chapter 14

Girl

THERE WAS A familiar tall thin figure waiting for them when they got

off the bus, and Suraya blinked in surprise. Her mother had never

met her at the bus stop like this before.

"Hello, Mama," she said, then paused, unsure of what to say

next.

"Hello." Mama's pale face was illuminated by the glow of the

setting sun, which was busy setting the sky on fire as it plunged

below the horizon. "Your school called. They told me about your . . .

friend."

"Oh." Suraya looked down, thinking of Jing's pale face, her blood-

spattered uniform.

"She will be fine." And Mama reached out a hand and patted

Suraya stiffly on the shoulder, twice.

Jing's mother might have gathered her up in a hug, she thought,

held her close, let the warmth seep into her tired, heavy limbs,

kissed her aching head. But Suraya knew that this was the best she

could hope for, and she appreciated the gesture for what it was.

"Yes," she said, with a confidence she didn't feel. "She will, I'm

sure."

"Well then." Mama turned and began to walk toward the house.

"Come on," she said over her shoulder. "I made gulai lemak ikan and sambal belacan today. You need a bath before you eat, you have

blood on you."

Suraya looked down, confused. There were blood stains on her

knees, and another running along the length of her forearm. She

hadn't even noticed.

Her stomach growled and she realized that, despite everything,

she was hungry.

Slowly, she followed her mother into the house.

In the darkness, Suraya searched for the right words.

She had been looking for them for a long time. Through her

shower, staring at the water as it dripped down the pale blue tiles

into the drain at her feet. Through dinner, where the silence was

punctuated only by the sounds of mealtime: chewing, water sipped

from glasses, the clink and scrape of metal against ceramic as

Suraya and Mama scooped food onto their plates. Through prayers

as she went through the motions, bending and bowing.

Until now.

Suraya was in bed. The only light in the room came from the

crack under the door, and from the weak moonlight that straggled in

through the window.

And then, finally, she spoke.

"Pink."

Yes?

A pause. "Why did you do it?"

He paused, as though thinking about this. I do not know, he said

finally. I do not like the girl, and I wanted to see her hurt.

"Why don't you like her?"

I do not know, he answered. I just do not.

"You do know." Her voice was quiet. "Tell me why you don't like

Jing, Pink."

It was a long time before he could speak again. Because you like

her, he said sullenly. I do not like her because you like her.

"I do like her. She's my best friend, the first real friend I've ever

had. She's the reason I've finally been HAPPY. For the first time in

my whole life."

The watery moonlight caught his little grasshopper eyes, and in

the darkness they seemed to flash. And me? Have we not been

happy together, you and I? What have I been to you, then, all this

time?

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "You're just . . . you. You

can't be the kind of friend Jing is, Pink." It was hard to get the words

out.

And so what kind of friend must I be?

"The kind that doesn't hurt my other friends, for one thing."

There was a long silence. Suraya stared out of the window at the

lights in the distance and prayed for the strength to say what she

knew she must.

"I've been thinking, Pink."

The nerves almost choked her, making it hard to get the words

out. Suraya paused, and it was as if the whole world paused, waiting

for the words that would change everything. When they finally came,

they came in a rush, as if they were relieved to finally escape her

tongue.

"I think it's time you stopped following me around."

There was a hiss, like air escaping a balloon. But Pink said

nothing.

"I'm twelve now, almost thirteen. I'm making my own friends. I

have my own life. I don't need you tagging along and destroying

things whenever you feel like it."

I am bound to you, Pink said then, his voice barely above a

whisper. I am bound to you, until the end.

"Then this is the end, Pink."

The words were hard to get out.

You dare dismiss me? Just like that? After all I have done for

you?

"Done for me?" She felt a spark of rage. "So you're saying I

should be grateful?"

I have done nothing but protect you. I have done nothing but be

your friend. He paused. For a long time, your only friend. The slight,

sneering emphasis was faint, but it was there, and Suraya heard it.

"And I never asked for that protection! I never asked for any of

this! You took my blood without my consent, and now you think I should bow down and throw myself at your feet? You never gave me

a choice!" She threw off the covers and sat up in her bed, glaring at

him. "I am your master, and I command you to leave."

Then I will, he snapped. I will. But you will find you cannot be rid

of me so easily.

And with a sound like thunder, he disappeared.

Suraya leaned back on her pillows, exhausted. Her heart

pounded hard in her chest, a steady rhythm that echoed in her head

and made it ache. But despite all of this, what she felt most was

relief. Pink, she thought hopefully, would soon come to see that this

was best for both of them.

In the meantime, for the first time in a long while, she would face

the world tomorrow without her ghost on her shoulder. And there was

so much of it to explore.