Chương 30: Chapter Thirty
Raphael wanted to leave the church as soon as possible. When he passed certain rooms, he recalled what had happened in there, and when he stayed in his room he was reminded of the hours on end he had been locked in there.
Sam met him in the main prayer room of the church, standing awkwardly at the last row of seats staring at the High Priest who delivered a service. His voice echoed seamlessly in the room, preaching from the Bible to the dozen or so people who attended.
"Not religious?" Raphael asked. He startled Sam as they almost shouldered his chin.
"Jeez, Phantom," they said placing a hand to their chest. "And no, I'm a minority in religion."
"No shame there," Raphael replied listening to the Father's anthology of fables and passages.
"Is he one of the corrupt Priests?" Sam asked as they folded their arms.
Raphael shook his head, "No. Fr. Brian is a good one."
He remembered times when Fr. Brian would offer sweets for sadder children, aware of the problems the 'orphans' had but was determined to make their time there bearable. A memory he held fondly of the man was when he had attempted to escape the church grounds, and Fr. Brian had caught him. He had let him go on the condition he brings back a book from a library.
"You feel well enough to leave?" Sam asked.
Raphael nodded, "I need to leave this place." He attempted to take a deep breath, but grimaced as he held his side, "You didn't have to wait with me."
"I like to see things through," Sam replied turning to him.
There was a loud creak as one of the double doors opened, one of the nuns leading two rows of children into the front of the rows; one row of boys and one row of girls. The boys were dressed up in their navy-blue trousers and matching waistcoat, while the girls were dolled up in white dresses, their hair tied up with white ribbon. It took Raphael a long time to find Anita amongst the girls, the last in line wearing an extravagant dress he knew she would've objected to wearing. While the other kids lifted their chins when they walked, having been taught to do this from months of scolding, Anita stared down at her feet, not necessarily miserable looking, but contently gloomy. Almost tired looking. Defeated.
Raphael stared, following her until she sat down at the end of the benches. Not once did she lift her head. He knew she knew he was there.
Seeing her in this state intensified the guilt that rested in Raphael's stomach.
"I'm leaving," he informed.
Sam sighed and nodded, "I'll walk you out. I should get going as well. My Father is probably worried about where I am."
Raphael agreed, "I'd imagine so."
The pair started walking to the door, Sam glancing over their shoulder. He spoke, "So you're really leaving her here."
Raphael was determined to steel himself, straightening his posture and continuing to march out of the church. It was much more difficult for him to keep his head straight then he anticipated.
"She's better off here than with me."
He saw Sam rest their hands on the back of their head, arching their gaze to the ceiling and heard them sigh.
"If you say so, Phantom."
When the pair got outside, Raphael was blinded by the sunlight, having not gone outside all day.
"Do you plan on turning me in?" he asked, massaging where his bullet wound was.
"Do you plan on stealing anymore?" they countered.
He shook his head, declaring he had no more artworks to take. "I just need to return a portrait," he explained.
Sam nodded, "I personally think you've punished yourself enough, Phantom." They dismissed Raphael with a small wave, "I'm not going to turn you in, the last thing I want is my Father to find you."
Raphael stared in awe at Sam as they continued out the gate, turning once at the foot of it and offering a farewell wave. "But if I find out you're still stealing artworks, I won't hesitate to apprehend you, Phantom."
Raphael smirked, "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Sam."
Sam nodded matter-of-factly, before turning down the street, disappearing from Raphael's sight.
Raphael held his coat closer to him, his waist too sore to button it up, as he too went to leave the church.
"Raphael!" The voice was female, and for a split second, he believed it to be Anita, which crushed him but recognised it to be Maria, which infuriated him. He turned to his side and watched her jog towards him, holding his fedora.
"You forgot your hat." The closer she came, the quieter her voice seemed.
He recognised a heaviness in her head, unable to meet his eyes. He knew she felt guilty, but found he was happy she felt so bad. He gritted his teeth at this acknowledgement and wondered why. That didn't stop him from fixing a glare on her or snatching his hat when she presented it to him. He didn't offer thanks.
"Raphael… I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen," Maria attempted, her eyes cast down as she twiddled her thumbs. "I swear, if I had known what was going to happen I never would've-"
"Why did you take me here?" Raphael asked, cutting her off.
When Maria didn't answer straight away, he grew irritated and continued, "Why of all places did you take me here? Not back to my apartment where we have medical supplies, or even a hospital, or one of the shops on the street we were on?"
Maria gulped and replied, "It was the only place I could think of…"
"You took me here for a bullet graze, Maria."
"We didn't know that when you got shot!" Maria snapped, "We thought you were going to die, Raphael! I brought you somewhere I knew they could help you."
Raphael smirked, "Yeah? Because of you, I had to give up the one thing in my life that was even close to family. I lost her! I can't get her back! I may as well be dead!"
Maria's eyes narrowed, "But you just said-"
"I know what I said. But that was to give her a reason! An understanding!" Raphael could feel tears forced to his eyes.
"By telling her you don't want her?" Maria countered.
"That seems easier than her knowing there was no way I could protect her out here. Because I obviously can't take care of her anymore! I can't protect her from what is after me, and from what is after you!" Raphael looked away from Maria, he was so angry, one hand in a tight fist and the other gripping the rim of the fedora. "If you hadn't taken me here, none of that would've happened! If you hadn't come to us for help that night on the bridge, I would still be capable of taking care of her!" He raised his fist at Maria, never intending to hit her, but she staggered back.
She resolved herself, "That's… that's not fair, Raphael. You know that's not fair."
Raphael dropped his hand and shook his head violently, "None of this is fair. This whole thing isn't fair. I can't protect her from the Unknown Royals from hurting her, but I know leaving her here they can't touch her! But I also know, she is now trapped there for who knows how long!" Raphael recognised he was yelling, and forced himself to calm down, realising people were peeking out the windows. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, attempting to hide the oncoming tears.
"How is it fair my Father just up and abandoned me without a reason? How is it fair my Father left behind nothing but a legacy of thievery? How is it fair that I had to suffer in that church for a year because he couldn't be bothered to let anyone know he's alive?" Raphael turned away from her, attempting to hide his tears from her, "How is it fair that you get to just go home like nothing happened, while the rest of us here are scarred by what you've caused?"
"Don't you dare," Maria demanded, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to turn around. "Don't you dare blame this on me. You can't be mad at me for something that is completely out of my control! This is as much my fault as it is your own."
Raphael held his side, the sudden turn around sending a jolt of pain up his arm and down his leg. He pushed aside his rage as he forced a carefree smile, based on her widened expression, his sudden change in demeanour was successful.
"You're right," he confessed coolly, "I won't blame you for what happened, I know you were doing what you thought best." Maria didn't say anything, so he continued, "But this is the last time I want to see you, to talk to you, ever. Do not come to me for help, do not come to me for protection from those Unknown Royals, and do not come to me for some sort of friendship or amends." Maria's face slowly continued to drop, her eyes tearing up with each word. "You may be right, and this isn't entirely your fault. But I choose to blame some of what's happened on you."
"Raphael-"
"No." He held a hand up to her, "I've failed. It was silly of me to think I could protect that girl as no one could protect me. Everyone has made that brutally clear to me. What you've done isn't something you can fix, nor do I doubt you'll ever actually understand the severity of what's going on here." Raphael wiped his eyes, no longer caring if Maria saw him cry, "I'm grateful you cared enough about me to worry and react the way you did when I was hurt, but…" He held a civilised hand out to Maria, who stared at it, confused, until she gained the sense to take it in a handshake. "May we never meet again, Maria, goodbye."
He watched Maria's other hand reach up to the pendant, holding it through the chest of her dress. Despite the fabric over it, he could see it pulsing a bright green. He took his hand back, suddenly unable to breathe, as he turned on his heels and marched away.
Away from the church.
Maria.
Anita…
Raphael held his head high. To the people on the street he passed he appeared relaxed, he gave a charming smile to some and offered a polite good day to ladies and gentlemen. He was stopped in the street by his neighbour, an old woman of seventy-nine who was as blind as a bat, who asked about what the ruckus was about the night before, as she claimed to have heard yelling. Raphael, without a stutter, spun a lie involving a pair of cats and their hermit neighbour Bernard, whom he knew would never cross paths with his elderly neighbour. He gave a tip of the hat and walked directly home without any issue.
He approached the apartment with a forced skip in his step. He opened the mailbox, not expecting anything, before gleefully pulling open the gate and gently closing it behind him. Ignoring the burning in his right side, he gripped the poker still stuck in the garden as he walked past it on the path. He yanked it out of the ground on the way and swung it lazily about as he approached the door.
The doorknob was colder then he anticipated, prompting a shiver that ached his stomach. It brought attention, however, to the ring pulsing on his right hand. The Ring of Liberty. He believed to be an ironic name now. He noticed it more vividly when he entered his dark house. It was pulsing furiously, its lime green light reflecting even underneath his skin.
Now in the privacy of his own home, Raphael allowed his breathing to harden, to hiss through his teeth as he hunched over, holding his stomach and side, and yelling to the ground. He still held the iron poker as he threw his head up and arched his back as he continued screaming.
What was often a cathartic expression, did nothing to ease the tension in his chest or in his head. Frustrated, he threw the poker into the dining room, almost hoping it would smash into something made of glass. He heard it crash, but nothing broke.
His chest heaved, forcing his head to rise and fall. His hands knocked off his hat as he furiously pulled at hair, no longer sure what he was wincing at.
Against the walls, the ring was still beating the green light. Raphael growled as he looked at his hand, furious with its jade etchings. The sight of it infuriated him as he attempted to rip the hoop off his hand, without success. This made him angrier, throwing himself around the apartment to try and get it off. He cursed at the top of his lungs, kicked things, throwing anything not tied down. It soon wasn't about taking the ring off anymore, just about hurting himself.
He threw off the contents of a dresser, that being a lamp, a small box of hair accessories and a picture frame, and started bashing his fists against the top. At first, his efforts were in vain, resulting in nothing more than an ache in his hands.
But he continued, punching the wood repeatedly, harder and harder, feeling the wood bend at his will. It started to splinter, cracking under his force.
"Ahh!" He combined his hands into one fist and slammed it down, cracking the wood and breaking the surface of the dresser.
Raphael panted heavily, his whole body inflated and deflated with each deep breath. He gritted his teeth as the sting of his hands travelled up his arms, opening his eyes he was shocked by the damage he had caused, but more frightened by the blood on his hands from the splinters.
He had a moment of calm between the anger. A moment where he was horrified, disgusted, stunned and, in the end, sad. So... sad.
He slowly retracted his hands, his feet dragging backwards in small steps until he hit the lounge. His arms tensed up and began to tremble as it dawned on Raphael had done. Despite this, he closed his fists, in some places pushing the splinters deeper into his skin and in others stretching them. His breathing calmed as he looked at the wrecked dresser, his eyes lifting to look around the empty apartment.
He was alone.
He hadn't felt truly alone for a long time.
It was claustrophobic, weighing down on his shoulders. He attempted to back away from it. His back hit the bookcase in the corner as the room loomed over him. His foot tapped something that clicked. He looked down and saw his mother's golden ruby necklace he had given Anita for the palace ball.
Raphael realised he was standing where Anita had sat the night before, where she rocked for likely hours on end, terrified.
Waiting for him to come home.
Raphael made deliberate punches against his bullet wound, angry at himself. Still holding the necklace, he yelled again, pulled at his hair, scraped an entire shelf of books off the bookcase, kicked them around, stomped on them, until it became exhausting and his hand was stuck from holding the necklace so firmly.
He cried. He needed the wall for support as he lowered himself to the ground, his body fitting with each hitch of a cry. He refused to yell out again, but he felt something dig into his backside. He sniffed as he shifted about as he tried to weasel out what poked him. He pulled his Father's coin from his pocket.
Raphael found it hard to breathe upon seeing it. His eyes fogged up as he held his hands up to take in the jewellery of his Mother and the coin from his Father. He felt his chin tremble like a small child, it forced his teeth to chatter, making it easier for his eyes to cry.
He could only hear himself. The crushing realisation of how alone he was again made him feel cold. He hugged the objects to himself as he heavily leant on the wall. He tucked his legs to his chest and wept. Simply wept.
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực