A Summer’s Tragedy

Stalin explains everything to Callisto. She told him that even though she hadn’t seen the world yet, the goddess of Mount Octover had already cursed her, and she didn’t know why, because she hadn’t committed any sins to anyone but her mother, who was a little bit grim.

“Don’t you really remember anything?” Callisto asked.

“If I have, then why don’t I even know you?” Stalin replied.

Because of that question, Callisto also narrated to her anything that happens every time she’s with him. Such as the place where they first met. At that time, she wanted to commit suicide, and even the way she would kiss him, he didn’t lie.

There was just one thing he didn’t tell Stalin, and not that he was the one who kissed her, but that she turned into a crazy girl during the daytime. It doesn’t matter anymore, he thought. He knows that Stalin would just become more sad if she knew that the girl she becomes every time the roaster crows has autism.

“That ain’t funny.” Although Stalin could smile because of Callisto’s story, the expression on her face still gradually changed. “I don’t know what to do now that my mother has passed away. Perhaps I’ll also follow her.”

“Don’t say that, Stalin. Your mother won’t be happy if you follow her.” Callisto got closer and spread his arms around her. “Don’t worry too much; I have promised your mother that I would take care of you.”

Stalin couldn’t prevent herself from crying. Although there were many things messing with her mind, she could hear the allegiance in Callisto’s words. She wanted to go near her mother, but there was no chance because of the indiscriminate curse.

“Thank you so much, Callisto.” Stalin stood up and glanced through the window of her room instead of at her mother, who was inside the coffin.

Callisto thought: she couldn’t endure seeing her mother inside the coffin. So he just closed the door and went towards her. This night seemed so long and lost, as if to say, time is long when we’re lamenting.

“Don’t be so sad, Stalin. Everyone’s time to die won’t refuse to come, but we don’t have the right to cut off our own lives, however worst it is,” Callisto tried to persuade her.

“My mother had passed away. I couldn’t sleep thinking of her. I don’t know why I’m the one who was cursed amongst billions of people in this world.” She faced Callisto with eyes filled with tears.

Callisto can’t measure the sorrow felt by Stalin. He doesn’t even know what the feeling of being left by any member of the family is. He didn’t know how to remove that sadness that surrounds her existence, so he just made her lean down on his shoulder; he wanted to make her feel that she wasn’t alone in this fight.

Although sad, Stalin could still whisper, “thank you.”

The moon, like a pale melon, slowly drifted across the wide sky, and night eventually turned into day. Callisto found himself lying on Stalin’s bed. He slightly scratched his eyelids and everything became apparent in his sight. But when he looked around, he saw no one; he didn’t know where Stalin went.

It crossed his mind that Stalin was so gregarious. A girl like her, she’s demure and beautiful when night falls, but when daytime. She definitely can’t control herself right now; she can’t remember anything she did during the daytime. Callisto hurriedly got out of that bedroom and saw the wooden coffin below.

He remembered his promise to Stalin’s mother: he wouldn’t abandon her whatever happened, and so he did what was in his mind. He left the poor, dead woman alone in that house and began searching for the crazy girl. But instead of Stalin, Callisto found Linley along with her friends Caroline, Adelaide, and Delilah.

The three girls were teasing Linley when Callisto stopped at their front and attempted to say something, but Linley wasn’t that easy to catch. She ignored him. So instead of coercing her to forgive and forget what he did, Callisto just did what he needed to do. He eventually found Stalin at the place where they always met.

“You crazy girl, what are you doing here?” Callisto asked, but Stalin didn’t reply. She just stared at him with astonishment.

Even her clothes have changed. How much more her way of thinking? In Callisto’s eyes, she’s still beautiful, and the impression he has of her has never changed. He’s also eager to grant his promise to her mother, whatever it takes.

Stalin wasn’t saying anything, just staring at him, confused and bewildered. So Callisto just carried her even though she seemed to be heavier and more vigorous than him. It was because he couldn’t really convince her to go with him in a gentle way.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

After a few moments of playing the strenuous game, which is unenjoyable, Stalin sighs and viscous sweats told Callisto that she was exhausted of escaping, so instead of insisting on running, she just let him take her anywhere he wanted.

“O darling, what happened to you yesterday that you have just come back now, and who’s this girl with you, huh?” Dorothy asked.

“I’m sorry mom,” Callisto apologized. “She’s Stalin, and as I told you on the telephone yesterday, her mother had just died, and she had nowhere to go because her father had also gone.”

“And who told you to bring her here?” Dorothy asked.

“Look mom, I have promised her mother that I will take care of her when she’s gone. She has autism and no one is going to take care of her. I don’t want to fall short of my promises,” Callisto explained.

“Well, I can’t contradict that, because I’m not the one who’s striving hard to support our family. But you must consult your father about this. And if he didn’t let you take care of the responsibility that’s not really yours, you could do nothing but let her go.”

Dorothy turned and entered their house, and so did Callisto and Stalin, who followed her. Stalin was still astonished by what was happening. Her eyes strayed anywhere and around the house in amazement.

Finally, her brother is back, Ruth thought. But what about the crazy girl? She appeared to be jealous of what she was thinking: that her brother wouldn’t take care of her anymore.

Especially when he asked her to get a glass of water for that crazy girl, she knew her brother had forgotten her. Ruth’s rival had to disappear in order to gain her brother’s attention. She planned like an old person.

Ruth continued walking inside the dining room and got a glass of water. When she realized the opportunity, it spontaneously appeared. Ruth came back to the living room with a glass of water. She gave it to her brother, who, in turn, handed it to Stalin, who was reluctant to accept it.

Even just to drink a cup of water, Stalin needs someone’s help. But it seemed that, in a gentle way, Callisto had convinced her to drink it. Meanwhile, Ruth was just looking at them, preparing for what could happen next, but there was nothing. She just wasted her time.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom upstairs, Sebastian was searching for something in the dusty closet. He remembered it was just hanging there, but he had forgotten that his son had borrowed them a few days before.

He scratched his head and got out of the room, but he scratched his head again, not because he saw Callisto wearing the clothes he was searching for, but because his son brought a stranger, an ugly-inexplicable-girl into their house.

Although Sebastian was just taking the stairs, his eyes were asking, “Who’s that girl with my son?” When he’s at their front, he doesn’t really need to ask because Callisto understands the way his father would act, and now he’s curious about the girl beside him.

“Who’s she?” Sebastian sounded mad. “Your girlfriend?”

“No dad, she’s Stalin, my friend,” Callisto replied.

“There are too many girls out there; why her?”

“Do you mean she’s so ugly that we can’t be friends?” Callisto asked. “Who are you to judge someone without knowing them?”

Callisto’s words awoke the heat inside Sebastian’s flesh. He was going to lift his son a fist with looming veinules, but fortunately, Dorothy suddenly emerged from the kitchen. As a light in their house, she easily noticed that her husband and son seemed to be fighting, so she went between them.

“Hey, don’t be so mad at your son,” Dorothy suggested. She stared back at Callisto. “And who are you to speak to your father like that, huh? It was just one night that you didn’t sleep here, and now you have become so disrespectful.” She scoffed.

“Sorry mom,” Callisto apologized. But in his mind, he’s grateful that his mother had good timing, because if she hadn’t, he’d already gotten another black eye from his father.