The Riddler

 The Riddler

              It was a normal day here in Jakarta. No murders ever, especially in Turi street. Okay, except for the tornado that happened a few weeks ago. My family and I were on the way to a congress in Monas. Ugh, another one of the presidential meetings for my dad, and as usual, the whole family has to come. To vanquish my boredom, I brought my iPhone for music and games. Also to chat with my few friends. As traffic (which is totally normal in Jakarta) struck the street, I grabbed my iPhone and put on my earphones, pressed my favorite Vocaloid, IA, and listened to one of her famous songs, Headphone Actor. Yep, I’m an otaku and a Voca-fan.

              My phone suddenly vibrated. I glanced at the notifications and saw that my friend Nisa Line-d me.

              “Elle… My sister…” she wrote.

             “Hey Nisa. What’s up?”

             “She’s dead.”

             After the congress, my family and I went to the funeral of Rosemary and her friend, Ayu, Nisa’s beloved older sister. Their bodies were found at Ayu and Rosemary’s school garden this morning, and I was shocked and pale to find out that Ayu and Rosemary were eyeless. Someone plucked out their eyeballs. Nisa told me with extreme sadness and shock that their kidneys and hearts were gone too. Nisa couldn’t talk for a whole month. I tried comforting her or just talking to her about little things. But she wouldn’t even protect me from bullies that hate bookworms such as myself. Nisa just watched as I got dragged at lunchtime to the toilet for my head to be dunked in toilet water.

              “Please, I beg you. What have you got against book lovers!?” I yelled after one dunk.

              “You waste your time on reading words that have cliché endings anyway. What do you care about adventures that don’t even exist!?” Alison, the biggest bully everyone’s afraid of demanded.

              I was about to be dunked again when suddenly all the lightbulbs in the toilet exploded, making Alison jump. I laughed at her reaction. She was about to punch my face when light burst from the big mirror. Alison let go of me and gasped, looking at the mirror. I turned around, looking at a girl’s figure using our school’s uniform, wore glasses and had curly, brown hair that ended at her shoulders. She was closing her eyes and was clutching on a thick book, and was inside the mirror. Alison looked like she was about to pass out. I gasped and walked toward the mirror. I didn’t move my legs, my muscles just moved themselves. I tried to stop or even scream, but my body wouldn’t budge.

              Alison yelled, “Elle! What are you doing!?”

               I couldn’t answer. The girl opened her mouth and eyes, and her eyes dripped with blood, spilling all over her cheeks. She answered, “Alison Sylvia. You have no right to hurt anyone more knowledgeable than you.”

             My feet walked me out of the toilet. I gasped, finally able to control myself again. I opened the door a bit to see and hear what was happening. Alison was shuddering, unable to move while the girl in the mirror smirked.

             “I’m going to ask you some questions. If you can answer them, you’ll live.”

             Alison shook her head. “I don’t kno—”

             “Who is Jace Herondale’s girlfriend and significant other?” the girl’s voice beamed all over the room. I know the answer! Clarissa Fairchild!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             I looked around, and the hallway was silent, but echoed with the girl’s voice. Alison shook her head again, crying. “I don’t know…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             The girl closed her eyes and shrieked, making Alison’s ears bleed. For some reason, my ears didn’t.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “Liesel Meminger was an orphan, and lost her brother during the war. Who adopted her?” Rosa and Hans Hubermann…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">              Alison gasped and looked at her. “My friend told me a story about her… Hans Hubermann and Rosa Hubermann… Right?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “Are you sure?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             Alison nodded, blood spilling even more from her ears. “I-I’m sure.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “Correct. Now, America Singer is of what caste?” the girl asked. She’s around 4-5! I read the books!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             Alison stuttered, “B-but I thought y-you were gonna l-let me l-live!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “Minerva Octan lies sometimes. Now, do you know what caste America is?” the girl, Minerva stated.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “Isn’t America a country?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “It’s also a girl’s name!” Minerva raged, shrieking. Alison gasped, blood spilled out of her eyes this time and puking out something—her heart!?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             Minerva sighed and raised her eyebrows whilst saying, “You’re just a stupid bully who’s jealous of nerds. Only having your followers who are loyal to you because they are afraid of you. You wish you’re a loser like Elle because she is smarter than you, and have better friends than you. Oh wait, you don’t even have friends. Rest in regret, devil.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             I gasped, finally knowing that no one will bully me again once they see Alison’s crumpled body. I went pale and couldn’t believe what I saw, then fainted in shock.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             I woke up in my room. My mother smiled and hugged me, tears making her cheeks wet. I was confused, but after I asked her what happened, it made me baffled. She said I walked home from school at lunch time. I collapsed on my bed and didn’t wake up after three days, after Alison’s funeral. What actually happened?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “Alison emang bego, ya?” Nisa, finally able to talk, told me. (Alison sure is stupid, isn’t she?)

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “Tapi kasihan,” I sighed. (But I feel sorry for her.)

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “''Kasihan apanya? Dia yang ga punya teman. Kerjaannya ngebully terus.''” (What is there to feel sorry for her? She doesn’t have any friends. All she does is bully.)

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             I went silent.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “''Eh, gue mau minta maaf. Harusnya gue yang bantuin lo sebelum ditarik sama si sinting buat ditenggelemin di toilet. Kakak gue bikin gue down banget. Mau maafin ga''?” (Hey, I want to apologize. I’m supposed to help you before you got dragged by the psychopath to be dunked in the toilet. My sister made me really down. Can you forgive me?)

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             I hugged her. “''Iya lah. Gue ‘kan ga sejahat Alison''.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             Even though everything was happy for me, Alison’s death left no trace of the murderer. Even the lightbulbs were whole again, and the mirror didn’t leave any signs of supernatural events. But I still couldn’t get the image of Alison’s heart being coughed out. Blood everywhere. I know this is supposed to be a happy ending, but at night, I still can’t sleep comfortably. Ever since her death. And who is this Minerva Octan? No records of her were ever found.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             One night on the anniversary of Alison’s death, I fell asleep peacefully. I didn’t know why. I dreamt that I was in the girls’ toilet at school, where she was murdered. I looked at the mirror, and suddenly a hand went out of the mirror. I screamed and fell on my rear on the floor. When I blinked, Minerva was in front of me. Her body let out a blazing aura. I stood up and saw that she was the same height as me. She took out a bloody knife and suddenly slashed me in the heart. I could feel the pain, agonizingly stinging me. She cackled like a psychopath, while still slashing me with the knife. I was already lying on the ground, all my senses numb. Minerva slashed me one last time in the heart and giggled.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “Rescellia let me borrow her magic for a while. But I’m killing you right away, without giving you mental suffering. I don’t care. I know you’re not a bully, but I’m just obsessed with killing, sorry.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             Then everything went silent.

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;line-height:115%">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph; line-height:115%">             “Breaking news, a girl, Elliza Randa, 12, was found dead in her bed, with a deep gash deep in her heart. There was no trace of the murderer, or any break-ins from the house. It was most likely that she killed herself out of mental suffering.” []