* * *
The night was long.
As usual, she couldn’t sleep. She had been having insomnia for a long time, so long that she couldn’t remember since when. Was she twelve at that time? Or thirteen? She remembered sharing the same fate as many other boys and girls in THE HOUSE. She was born in a well-known, prestigious family. What was her family name again? No, she had not a single memory of it. She just knew she used to wear striking, adorable clothes and get called as “little mistress”. Until one day, everything was kept away from her. No, she was the one being captured, taken away and vanished in a blink of an eye. For years on, she only remembered darkness and despair. She was locked, chained and abused. There was only pain and grief in her life. When she thought there would never be a way out, she made a bet on her life. She stole the key and escaped. Hope seemed to be getting nearer when darkness struck again. She failed to cross the last hurdle. Caught again, she was thrown back to where she had started. Yet, her escape brought her two choices, either to end up like other kids or to join the gang. At that time, she was completely worn out. Tired of life. Tired of pain. And tired of decisions. She did not know whether to cry about it or to smile at the choices. She, in the end, chose to be part of the gang.
She grew to serve the “master”, starting from a powerless pathetic little servant to an obedient committed maid. In ten years of time, she gained trust from her master and became his full-time accomplice. The path was never smooth for her. To get to that point, she had suffered from endless mental torture and physical abuse. When she finally reached a stable and safe stage, her body was already covered with bruises and scars which could never be sutured.
When the master passed away, she inherited his authority and fortune. Keeping the same business, she became the well-known Great Mama in the crime community. Aggressive was she, in addition to her previous master’s unlawful business, she tried something far more perilous. Signing a contract with the mayor, she helped set up THE HOUSE, where child labor was exploited, kids were abused and blood was shed at the price of the riches’ amusement.
All this time, she stood aside and watched. All those blubbers and sobs reminded her strongly of whom she once had been. The pain and agony were what she used to suffer. Disgrace and despair were in the past her home. There was nowhere to escape, no one to turn to but gloom and misery. It didn’t take her long to realize she was as cruel as those noble rich people.
“People always want to direct their frustrations on something…or someone.” She finally understood.
“And the more powerful ones will keep doing this to the underprivileged. This is the rule in the society and in every corner of this selfish world.”
Remembering things in the past made her tired. Just when she was about to close her eyes, she felt a sudden pain on tummy.
“Hello, Great Mama.” A girlish voice greeted.
She opened her eyes abruptly, only to see a young lady sitting on top of her.
“Who’re you?” Great Mama exclaimed.
“It’s been a long time, granny.” The lady laughed.
Her laugh frightened her somehow, though she did not know why. The young girl was dressed in a black laced dress and the mascara she put on was obviously too much.
“Do I know you? How did you get in here? Who’re you?” Great Mama howled.
“We’re friends, Great Mama.” The girl still kept on giggling. With one leap, she landed back gracefully onto the ground. “Don’t you really remember me?”
And that got Great Mama. Somehow, she found this girl familiar. She did hear her voice before. She had seen her face. But…all the same…where and when?
“I’m Margorie. Guess an old witch like you is losing your memory.” The girl’s smile died away and turned into a frown.
“Margorie…?”
Now she remembered. Of course, she knew her. She was probably the only person who could ever escape from THE HOUSE. Her sister’s husband was THE HOUSE’s frequent customer. Earl Beaumont bought a few young girls from her before. Back then, he often visited THE HOUSE. He was no noble at all. The way he tortured his “preys” always frightened her. Still, Great Mama could not interfere with customers’ doing. All she knew was that Earl Beaumont was among the top most brutal people. He loathed his wife’s sister, so he threw her into THE HOUSE. Yet, Margorie was not like any other girls in THE HOUSE. She was unexpectedly smart and disturbing. All the customers lost their interest whenever they looked into her eyes. They came out crying to have seen the most annoying thing in their life. They said her eyes seemed to see through their souls and thoughts. No one dared touch that eccentric girl a bit. In the end, they could only lock her up in the dungeon. It didn’t take her long to escape though. She found the loophole in the security system and stole the key to run away, just like Great Mama once did. The only difference was that she succeeded.
Great Mama did not really hate her until then. What she had failed to do was achieved by a girl, who suffered the same kind of treatment and misfortune like she did when she was young. Yet, Margorie found a way to break out while she didn’t.
Therefore, Great Mama vowed to catch her. With Earl Beaumont’s help, they got the girl back. Disgusted, they would give away anything just to destroy this girl. They reported her as a witch and sent her to jail. Not long afterwards, she was executed, burnt.
“You know,” Margorie said. “We used to talk.”
“Yes…”Great Mama nodded. When Margorie was locked in the dungeon, she used to visit and chat with her. Though she did not know why, she just felt great similarities between them.
“We’re pretty much similar, in fact.” Margorie smiled. “You like to watch as others suffer. So do I.”
“What do you want?” There was frustration in her voice. Great Mama was tired. Tired.
“You’re tired.” Margorie pointed out. She had seen through her. She always did.
“Yes, I am.”
Tears began to roll down Great Mama’s face. For years, she had lost the sense of sorrow. She had long forgotten how to weep but now…Margorie brought her back to the past, to witness the thing she had once undergone.
“Great Mama…Great Mama…” Margorie whispered. “Poor girl, you never did know your name.”
“Name doesn’t matter.” The old lady insisted, sobbing. “It never does.”
“Of course it never does.” Margorie said. “Everyone shares the same fate in THE HOUSE. Life without hope, death in despair.”
BANG!
Out of sudden, the building jumped with a deafening rumble.
“What’s happening?!” Great Mama screeched. “What’ve you done!?”
“This is the end, Virginia Hoffman.”
“Huh?”
“Everyone comes with a name and leaves with a name too.”
BANG!
There was another crash. As she turned to the window, the entire house was on fire.
“Two geniuses figured a way out of THE HOUSE.” Margorie said. “You can’t blame them. You once bet on your life too. It’s just…you failed but they succeed.”
“You!” Enraged, Great Mama took her cane and wielded it in the air.
“Admit it.” Margorie said. “You can never forgive yourself for failing. If you did escape, you wouldn’t have ended up this way. Your life wouldn’t be a mess of remorse and insomnia.”
She was right.
Great Mama knew Margorie was right.
If only she had escaped…If only…everything would be the other way round.
“THE HOUSE is burning down.” Margorie said. “I’ve unchained all the kids and I guess they’re now finding way out. I can’t guarantee they all escape. Their life is now in their own hands. Let’s see if they fail themselves or not.”
With that, Margorie vanished.
“Great Mama!” Harry burst into the room. “Quick! Two boys set fire on THE HOUSE. There’s fire everywhere!”
“Go!”
“Huh?” Harry thought
he had heard the wrong thing but Great Mama pushed him out of her room.
“You go!”
“But…”
“Go!” Great Mama slammed the door behind her and walked back to her bed.
She sat there, just like she always did when she was locked in the cell.
Her life was her cell.
She had failed herself.
Fate had always been playing tricks on her.
She had a choice to fight back or to die with dignity.
Yet, she chose to be a criminal.
She had betrayed her own heart.
At least, she had something to die with.
Virginia Hoffman… Finally, she remembered her name.