Loud: Turmoil

Chapter 8

       Lola was born on July 7, 2010, at 7 am. She was born naturally in the cold empty hospital that buzzed with fluorescent lighting and weighed down with a heavy atmosphere. Family stood around, which only consisted of five-year-old Lincoln and nine-year-old Luan, as well as Rita and Lynn Sr., and grandmother Myrtle who looked even closer to tears than the new baby's mother. After Lola was born, Myrtle insisted on taking her to the church that she regularly attended. Rita was exhausted, and she had been for weeks after the baby was born.

       She stayed home, and Myrtle and Lynn Sr. went to the church at Myrtle's request. Myrtle asked the the priest, with his black cassock draped over him, if he could perform a prayer, as well as offer protection for the baby. So he said a prayer, mumbling it quietly but also with an extremely patient and solemn look on his face. When he said amen, he followed it with a congratulatory handshake and a smile. Myrtle restated, "Can you offer her the protection now? It only works while the child is pure."

       The priest's expression was now one of a man who attempted to swallow his anxiety. "Myrtle, I cannot." But she begged with her hands pressed together: "Please." Reluctantly and moving with an air of caution, he turned around and went into a room in the far corner. He returned with a small golden saucer that plated a small mound of black ash. He dipped his finger into it and drew on the baby's small forehead. And on her, he drew a symbol of a Catholic shield, which she wore with a yawn and tired eyes. That day it rained for seven hours straight, which flooded nearby rivers and lakes.

       The ash was washed away as they walked out of the church, and the rain continued to fall, and hydrate the skin of the welcomed newborn. When the rain ended, Rita began to feel sick. She lay down for days, unmoving. Her fever was an alarming 107° Fahrenheit. Doctors fed her water through tubes and kept her hydrated. She recovered a week later. Lynn Sr. did not tell Rita about the symbol of protection that was marked on her baby, because he found it insignificant, and slightly superstitious.

       Perhaps there was a connection between the rain and illness that followed the child for some time. Lola over the years would gather her humor and empathy from her siblings, and secretly valued her father more than her mother. She'd take her to the pageants, after all. She donned her first tiara in preschool when her mother bought her a princess costume for Halloween. For some reason, her interest in cosmetics and fashion bloomed (and her slight vanity followed.) She thought of herself as beautiful, and worthy of a crown. But above all, her family she cherished most.

       Now, to the present. Or, what would've been the present had there not been such a disaster. The end of the world had occurred on Earth and every planet and star had to roll through the black sea with its invisible eyes. Everyone alive was dead. Every planet to rotate left the universe. Now it was all just white. An absence of all things to disrupt the homogenous scene. No colors or shadows or lighting changes or walls or floor or ceiling. Just a never-ending space of white like an unpainted canvas. It was quiet. But your ears could probably pull the illusion of the sound of thumping, which was nothing but your own heartbeat pounding through the silence. There was a sound, though. A low hum. It was probably the permanent unrecognizable echo of the screaming dying souls and the demolition of every rock in space - all those years ago.

       Among the endless white scenery, there loomed a figure. The figure limped forward in an undetermined path and staggered from side to side. There was a dreadful silence, but now there was panting and gasps. Someone trudged forth, and they revealed themself in the thick air around them. It was Lola, with her dress on. However, for whatever reason, it was devoid of color, and therefore gray instead of pink. She is missing her beloved tiara and instead wears a crown of twigs and leaves that seem to be the remains of an explosion caught in her hair.

       "Where... is everything?" The world had ended, so why was she alive? Why is there an existence at all? Then, she says aloud, "Hello?" This calls out in a powerful echo that shoots in all directions and garners no response. Not immediately, at least. She shrugs her shoulders and then sits down on the invisible floor, that only seems like another space of permanent white. She yawns, exhausted.

       "Hm. You're not supposed to be here, are you?" She looks up to see a skull. Not just any skull - a horse skull - which stations itself as the head of a skeletal body beneath a black cloak. "I'm sorry," the voice said, spilling its words with its dry and breathy sound, thick as a puddle of oil, and said with the air of infinite patience and bland curiosity. It's like his words bubbled and stuck to the wind. "I shall introduce myself to you, but my moniker is not pronounceable in any human language. Think of it as many sighs and squeals at once. That's as close as you may get to hearing my name. I cannot perform it for you either, as none of us shall speak our own name. It's arrogant and insolent."

       Lola was not scared. She just was tired and confused. "Where am I?" The skull clacked together like wooden planks. "Welcome to the new world, child. There's nothing here or anything planned to be. There is no concept of time anymore. Barely any concept of identity." She stood on her bruised feet and spun around looking again at her missing environment. "Why am I here?" The cloak's sleeve lifted and out reached a skeletal hand. It wiped back Lola's blonde bangs and revealed a symbol made of ash.

       "You have... the sign of a priest. Protection had been granted. You were not aware of this?" She shook her head. "Poor child. You must know that you are with us until you meet your natural demise. Make yourself at home." Lola spouted out, "You're saying I have to be in this white place until I die? I don't want this!" An image of her family came to mind and made her stop for a second. "I want my family." The cloak shivered. "Well, I'm bored here. It's all become vapid. The same white emptiness when I look around, for now and forever. I've also grown bored of my thoughts and desires. How about you help me build this place, child? What do you want to see?"

       "I want to see my family."

       "Describe them to me."