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“It’s all your fault.”
The words echoed in Bonnie’s head as they watched Siffrin choke and gasp, clawing at his throat. Voices and shouts of concern were muffled in Bonnie’s ears because of the oceans of blood roaring within them like the horrible sounds Sadness made sometimes. Grief taking tangible form, going hand in hand with the subsequent denial that echoed in Bonnie’s head.
They denied what they saw before them, it had to be a prank. It had to be a prank, Siffrin wasn’t dying in front of them, Siffrin would stop and say, “Gotcha, Bonbon!” and Bonnie would call them the stupidest person in Vaugarde but he would be okay and it would go back to how it all used to be when Siffrin would laugh with Bonnie and call them that nickname and Siffrin wouldn’t be – dying – in front of them.
Denial couldn’t be drowned as Siffrin gasped for air and couldn’t get enough in their lungs.
“Frin’s dying,” Bonnie said and no sound resembling words came out, like when they were overcome with emotion because Siffrin found them and assured them that the adults would take care of them until their sister could be revived. It was a broken sound. Every sound was still muffled, every shout and plea.
Mirabelle cast as many healing crafts as quickly as she could, tears streaming down her face as she shouted for Siffrin to hold on. Isabeau kept Siffrin upright to try and mitigate the reaction he was having, Isabeau’s large hands keeping Siffrin stable. Siffrin’s strong aversion to touch was forgotten as they all tried to keep him alive because he was – Bonnie couldn’t bear to think of the word a second time.
This horrible House’s walls were closing in on them, crushing them. This was a place of death. This was the place where they could never be forgiven for what they had done. Bonnie felt a hand at their shoulder and looked up. The despair was naked on Odile’s face and she tried to say something but Bonnie couldn’t hear the words. Their heart hammered so loudly they thought they would die too.
A horrible gasp made them look at Siffrin. They didn’t want to: they didn’t want to see Siffrin like this. Siffrin’s eye stared right at Bonnie, stabbing them through the chest worse than usual. Every time Bonnie looked at Siffrin they saw the eye he sacrificed for their sake. The guilt was too much to bear.
And now Siffrin was dying because of those stupid pineapple slices.
“Boniface,” Odile said, finally cutting through to Bonnie. She took their hand and hurried out of the sanctuary, out into the hallway where there were no Sadness. Bonnie mutely followed, feeling like their entire organs were scooped out of their chest. They had to leave, they couldn’t stand it, they wouldn’t make snacks for anyone ever again.
They killed Siffrin. They killed Siffrin. They killed Siffrin. They killed Siffrin. They killed Siffrin.
Bonnie’s legs gave out and they wailed. They wanted to die too.
“Boniface,” Odile said shakily as much as she tried to keep steady, keep stable. Odile’s hugs were too pointy but Bonnie needed to be held and just as quickly reviled it because they didn’t deserve comfort, not after they killed Siffrin. “You didn’t know. You had no idea.”
“But I should’ve known! We’re friends and Siffrin doesn’t remember anything,” Bonnie sobbed. “He doesn’t remember and I should’ve asked and I would’ve remembered for them!”
Odile didn’t say anything. She swallowed, grief apparent in her eyes not just for Siffrin but for the weight that Bonnie would carry for the rest of their young life. No words or comfort could ease the ache in their lungs and their heart.
Mirabelle screamed, heart-wrenching and striking Bonnie to the core instinctually. They already knew. Siffrin was dead. Siffrin was dead and it was all their fault.
Odile’s voice was muffled again. Bonnie couldn’t move. Their stomach felt like it was being torn open and the world – reset.
-
Bonnie had a sudden burst of clarity and smacked Siffrin’s hand away from the snacks. Everyone gave little gasps of shock but Bonnie was undeterred and made their voice loudly known as they wagged their finger at Siffrin.
“Not the pineapple slices!” they scolded. “Don’t eat those, stupid.”
“I wasn’t going to eat them,” Siffrin said with that annoying grin. It was the one that acknowledged Bonnie was a kid that had to be teasingly indulged sometimes even though Bonnie said over and over that they weren’t a baby, they were a preteen. Somehow, though, that grin didn’t annoy them as usual because the grin looked – sad. Like Siffrin forgave them for something unknowable.
“Good!” Bonnie normally would’ve continued making fun of Siffrin but something stilled their breath and made their tongue stick to the roof of their mouth. There was a faint, almost ghostly taste of burnt sugar on their tongue though Bonnie had no idea what they ate earlier to give that aftertaste.
“Wait, Bonnie, did I ever tell you about my pineapple allergy this lo – um, at any time?” Siffrin asked.
“You have an allergy to pineapple?!” Mirabelle gasped. She immediately grabbed the plate of sugared pineapple slices and ate the offending fruit with franticness that was almost impressive.
“Slow down, Mira,” Isabeau said gently. “Siffrin, that’s the most tragic back story I’ve ever heard. Forever barred from eating a tart and savory fruit…”
Siffrin playfully stuck their tongue out at him before adding, “Playwrights accumulate fame off of tragedies like this.”
Odile quietly wrote down something unknown as she often did. Bonnie wondered if she wrote down Siffrin’s allergy in case they forgot. A knot in Bonnie’s heart unraveled for reasons they didn’t know. They didn’t even know there was a knot in their heart.
“Here, eat this,” Bonnie said, carelessly shoving a plate of madeleines into Siffrin’s hands.
“Anything for Bonnie,” they replied with a laugh.
Bonnie allowed a tiny smile at him.