The Tearsmith: A Novel

Even the heart has a shadow

That follows it wherever it goes.

I was sweating. My temples were throbbing. The room was small, stuffy, suffocating…And it was dark. It was always dark.

I couldn’t move my arms. I was scratching at the air, but no one could hear me. My skin was burning, I tried to stretch my hand out, but I couldn’t do it. The door closed and the darkness swallowed me up…

—

I woke with a jolt.

I was still surrounded by the darkness of my nightmares and it took me an interminable amount of time to fumble for the light switch. I was still gripping the bedcovers.

Light flooded the room, revealing the corners of my new home. My heart was still pounding in my throat.

My bad dreams had come back. Well, in truth they’d never gone away. A new bed wasn’t enough to drive them away.

I weakly touched my wrists. The Band-Aids were still on my fingers, their colours comforting me, reminding me I was free.

I could see them, when it wasn’t dark. It wasn’t dark, I was safe…

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. But that sensation was still crawling over my skin. It was whispering at me to close my eyes, it was crouched in the dark, lying in wait for me.

Would I ever truly be free?

I pushed back the covers and got out of bed. I rubbed my face with my hand and headed towards the bathroom.

The light made the white, clean tiles shine. The mirror was bright and the towels were as soft as clouds, helping me to remember that I was far away from those nightmares. It was all different. This was another life…

I turned on the faucet and doused my wrists with cold water, slowly recovering my inner calm. I stayed there for a very long time, trying to get my thoughts in order, until the light came back to illuminate even the darkest corners of my mind.

It would all be fine. I was no longer living in my memories. I didn’t have to be scared any more…I was far away, safe. I was free. And I had a chance at happiness…

When I left the bathroom, I realised that morning had already broken.

—

We had biology first thing that morning, so I made sure I wasn’t late. The biology teacher, Mr Kryll, wasn’t well known for his patience.

The sidewalk in front of the school was teeming with students. I was very surprised when I heard a voice in the crowd shout, ‘Nica!’

Billie was in front of the gates, her curls swinging as she waved excitedly. She was smiling radiantly and I found myself staring at her, lost for words, unused to so much attention.

‘Hi,’ I greeted her shyly, trying not to show how happy I was that she had spotted me in a crowd of so many people.

‘So, how’s your first week at school going? Feeling suicidal yet? Kryll drives you crazy, right?’

I scratched my cheek. In truth, I’d been fascinated by his classification of invertebrates, but the other students spoke about him as if he’d instigated some sort of reign of terror in his classroom.

‘Actually,’ I started tentatively, ‘I didn’t think he was too bad…’

She burst out laughing as if I’d just told a joke.

‘Sure!’ She gave me a friendly nudge, making me jump.

As we walked along together, I noticed that she had a tiny, crocheted camera dangling from the zipper of her backpack.

A moment later her face lit up. She ran forward euphorically, stopping when she reached Miki, who she hugged from behind.

‘Hello!’ she exclaimed joyfully, her arms around Miki’s backpack. Miki turned around with a zombie-like expression. She had dark circles under her eyes and her face looked drained from exhaustion.

‘You’re here early!’ Billie trilled. ‘How are you doing? What lessons do you have today? Do you want to go home together later?’

‘It’s eight in the morning,’ Miki protested. ‘Stop pummelling my brain.’

She noticed that I was there too. I lifted a hand to wave hello at her, but she didn’t respond. I saw that she also had a tiny, crocheted keyring dangling from her backpack. This one was a panda’s head, with two huge black patches around its eyes.

At that moment, several girls passed by us, squealing excitedly, and joined a dense throng of students outside a classroom. One of them strained her neck to look inside, the others covered their mouths with their hands to hide their conspiratorial smiles. They looked like a crowd of praying mantises.

Miki stared at the little crowd, looking bored. ‘What can they be mewling at?’

‘Let’s go see!’

Together we headed towards them – or rather, Miki headed towards them, and Billie followed, but not before grabbing me happily by the strap of my backpack. We reached the little crowd of girls and I also tried to take a look inside, curious now.

I understood only too late that it was the music room.

I was paralysed.

Rigel was there, his profile like a perfect portrait. A dim light flooded the room, illuminating the black hair framing his striking face. His slender fingers were stroking the piano keys, producing ghostly melodies that dissolved into the surrounding silence.

He looked gorgeous.

I tried as hard as I could to push that thought away, but to no avail. He was like a black swan, an unbearable angel who could unleash mysterious, unearthly sounds.

‘Do boys like him really exist?’ one of the girls whispered.

Rigel wasn’t even playing a piece of music. His hands were moving through simple chord progressions, but I knew what they were capable of conjuring when they wanted.

‘He’s so hot…’

‘What’s his name?’

‘I didn’t catch it, it’s an unusual name…’

‘I heard that he got away with just a detention for that fight!’ they murmured with bewilderment and excitement. ‘He didn’t get suspended!’

‘I’d take detention every day for a guy like him…’

They giggled a little too loudly, and I felt annoyance in the pit of my stomach. They were gazing at him as if he was a god, letting themselves be charmed as if he was a fairy-tale prince, not realising that he was the wolf. At the end of the day, hadn’t the devil once been the most beautiful of the angels?

Why did no one seem able to see it?

‘Shh, he’ll hear you!’

Rigel looked up.

And they fell silent.

It was maddening. Everything about him was perfect, his pure, delicate features, and that gaze. It burned your soul, literally. Those black, penetrating, shrewd eyes stood out against his face in a way that took your breath away.

Realising that he was no longer alone, he got up and stepped towards us.

I shrivelled, looked at the floor, and murmured, ‘It’s late, we should get to class.’

But Billie didn’t hear me. She was still holding my backpack strap, and the girls behind me didn’t even move to let me through. They were all frozen, as if bewitched, subjugated by the mysterious charm that emanated from his violent beauty.

Rigel got to the door and made to close it, but one of the girls boldly flung an arm out and held it open.

‘It would be a real shame if you stopped,’ she said, smiling. ‘Do you always play so well?’

Rigel glanced scornfully at the hand holding the door open.

‘No,’ he replied with a cool sarcasm. ‘Sometimes I play seriously…’

He took a step forward, looking straight at her, and this time, the girl was forced to take a step backwards. He gave her a lingering look before moving past her. And then he left.

I looked away as suggestive glances flew around the group, refusing to participate in their collective excitement.

After that evening in the hallway, I had started doing what I had always done at The Grave – keeping as far away from him as possible. His laughter was permanently echoing in my mind. I couldn’t free myself from it.

‘Your brother seems like he’s come from another planet…’

‘He’s not my brother,’ I snapped brusquely, as if the words had burnt my lips.

They both stared at me, and my cheeks stung. It wasn’t like me to respond like that, but how could they really think that we were related? We were complete opposites of each other.

‘Sorry,’ Billie replied hesitantly. ‘You’re right, I…I forgot.’

‘It’s fine,’ I reassured her in a softer voice, hoping to put things right. Billie’s expression turned calm again and she glanced at the clock on the wall.

‘Heavens, we’ve got to get going or Kryll will have our skins!’ she burst out, her eyes wide. ‘Miki, see you later, enjoy class! Come on, Nica.’

‘Bye, Miki,’ I murmured before following Billie. She didn’t reply, but I felt her gaze watching us leave together.

Did she see me as an intruder?

‘How did you become friends, you and Miki?’ I asked as we reached the classroom.

‘It’s a funny story. Because of our names,’ Billie replied, entertained. ‘Mine and Miki’s names are a little…well, out of the ordinary. The first day of elementary school I told her that my name was quite strange and she replied that it couldn’t be any more unusual than hers. We only use our nicknames now, but ever since that day we’ve been inseparable.’

I sensed something unusual about Miki. I couldn’t really say that I knew her, but I couldn’t doubt her fondness for Billie. She acted cool, but there was a shining intimacy in her eyes when they spoke to each other. Their friendship was like a pair of comfortable shoes that you’ve worn with confidence and familiarity your whole life.

—

At the end of the school day, I felt tired but happy.

‘I’m coming, Grandma!’ Billie said into her phone. We headed outside as our classmates piled into the yard, chatting excitedly.

‘I’ve got to go. Grandma’s double parked the car and if she gets another fine she’ll be apoplectic. Oh, wait…do you want to swap numbers?’

I slowed to a stop, and she did the same beside me.

She giggled, waving her hands in the air. ‘I know, I know. Miki says I’m a pain. Just because one time I sent her a seven-minute-long voice message she calls me a chatterbox…but you don’t believe her, do you?’

‘I…I don’t have a phone,’ I confessed eventually. I felt a burning sensation in my chest that took my voice away. I would have liked to tell her that I didn’t care that she talked a lot. That she was great as she was, because when she spoke to me so familiarly, I felt less strange and different. I managed to feel normal. And it was wonderful.

‘You don’t have a phone?’ she asked, gobsmacked.

‘No…’ I murmured, but the sudden honk of a car horn made me jump.

An old woman’s head appeared through the window of a massive Wrangler, wearing a huge pair of black sunglasses. She screeched something at the man in the car behind, whose mouth fell open, offended.

‘Oh my God, they’re having a go at Grandma…’ Billie ran a hand through her curly hair. ‘Sorry, Nica, I’ve got to go! See you tomorrow, okay? Bye!’

She scuttled away like an insect and disappeared into the crowd.

‘Bye…’ I whispered, waving my hand. I felt incredibly light. I took a deep breath and, stifling a smile, headed along the road towards home.

It had been a long day, but all I could feel was a tingly sort of happiness.

Mr and Mrs Milligan had apologised that they weren’t able to pick us up from school every day – Norman was out at work until the evening, and the store needed Anna’s constant attention.

But I liked walking. And also, seeing as Rigel had detention, I had the whole house to myself in the afternoons.

I took care not to tread on a line of ants crossing the sidewalk. I stepped over the apple core they were feasting on and turned the corner into our neighbourhood.

The white picket fence soon filled my vision. ‘Milligan’ was written on the mailbox. I approached, calm and content, but with a pounding heart. Maybe I would never get used to having somewhere to return home to…

I entered the house, and was greeted by a welcoming stillness. I tried to memorise everything: the cosiness, the narrow hallway, the empty frame on the sideboard that maybe used to have a photo inside it.

In the kitchen, I swiped a teaspoon of mulberry jam and ate it near the sink.

I was crazy for jam. At The Grave they only let us have it when there were visitors. Guests liked to see that we were treated well, and we would parade around the institute in our best clothes pretending that jam was a normal occurrence.

I gathered some things to make myself a sandwich, humming a little tune to myself. I felt peaceful. Happy. Maybe I’d already made a friend. Two good people wanted to give me a family. Everything seemed light and sweet, even my own thoughts.

When the sandwich was ready, I noticed that I had a little guest.

A gecko was climbing up the wall, behind the row of cups. He must have come in through the open window, enticed by the smell.

‘Hi,’ I whispered to him. There was no one watching who could judge me, so I didn’t feel ashamed. I knew that if anyone saw me they would probably think I was mad. But this was normal behaviour for me. Secret, but instinctive.

Some people talked to themselves, but I talked with animals. I had done so since I was a little girl, and sometimes I was certain that they could understand me better than other people could. Was talking to an animal really that much stranger than talking to yourself?

‘Sorry, I haven’t got anything to offer you,’ I informed him, drumming my fingertips on my lips. His flat fingers gave him a foolish, harmless look, and I cooed, ‘You’re such a little thing…’

‘Oh,’ a voice sounded behind me. ‘Nica!’

Norman appeared in the kitchen doorway.

‘Hi, Norman,’ I greeted him, surprised that he’d come home for lunch. Sometimes I happened to cross paths with him in the daytime, but only very rarely.

‘I just came by for a quick bite to eat…Who were you talking to?’ he asked, rummaging about for a bowl, and I smiled.

‘Oh, just with…’ but I faltered. The emblem of the dead beetle loomed before my eyes.

I quickly turned towards the little gecko and blanched when I saw him tilting his head and looking back at me. Before Norman looked up, I lunged for the creature and hid him behind my back.

‘… no one.’

Norman looked at me, confused, and I shrugged my shoulders with a nervous giggle. I felt the gecko wriggling in my hands like a little eel, and my wrists stiffened when I felt him nibbling one of my fingers.

‘Okay…’ he stammered, as my eyes darted from one side to another, searching for escape routes.

‘I’ve got a big job this afternoon. A client called this morning, I’ve got to pass by the warehouse to pick up…heavy artillery. If you catch my drift…Mrs Finch is going crazy, she swears she’s got a hornets’ nest in her –’

‘Oh, heavens!’ I burst out, pointing behind him. ‘What’s that?’

Norman turned around, and I took my chance. I hurled the gecko out the window. He whirled in the air like a spinning top and then landed somewhere on the lawn.

‘It’s a lamp…’

Norman turned back around, and I beamed at him. He looked at me, concerned, and I hoped that he hadn’t caught on to my crazy trick. By the looks of his expression, the opposite was true. He asked if I was all right, and I reassured him, trying to seem at ease, until once again he left me alone. I heard the front door close and let out a breath, a little disheartened.

Would I ever manage to make a good impression? To be liked, despite my slightly strange and unusual ways?

I looked at the Band-Aids on my hands and sighed. My nightmares came to mind, but I pushed them away into a far corner before they could ruin everything.

I washed my hands and ate calmly, relishing every second of that normal moment, in that normal house. As I ate, I silently watched the little bowl on the floor in the corner of the kitchen.

I had heard scratching outside my door the past few nights, but when I told Anna she had just waved her hand.

‘Oh, don’t worry about it,’ she had said. ‘It’ll just be Klaus. He’ll decide to show up sooner or later…He’s a solitary sort.’

I wondered when he would let me get to know him.

After washing up the plates and cutlery, I checked that everything was as tidy as Anna had left it, went upstairs, and spent the rest of the afternoon studying in my room.

I got lost in algebraic equations and the dates of the Wars of Succession, and it was evening by the time I finished my homework. I stretched, and I realised that the finger the gecko had nibbled had gone red and was throbbing. Maybe I should put a Band-Aid on it…A green one, like him, I thought, as I left my room.

Lost in thought, I headed to the bathroom and reached for the door handle. Before I could even touch it, however, it turned.

I looked up just as the door opened. I found myself pinned under two magnetic, black eyes. I shuddered in surprise and jumped back.

Rigel had calmly appeared in the doorway. Plumes of steam rose from his shoulders – he must have just taken a shower.

Once again, his presence gave me a visceral feeling of discomfort.

I had never managed to be indifferent towards him. His black eyes were two deep pits from which it was impossible to hide. They were the Tearsmith’s eyes. It didn’t matter that they weren’t pale like in the legend. Rigel’s eyes were dangerous, even if they were the opposite colour to what the tale told.

He leant his shoulder against the edge of the door, his hair brushing against its frame. Rather than moving out of the way, he crossed his arms and stood there, staring at me.

‘I need to get past,’ I informed him stiffly.

The steam was still billowing around him, making him seem like a demon at the gates of hell. I shuddered as I imagined stepping into that mist, letting myself be engulfed by his scent…

‘Come on in,’ he invited, showing no sign of moving.

I hardened my gaze and stared at him reproachfully. I knew what he was doing.

‘Why are you doing this?’

I didn’t want to play this game, I wanted him to stop it, to leave me in peace.

‘Doing what?’

‘You know full well what,’ I said, trying to sound tough. ‘It’s what you’ve always done.’

It was the first time that I had dared to speak to him so directly. Ours had always been a relationship of silences, of things left unsaid, of sarcasm and naïvety, snaps and flinches. I’d never wasted time trying to understand his behaviour, I’d always steered clear of him. Strictly speaking, you couldn’t really call what we had a relationship.

The corner of his mouth curled up into a mocking sneer.

‘I can’t resist.’

I wrung my hands.

‘You won’t do it,’ I burst out, as resolutely as I could. My voice sounded loud and clear, and I saw his expression darken.

‘Do what?’

‘You know what!’ I snapped.

I was tense, almost on my tiptoes, and I was burning with a powerful emotion. Was it stubbornness or desperation?

‘I won’t let you do it, Rigel. I won’t let you ruin this…You hear me?’

I was tiny, and my hands were covered in Band-Aids, but I stared him straight in the eyes because I felt the urgent need to defend my dream. I believed in tenderness and goodness, in gentle voices and quiet movements, but Rigel brought out aspects of my personality that I struggled to recognise. It was just like in the legend…

At that moment I noticed that his expression had changed. He was no longer smiling, but his dark eyes were fixed on my lips.

‘Say that again,’ he murmured quietly.

I set my jaw, determined.

‘I won’t let you do it.’

Rigel was staring at me intensely. His eyes ran all over my body, and the shudder that ran through me dented my confidence. My stomach turned. Under his slow examination, I felt as if he was touching me. A moment later, he unfolded his arms and started to move.

‘Again,’ he whispered, taking a step towards me.

‘I won’t let you ruin this,’ I said, starting to get worried.

Another step. ‘Again.’

‘You won’t ruin this.’

But the more I said it, the closer he came.

‘Again,’ he insisted, and I stiffened, confused and concerned.

‘You won’t ruin this…You won’t…’

I bit my lip and took a step backwards.

He was standing right in front of me now.

I was forced to lift my chin up and, heart in my throat, met his piercing gaze. His eyes were fixed on me. The sunset was a crumb of light that his dark eyes devoured.

Rigel took another step forward, as if to re-emphasise his point, and I tried to take another backwards, but my back was to the wall. My eyes urgently flashed up to meet his, and I saw him bend down towards me. I stiffened as he drew close to my ear, and his deep voice echoed in my head.

‘You don’t even realise how fragile and innocent you sound.’

I tried not to shudder, but my soul felt naked in front of Rigel. He could make me tremble without even touching me.

‘You’re shaking. You can’t even bear to be close to me, can you?’

I suppressed the urge to put my hand out to push him away. There was something…something telling me that I shouldn’t touch him. That if I put my hands on his chest to push him away, I would do irreparable damage to the distance between us…

There was an invisible wall between Rigel and I. And his eyes had always warned me not to bridge it, not to make that mistake.

‘Your heart’s beating like mad,’ he murmured at my throat, where my pulse was racing. ‘You’re not scared of me, are you, little moth?’

‘Rigel…please, stop this.’

‘Oh, no, Nica,’ he reproached in a soft growl, his tongue clicking. ‘You have to stop this. All this defenceless cooing like a little nightingale…will only make matters worse.’

I don’t know where I found the strength to push him away. I only know that one minute, Rigel was there, his toxic breath on my skin, and the next he was a few steps away from me with his brow furrowed.

But it wasn’t me…There was something darting around his feet, making him retreat even further. Two yellow eyes were shooting arrows through the dark, staring at us with slit pupils.

The cat hissed at him with flattened ears, then bolted down the stairs, almost tripping Anna up.

‘Klaus!’ she exclaimed. ‘You almost tripped me up! Finally decided to show up, have you, you crusty old cat?’

She was surprised to find us on the landing.

‘Oh, Rigel, he always hides in your room. He’s used to curling up under the bed in there…’

I didn’t hear any more, because I seized the opportunity to rush away.

I hurriedly shut myself in the bathroom, hoping that that would be enough to banish his noxious presence from inside of me, from the world, from everything. I leant my forehead on the hard doorframe and closed my eyes, but he was still there, with his silky voice and his destructiveness.

I tried to get him off my skin, but the steam enveloped me, infused me with his smell.

It infested me, reaching down as far as my stomach.

Taking deeper breaths was useless, it felt like I was drowning.

Not all poisons have an antidote. Some of them get into your soul, stupefy you with their scent and have eyes more beautiful than any you’ve ever seen before.

And there’s no cure for them.

None at all.