Man of Fiction

By seven in the morning, Wilhelm got back to his house. Tiny Amos ran to his father and gave him a quick hug on the leg. Mr. Pemble warmly regarded this by patting his little blonde head. Emily bowed down respectfully to him, but Mr. Pemble only gave her one firm nod. Helena smiled at his presence, and she immediately placed a full plate of breakfast on his table. Mr. Pemble smiled in satisfaction, and he proceeded to chomping at his breakfast. Emily continued to pretend that nothing was going to happen.

A knock came to the door and Helena tilted her head in confusion. "I wonder who could it be, at this time?" she said. She turned to her husband, whose face was busy with the food that she cooked. She shrugged and walked to the front door. Emily sat quietly in her place, waiting anxiously. She soon heard her mother raise her voice again with someone. This brought Wilhelm's attention and he walked to the front door. Shortly after, the brunette followed and saw a concerned woman in a business uniform standing in the doorway. Behind her, were the same armored men who arrested the General Manager and Klaus Lapone. Wilhelm approached and asked, "What is going on here, officer?" he asked.

"I'm an officer from the Social Services Department," the woman said, holding up her identification. "May I know who the official legal inhabitants of this residence are?"

"If you're from the Ministry, then you know that answer very well."

"We're following protocol, sir." the woman insisted, sternly. She held up her clipboard and fixated her eyes on her documents. "Again, who are the official legal inhabitants of this household?"

"Just me and my wife, Mrs. Helena Pemble." he answered.

The woman read the file, which turned out to be their citizen information, and nodded. "Exactly thirty minutes after the curfew's end, I received a report of domestic violence in this particular address." she said.

"That's a bit too calculated." Mr. Pemble argued. "Where did the report come from?"

"I'm afraid we keep those kinds of things strictly confidential," the woman answered, "But we've already made a series of investigations, and we have confirmed that there were witnesses who heard cries and screams coming from this house. We'd first like to ask if everything is okay around these parts."

"Of course," Mr. Pemble innocently said, putting an arm around his shaken wife. "Everything is fine. My wife is just not used to having visitors."

"The witnesses stated that they mostly heard a child crying." stated the Social Services Officer. "Do you have a minor child?"

"We do but he doesn't know how to speak, yet."

"That's no problem," the woman smiled, confidently. "We only want to meet him."

Wilhelm brought the officer and her team to the living room. Helena brought in Amos, who looked at them curiously. The Social Services lady smiled at the boy, urging him to sit down with her. "Hello, you must be Amos." she said. The boy blankly stared at her, and her team wrapped a velcro strip around his right forearm. The velcro was attached to a small white machine, which had a screen showing an x-ray scan of the boy's body. Another member from the Social Service team had a scanner in hand. Emily raised her brows at the mysterious eastern machine.

"W-what is that?" Helena asked, pointing at it.

"It's a new tool that was recently developed by the Eastern Ministry." the woman replied. "It's a scanner that can detect internal and external injuries of a person's body. This computer will be able to analyze the causes of any present injuries that are detected. Do not worry, if you have nothing to hide, then the results will be null."

The machine beeped as soon as the woman's partner scanned Amos. The Social Services woman read the screen, which produced the results.

Victim Body Physical Damage at 56%

Details:

-75% Swollen muscle tissues and lower back injuries (Level: Severe ; Possible Causes: hitting with or without hard object)

-35.45% Hearing Loss (Level: Mild ; Possible Causes: Verbal Abuse)

-10.11% Strained Throat (Level: Light ; Possible Causes: Crying or Screaming)

Abuse Rate: 51.47 %

"The victim went past the Abuse Rate," the woman's partner said.

"What does that mean???' Helena sasked, worriedly.

"It means you have two options, Mr. and Mrs. Pemble," said the Social Services Lady, putting herself in front of the boy. "One of you can admit to the abuse that has been done to him, and the accused will be placed under arrest and will be transferred to the Lacras Detention Facility, where they will be confined for seven years. According to Eastern laws, those guilty of domestic violence and abuse will not have the privilege to go on trial or request bail."

But if you are innocent, then we can go straight to the Social Services Department, where you may contact your lawyer and follow our investigation procedures. My only warning is that once you accept the second option, neither of you can leave the premises until you have been proven innocent or guilty."

"Wait, how long will be the investigation?" Emily asked. "If they choose to go with that?"

"It depends, my dear." the officer said. "Our shortest investigation period was in a span of two months. Usually it lasts up to five to ten months."

She heard that people from the East refrained from getting into trouble, because of the lengthy investigations. According to some hearsays, being investigated or interrogated by the Eastern Ministry and Lacrassan Police Force was just as close to being in prison. Bewildered, Emily looked at her mother and stepfather. Her mother was also perplexed, but Mr. Pemble remained calm. He showed no signs of being bothered by the fact that his own son was abused, and it annoyed Emily. "We will be investigated." he said, patting Helena's back. "I have a lot to explain to Social Services."

Helena shook her head, dreading the idea of camping in a government building for months. "But honey--"

"We must follow the law, Helena." Mr. Pemble interrupted. "This is exactly why we moved here, because we can trust the law. I am aware of my actions, and I have nothing but good intentions. It is important that we must show these people that."

Mrs. Rose whimpered, still shaking her head. "What about Amos?" she asked. "Who's going to look after him?"

"We will take care of that," the woman answered, ordering her staff to take the boy away. "If that is your decision, you have fifteen minutes to pack your things and the Lacrassan Police outside will escort you to our office."

As soon as the Social Services team left the living room, Helena stomped to her daughter and slapped her across the face. "I know it's you! YOU DID THIS!" she scolded, wagging her finger at Emily. "You called them, EVEN THOUGH NOTHING IS HAPPENING HERE!"

Mr. Pemble surprisingly held her back, but Mrs. Rose pushed him away. "YOU THINK YOU UNDERSTAND MY SITUATION BUT YOU DON'T!" she screamed, her eyes going crazy. "EVERYTHING IS FINE! NO ONE IS SUPPOSED TO GET HURT! BUT YOU HAD TO RUIN EVERYTHING! NOW OUR FAMILY IS REALLY SUFFERING BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Her rage alerted the Lacrassan Police, who took her away by force. Emily watched her wailing mother get taken away, with her hand touching her warm cheek. Tears streamed down her face, when she gazed at Mr. Pemble. Her stepfather smirked and he shook his head at her. In spite of his arrogance, she could not bring herself to be angry. Only her culpability took control, and she began to question everything that she has done.

She walked out of the house, only to see Donnie and Leon parked next to the Lacrassan Police Van. The twin brothers ran to her, worriedly. Before they could ask anything, Emily started to cry. "I should not have done this," she weeped. "I made things worse."

Donnie wrapped his beefy arms around his sister and shushed her. "You only did what you thought was right," he said, rubbing her back.

"They're going to be investigated for months," she said. "They will also be confined."

"Yes, that's how things are around here." Donnie said, wiping her face. "I'm glad that you called me, last night. If you left this alone, who knows what could've happened to mom or the boy. It's for their own good."

"But why do I still feel guilty?" she asked him. "I tried to help, but I think I only made things worse."

"You didn't," Leon said, patting her back. He tried to smile for Emily, but his face was also masked with pain. "We saw...we saw how the police hauled mom into the van. I don't...I don't think she's in the right mind, anymore." This only made Emily cry more, and Leon ended up sobbing with her. Donnie placed his other arm around his brother, trying his best to control his own tears. The Rose three siblings wept as the police loaded the rest of their broken family into the van, and left. They never knew when they were going to see their mom, again.

"We still have each other," Donnie said, sniffing. "We lost mom, a long time ago. There's nothing else we can do but be together. Emily, I don't know what happened between you and mom, but please don't shut us out this time. You may live in Hembrandt, but please check in on us or talk to dad. You still have a family."

Emily wiped her eyes and nodded. "I know, I'm sorry." she said. The three remaining Rose children hugged each other, once more at the front of the abandoned Pemble Household. Through the pain, she finally gained what she has lost.

*****

"Gareth, you're bad at this game!"

The monk scratched his head at the complicated board game, before him. The girls took all of his play money, leaving him officially bankrupt and defeated. Gareth only knew how to repress feuds between violent mafia leaders, not manage some imaginary economics. "I thought the point was to accumulate all the land," he defended.

"Yes, but it's important to have the most money by the end of the game," giggled the Author's husband. "It's okay, maybe you'll get used to it after a couple of more rounds."

"I don't think so!"

The Author entered the small living room, in a new wrinkled polo shirt. Gareth wondered if the woman had ever heard of an iron. "Do you mind if I borrow Gareth for a while?" the Author requested her family. "There's something I have to discuss with him."

"Awww, but I wanted him to watch me win, mommy." the freckled girl pouted.

"Aren't you competitive, as ever!" the Author grinned. "You can show off your dancing skills, later. I think he would like that, more."

"I actually would," Gareth agreed, nodding. The freckled girl glistened at the negotiation and nodded. The Author urged the monk to follow her out of the loft, leaving the family to finish their game. "You negotiate with your children, very well." he commented, upon going outside.

"That's because my children have always been diplomatic." she shrugged. They headed downstairs and they sat by the nearest playground. The place's only company were them and the dried leaves that fell from the trees. The Author sat on the ground, and she patted the space next to her. Gareth sat next to her, feeling the crunchy leaves crack under him. "What do we need to talk about?" he asked.

The Author handed him a white envelope. He took it and asked, "What is this?"

"It's a letter from someone very dear to you," she said. "I took the liberty in telling her that you're here with me. She asked if I can send a message to you, and here it is."

Gareth's heart began to race and he gingerly took the envelope. "It's not really from her," he said. "My world does not exist here."

"And I'm the Author of that world." she said. "I can't write you back home, but I can write what my characters would truly feel about your situation. It's not much, but I hope it can give you some peace."

His thumb opened the envelope, and he slowly brought out a piece of folded paper. He stared at it for a while, scared of reading its contents. The Author stood from the ground and walked away, giving him some privacy. When she left the playground, Gareth finally unfolded the letter. He gasped, reading the familiar words.

'My beloved Gareth,

It has been thirteen months since the fall. The world is still broken, but everyone has been fixing the fractures with one act of kindness at a time. We are far from where we used to be, but we are slowly rising to the occasion. I'm positive that things will be even better than before.

The MHPC is no more, and they have united with other organizations from the Messi Continent to form a much more formidable military--one that protects every citizen, regardless of class and race. Your friends from the Company have been doing well. I recently attended the wedding of one of your closest friends. He misses you very much, and he did not ask anyone to be his best man.

The Meiyan Monastery has become more involved, since the Fall. Your master Hideki dubs this critical stage as The Reformation era. He and his fellow monks have been doing everything to stabilize the oppressed sectors, and so far things have been going well. He was able to take in a few more students. Master Hideki even swore that he would be more explicit in the teachings of the Qishi Energy, now that he fully understands it. With more people learning about the art of Meiyo, the monks are no longer worried about it dying out.

As for me, I'm still a doctor. I've treated people from approximately 89 areas. You don't have to worry about me, I'm watching over my health and I've never felt so alive. It feels good to see the smiles of healing families. I've been asked to be the leader of what was left of my organization, but I always turned it down. I don't think I'm that kind of doctor, anymore.

I still think of you, everyday. It may sound crazy, but I don't think you're dead. I can't help but feel that you are still alive. I have this daydream, you see. I imagine you waking up someplace, faraway. A place where there are no wars, famine, corruption, and hatred. You find a new form of housing to stay in, you venture into a new career path, and you gain more light-hearted friends. I imagine--no, I pray that you ended up in a place that you can finally call home. I pray that you no longer have to hide your distress behind such a charming smile. When you smile, it is only because you are happy. When you laugh, it is only because someone shared a joke with you. I am filled with hopes of what is possibly out there for you; that you are in a position where you do not have to pretend. Even though it means that we do not get to be together, my only wish for you is to have the peace that your heart truly yearns for. Deep in my heart, I hope that you found it, or that you will find it.

This is my final request: that you live fully and happily.

Everyday, I wish we met in different circumstances. I wished that you were a man free of revenge and pain, and that I was a woman who had no connections to that revenge and pain. In spite of our ill fate, we still loved and cared for each other. In a blink of an eye, you looked past your hate and saw me. I will forever cherish those times. But we have made our bed, and so here we are. The only comfort that I will carry, is the fact that the heavens still allowed us to meet. The biggest remainder of my love can only tell you to put this horrid past behind. It is an honor getting to know you, my one and only Protector. I am eternally grateful for the story we shared, and I will never forget you. I can only hope that my words and feelings will miraculously reach you and that you bury this into your soul.

Live well, my Gareth of Adonis. For yourself.

Forever yours,

Ro'

Tears dropped on the paper and the fresh black ink stained the letters. The Author may have written it, but the words belonged to Rowan. The feelings were hers, as well… and it was telling him goodbye.

The Author returned to the crying Gareth and sat beside him. The monk continued to cry, his head bowed down to the dry leaves. The Author sat still and waited, being a comforting presence. Soon he went back up, wiping his running nose. "Thank you," he told the Author. "Thank you so much."

The Author placed another larger brown envelope, on his lap. Without question, he opened it and he brought out a beige certificate. He raised it up and read its contents.

'The Helios People's Hospital declares the birth of GARETH TOSH, born on the day of 13th of JANUARY, in the year of 1990. The child is born MALE, and is the 1st offspring of NO MOTHER NAME and NO FATHER NAME (CHILD UNCLAIMED). This birth registry states that this child's birth of origin is HELIOS, LACRAS and has the right to legal documentation once the child turns of legal age.'

"Gareth Tosh," he read.

"Emily Rose told me that you were able to come here using a temporary travel pass." the Author explained. "That kind of means you are supposed to be here for your birth registry, which I'm sure you don't have. I pulled some strings and had someone create that for you."

"But why?"

She tapped on the document and said, "To live, and this is your ticket."

Gareth clutched his chest and closed his eyes. Operation Adonis was brought to a deadend. Whenever his missions reached such a point, it usually meant game over. It was either time to give up, or form a new plan. Gareth did not want to give up, but what was his next plan?

*****

It felt like ages, since Emily was back at the resort. Leon helped her down from the pick-up truck, pulling her again into another hug. "Don't forget to call us!" he said. Donnie also got down to give his sister an embrace, too.

She smiled, patting their broad backs. "I won't," she promised.

"Also, don't forget to call dad." Donnie said. "He gets lonely, sometimes."

"I will, don't worry."

Soon, a cab arrived at the resort's entrance. Gareth came out of the back seat, which made Leon instantly wave at him. "HEY GARETH!" he called out. The monk perked up and saw the Rose siblings. He managed a relaxed smile, as he walked towards them. Emily noticed how tired he looked, but the tension and anger was completely gone. The only thing that he carried was a large brown envelope, which was tucked in his right arm. He approached them like a soldier, finally discharged from duty. Filled with relief, despite the apparent exhaustion.

"Nice to see you, again." the monk greeted, casually.

"I heard you guys are going back to the West, tomorrow." Donnie said. "I hope you guys get to come back, soon."

"I hope so, too." Gareth said. "I promised Leon and HIram that we would go to the...gym."

"Yes!" Leon squealed. "You better keep your word!"

"Of course,"

"Well, safe travels!" Donnie said, heading back to the driver's seat. The pick-up truck left the resort, with Donnie's waving hand sticking out from the driver's window. The two waved back, until the vehicle was out of sight. Gareth nodded to Emily, heading inside the resort. The brunette silently followed him.

They walked down the long stony steps, and the cool breeze welcomed them back. Emily looked at her own two feet, while descending. She wanted to give the monk more space, but he suddenly spoke. "What did you do while I was gone?" he asked, calmly.

"Oh?" she said. "Uhm, I...reported my stepfather's domestic abuse. They're under investigation, right now."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Donnie and Leon said that they're going to keep tabs on it, since they're the ones who contacted the Social Services Department."

"I see."

"What did you do while I was gone?"

Gareth handed his brown envelope to Emily. She opened it and saw that there was a birth registry, inside. "How did you get this?" she asked, astonished.

"The Author helped me." he simply said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She said that...this is what I actually needed."

"I see."