Chapter 7

"Do you enjoy your stay on that post, Cupid?"

I look up. Hercules glides down, slowly pressing his toes on the cement in front of me. He wears his shining silver armor on his arms, body, and legs.

He grins wickedly. "Do you like the punishment that your father gave you, Cupid?" he asks. "It suits you."

I sneer. "What do you want? Why are you interfering on my doings, Hercules?"

"Easy, my dear cousin. I just did the right thing," he utters in a calm voice as if he's saying a matter of fact. He jumps, stepping his right foot first on the small space beside me, and tiptoes. He taps me on the head. He leans forward, closing his mouth to my left ear. "You deserve it."

I hiss. If only I can move my arms, I smack his stomach already.

He taps my head again. "You stole everything I have, Cupid. It must be enough to make you suffer like that, sealed in a motionless statue." He burst out a devious laugh.

"Yeah. Like I care. And by the way, I do not know what you're talking about. I did not steal anything from you."

"Are you sure, Cupid? You do not know? You don't know that you stole Psyche's heart from me. I am the one who first saw her before you met her. She's mine. But you showed up and took her away from me." He jumps back to the top of the wall. He walks back and forth, sending me death glares.

"Come on, Hercules. I did not steal her. You just did not make a move to make her yours. Seeing her first is not an enough reason to claim that you owned her; her heart; herself."

"Fool!" He grips the handle of his sword.

"And at the first place, I was sent on a mission to kill her but I refused to do the later. Instead, I love her. And she loves me back."

"No. The mission is just a cover-up to make her fall for you," he insists. He tightens his grip.

"Nonsense. If that was a cover-up, Psyche must be still alive, Hercules. Just accept the fact that she loved me and not you. She didn't even know you and your existence," I argue.

"That's not true. You're lying, Cupid," his voice raises. He unsheathes his sword. He lifts it, pointing the sky, making glints of sparks on its blade. He swings his sword.

I close my eyes. There's nothing I can do but to look on my situation; I can't defend myself; I am hopeless. If this is the end of me, I'll accept it. And if I survive, I'll go back to my usual doing which is to take the happiness of humans. I wait, expecting that the blade of his sword cut my flesh but nothing hits my skin. I open my eyes.

I see Zeus riding on top of a cloud. His right hand stretches in front, palm open. I look at Hercules. His sword sticks in the air, lighting wraps around it, stopping it in motion.

"F-Father," Hercules stutters, facing his father.

"What are you doing here, Hercules?" Zeus speaks out with a cold but terrifying voice.

"N-nothing, Father. I'm just here to visit Cupid. Nothing more, nothing less."

"But why did you unsheathe your sword?" Zeus asks, walking closer to Hercules.

"I just let Cupid see my sword, Father," he forces a smile lopsidedly.

Zeus raises one of his eyebrows, not believing on what Hercules just said. He looks at Hercules' eyes intently.

Hercules moves back, stepping his left foot backwards. "I'm leaving, Father."

Zeus takes a deep breath. He puts his arm down, letting Hercules' sword go. The lightning entangling around the sword's blade loosens, fading out.

"See you again, Cupid," Hercules glares on me before looking into his father. He nods. He hops his toes. He floats, walking in the air, slipping.

Zeus glances at me. Then, he extends his right arm; a lightning bolt strikes on him, he disappears.

I close my eyes, heaving. Another day of boredom. If I can just move my body, I already make this day exciting. I open my eye, seeing the horizon. My parents are probably happy putting me on this situation.

A fresh warm tear drops from my left eye. It merges on the calm water of the pond. Several drops of water disperse, splashing its way to different directions. A glitch of light flashes; it conquers the surrounding. How I wish that this light would last. With this, I can be alone; I cannot see the annoying strings and the heart above the heads of the humans; I will be at peace. Alone.

***

The water sprouts from below just like a spitting water fountain. It forms a figure, a human figure, slowly, from toe to head. I can clearly see its whole form; it has long strands of hair; its head bows down. It moves its head upward.

Our eyes meet. I lose my tongue. My throat dries. I can't utter a word. Is it really her? Those pair of emerald eyes, that pointed nose, that red kissable lips... She's the only one I knew who has those features - Psyche.

She touches my right cheek, sliding it to my chin. She smiles, the same smile that melts my world. "Cupid," she says. Just hearing her voice makes myself feel relax, it clears my mind.

"Psyche..."

"Cupid, my love, if you want to see me again, please, do not involve the innocent lives of humans. Please."

"B-but why?"

"They did not do anything to separate us. Things might get worse if you'll continue doing it. Just do what I say, Cupid. I promise we will see each other again. I promise." She closes the gap between us.

I can feel her lips press on mine. It is so soft, just like before. If this is just a dram, I wish it won't end. I hold her cheeks, closing my eyes, savoring every second.

***

I open my eyes as I feel a hand brushes my cheeks. Tear drops run through my cheeks, racing towards the edge of my chin.

"You're crying, Mister," she hushes, looking on my wet cheeks. She's standing at the little space in front of me. "Why are you crying?"

No man have notice the tears falling from my eyes excluding this little girl wiping every drops of tear. Humans' naked eye cannot see the real me and that includes my tears, they can only see a lifeless statue.

I bite my lower lip from inside. Should I tell this little child? She's too young for this, I think?

"I know it is hard to lose someone who owns a place in our heart, Mister. Losing them tears us into millions of pieces; breaking our every part – memory, emotion, our whole being," she pauses.

"How can you say those things, little girl? You're too young for those things."

She smiles. "Yes, Mister, I'm too young for all of these things. But this is my fate." She hops down to the cemented wall. She sits there, tapping the liquid surface of water by the tip of her toes, hands rest sideways, glancing on her reflection on the water. "We, humans, will experience these things, Mister, regardless of age and time. Even if we try to avoid it, we know that the time will come that we will feel and experience the negative side of life." She raises her head, staring in nothingness. "To tell you honestly, Mister, I did not regret on what I have done. If I did not do that, I may be still alive physically, not spiritually," she mumbles, gazing straight to my eyes.

Seeing her face now is way different from the first time I saw her. Her joyous innocent face before is now in the verge of crying. Just the look of her face, I know there is something wrong about her – about her past life. Suddenly, a heavy feeling drags me from inside, I feel sad for her.

"The act of suicide," she continues. "Yes, I know, I'm too young to kill myself and I know it is bad. But, I cannot take all the hate and blame that my mom gives me. She always makes me feel that I'm the result of a mistake; the result of an unwanted incident; the result of an immoral act; the result of rape. My grandma said that my mom tried to abort me when I was still on her womb. She takes drugs for abortion. She even tried to put me on a box and throw me like garbage when I was a less than a year old but she was stopped by grandma. Grandma was the only person who loved me but she left me... alone. When she died, my mom started to blame me of her death. She said I'm the worst person she'd ever known. After grandma's death, that was the time my mom began to treat me badly. I endure all the pain, the bruises and the wounds I get from her, because she is still my mom. I remember the nights that I wished that one day she will love me instead of hurting me. But, that day did not come, until one day, on the day of my birth; a thought of killing my own self crosses my mind. I know it is not good – it is a sin to the Almighty Father, God. But, I still did it. I'm useless if I stay alive, I am useless to my mom," she sobs.

I don't know what I am feeling. I want to hug her to make her feel she's not useless and alone. I want to reach her. Even if I, myself, know that I can't make a single move, I try to get away from the statue, ascending my bended knees to stand. Surprisingly, in no time, I feel so light – I can feel my body moving freely.

"I cut my pulse using the sharpest knife we have in our house."

I gaze at her. She's watching her reflection, again, on the water, tears falling. I leap and sit on her right side. I rub her arms. "Just let it all out, little girl."

"I ended my life by suicide. I expected to see myself at the afterlife. I didn't know why I'm still here. No one loves me here. No cares for me. Even in school, I am bullied because they thought that my mom is a slut. They're saying that I am also a slut and sluts do not have place in this world."

I stop, speechless. I'm hit by the arrows of regret. I take lives for vengeance without knowing on what they are experiencing... if they have problems with their family. I am blinded by my hatred and loneliness of losing Psyche.

She laughs, glancing at me. "Sorry for being such a crybaby," she smiles, "and sorry for telling the story of my useless life, Mister."

How can she laugh after the things she encountered on her life? It is very hard to ignore those things.

"No. No. You should not feel sorry. I must say thanks to you. You just made me realize how love and life are important to everyone, mortal or immortal. We deserve to love and to be loved. We are worthy to live our life," I smile, tapping her head. I mess her hair.

"Oh don't mess my hair, Mister," she whines, holding my hand, pouting.

"Cupid, stop messing my hair."

Psyche.

I stop messing the little girl's hair. I used to mess Psyche's hair before. It is gay and corny for others to see. But, for me, it is one of the most beautiful and happiest things to do with someone you love. I smile bitterly. Maybe it is time for me to accept the fact that she's already dead. She's already living at the afterlife also known as the spirit world or the world of spirits. In the first place, it is forbidden for us, immortals, to fall in love with mortals. I disobey the golden rule.

"Ahmm... I have to go, Mister. I need to see my mom if she's still okay," she stands, swaying her dress.

"Okay, take care," I reply, smiling. I fix my eyes on the surrounding.

I feel sorry for the couples that I shamelessly make their life miserable. I promise that will the last. I promise.