What a thought.

And, even with that realization, we deserved it. Whether if we didn't want to believe it..it was true. No not.

I didn't subside myself into this film that directed itself perfectly. It had all the cuts right, the emotions were delivered, the scenes were peak. There was not one flaw. And, that's what made it too good, I couldn't believe in this type of perfection. Maybe because I haven't seen it before, but that wasn't it.

And, I've seen many things, I've haven't seen before.

Like my auntie being raped by many gruesome figures that roamed the village, here.

But that's for another time.

Suddenly, the article of sounds and spines of those roosters callings, went to rest. Mute.

There was only a sharp cry from the sirens deep within in the sea. ""

You could just see the eyes of my parents, my siblings, these villagers, ablaze, heads thrown back close enough to kiss their spines, one bruised hand rose into the air like a possessed child reaching out to touch the glow of God, they needed a saving. The other hand pulling like a predator at their ears, where blood flowed like a cracked egg yolk. Legs crossed in the position of Buddha, mouths slit to the side and tongue exposed like a heavy slap. These humanly bodies were corrupted with a insane deity. I just looked.

What came out of their mouths muffled with their tongues, stirred the ocean like a pot and my mind like wild goats that lived within the seas. It was a deep serene hum that had a dark root with a raspy tone. It sounded like a chant, a hymn orchestrated for the devil itself.

Kaleidoscope bloodgold eyes mounted into the soft filters that corrupted our oxygen tanks and visions.

They were illuminated.

Their humanly bodies started to move up and down ritualistically, in a row, to the chanting of their own noise. Their mouths filled with white glue dropped like an egg.

The whole village ground started to drown in a optical illusion of drool. It rains through the cracks, the sand, the roosters, even in the sky and sea.

It started to pour onto P'Lamia's body and onto mine.

That white thing. That white thing.

Called snow.

And that watery thing, that watery thing.

Called rain.

Mixed together.

Came thundering down, on all of us.

We were subdued. Even me, for the first time that night.

As I stood over my lovely aunt. That laid there like a brides corpse. Her eyes missing, or lips ripped and bitten into, her face filled with holes that got filled with snow and rain. Her hair patched into missing dozens. Her nose reconstructed to the left, to the right but not the middle. The teeth shattered like broken glass. Her ears gone. Her eyelashes shredded. Her breast disperse. Her stomach drilled out. And, her vagina on full display, destroyed.

But, her beautiful long distinct nails stayed.

They stayed the way I remembered them. They stayed the way I adored them. They stayed beautiful, like her. Even with all the blood that stained her, her nails stayed white and pearlescent, unstained.

With such a momentum speech that spoke to my mind, I couldn't believe that my aunt was underneath me dead. The rushing feeling of never being able to smell her, touch her, play with her nails killed me. Everything, every thought, killed me. I was dead in that moment, I was dead. I already missed her, and I know she already missed me.

My heart was punched, and punished. It stung, it burned, it flew.

There was no feeling that could describe the feeling I felt, the fetus of my spirit, my whole being, completely, completely, entirely, erased.

Aunt Lamai.

Aunt Lamai.

A vision ran through me like a tunnel, flashing its antennas into my chakras, enlightening them. In this vision I could see her, Lamai. Young so young, and so everlasting beautiful. Young beautiful. There were daisies that surrounded her, like a bee's attraction to honey. They cherished her, milked her, wove her like their own. And, while she was cherry picked she sat on top of a hut similar to mines, but it was so different. This hut was colored and fashioned in the freshest, sweetest foods in Thailand. You could see Lamai picking food off the hut and stuffing it into her mouth, for it was food that made her the happiest, feet swinging glee, smile blissfully wide, her entirety was heaven. Then, In the last bit she stopped completely, looked ahead to the waves and smiled. I don't think I've ever seen her smile, that smile.

She smiled ahead to the waves...that had me in them with a daisy singing in my hair. Her smile faded with a wave and soft voice

"It's okay."

And like that the vision ended.

All I could do was scream and, accept that she was gone.

I missed her.

I wanted to be apart of her.

I wanted her to get her revenge.

I wanted to avenge her.

I wanted to show how angry I was.

I wanted to avenge her children's death, her husband death.

I wanted to do it all.

But mostly I wanted to just cry.

And, I couldn't, I couldn't, and, I can't.

Because, I can't feel anything.

My mind, my soul, my spirit, my head, but most painful of all, my own heart.

They all repel me.

So, all I can do is sit and watch.

And, remember.

I stepped off my aunts neck, and right after kissed it. I didn't have to apologize, because I know she knows.

I will always remember the days and nights she combed my hair, whether it was knotted or too long, she didn't care. She would kissed the white patch that sat right in the middle, and say "you are truly one of God's greatest creatures". But, little did she know she actually was.

I will always remember when she would stand up for me when I would get bullied by the villagers kids about my eyes that were too blue, they hated them and they hated me, but P'Lamai turned their hate into love, so easily. Phrasing repeatedly, " You did well", she spoke this to me like a song.

I will always remember the late night swims with her and her husband and her kids. They would teach me how to swim, catch fish, and In the end eat. They were my family also.

She was my second mommy, she loved every inch and foot of me.

And I miss her.

I shook off the thoughts that radiated within me.

-

I scanned her body throughout, analyzing and touching each and every part that was apparent. Then my eyes hit something foreign, I could feel the rut fill up my throat.

I digged my hands in her naked stomach. Full. Shoveling and groveling inside of her, blood arose to my shoulders like a glove. The sound was distasteful and loud. I was searching and searching, until I didn't have to search anymore. My gory hands, touched the skin of an buried infant. A baby.

My eyes shot towards, the nut that laid there connected to the mothers umbilical cord, warm.

So silent.

I couldn't believe my eyes, I didn't know Lamai had a baby within her. This whole of a moment spun my head more drastically. I brought my head closer to the baby, listening for any heartbeat, touching for any sudden movement, and there was none. So.

I ripped the baby from out of Lamai, with the umbilical cord still hanging onto the baby and the mother like a rope.

A symbolic tragedy.

I wondered how she was with baby, if her husband died. And, then I knew.

Holding the baby in my hands, I stepped away from Lamai and gifted her a kiss inside her stomach and on top of her face.

"Goodbye, you did well."

Looking at the baby that was undeveloped I laughed. It looked funny since it wasn't fully created, but you could see so much of Lamai in the baby. It was truly her, baby. I ran my fingers across the baby's face, sweeping the blood off and onto my face. All over my face. I recited the actions as a ceremony, a ceremony of not death but of reincarnation and rebirth.

Holding the baby right within my arms, I walked past the villagers, my siblings and my parents that were still in a trance, a dream that only they could recreate, wake up from. But, for some reason, some selfish reason, I wanted them to stay like that forever and forever, until P'Lamai woke up from her dream first.

"Fuck you", I voiced with my mouth, with a middle finger spread to the world.

Leaving the sandy front, I approached the sea.

Walking towards the sandy dark water, I looked into the abyss, stepping into the water foot by foot, deeper by deeper. The sea ate at my feet hungrily, taking each inch of them fiercely.

I could die, and I didn't care.

I looked at the baby that sat in my arms, I wanted to give the infant all, everything that this village couldn't. I wanted to give him her dreams, songs, stars, but most importantly the sun. I wanted the baby to feel the heat of what the sun could give, the aggravation, the madness, the tans, the thirst for water, the adrenaline to run. Everything.

I kissed the little baby, and spun them in the air, over and over again. Humming and dancing like P'Lamai. Swinging my hips, my lips, my hair, the tips. The sea danced along, we all did, even the redness that tore our skies and the gold that painted our roads.

With the drunk seas, and my misty blue eyes I looked within the baby

"You are truly one of God's greatest creatures.", I said this with a laugh. And, kissed the infant much more. I felt it's entirety, and so did the sea, and so did the moon. We all did.

The sea that was once cold began to shelter me, with an overwhelming guilt of warmth. It wrapped me up like a blanket, it wrapped us both up. I was confused by the sudden gesture, for the sea was wicked. I wanted the baby to live, to run, and if the sea thought of this as a sacrificial deed they were wrong. Complete wrongness.

The Villagers often brought newborn children out to the seas, and sacrificed them for wealth. And, like the sea it took the sacrifice. The screams of those babies that drowned below here still ranged in my ears.

"No, I'm not", I told the sea.