See You in the Underworld

Clutching that crumpled note, the rain hammered against the glass outside, a crackling sound filling the air. The note was in Simon Gabriel's handwriting, crookedly scrawling "Owe Wendy 300, will return it next week," with a small star drawn at the end. That happened last winter. Simon Gabriel had a high fever, his face flushed, but he insisted on going to class. I dragged him to the school hospital. The doctor said he needed an IV, but clutching his pocket, he shook his head, saying, "I have no money." Back then, I was working part-time at a milk tea shop, standing for eight hours a day. I had saved 300, originally planning to buy myself winter cotton shoes. But seeing his hand trembling with fever, I pressed the money into his palm anyway. "Get medical attention first; I'm not in a hurry for the money." I remember saying that. He stared at me, his eyes as bright as fallen stars, and said, "Wendy, I'll definitely pay you back, and I'll buy you an extra cup of milk tea." Later, we got together. He would wait for me outside the milk tea shop after my part-time job, holding a warm baked sweet potato. He would secretly slip me a piece of fruit candy when I was up late studying for finals, saying, "Something sweet to perk you up." He would put my hand in his pocket when I complained about the cold in winter, saying, "My hands are warm; I'll warm you up." Back then, I thought we would continue like this forever, from campus to a wedding dress. Then, this spring, he suddenly broke up with me. The wind was fierce that day. He stood beneath a cherry blossom tree, avoiding my gaze, and said, "Wendy, we're not right for each other." I pressed him for a reason, but he only said, "My brother is sick. I have to take care of him; I don't have the energy for a relationship right now." I wanted to ask more, but he turned and left, his back to me, resolute as if he'd never known me at all. Later, I sent him a message, only to see a red exclamation point appear. He'd blocked me, I realized. I went to look for him several times. His house was always locked. A neighbor said, "That Gabriel family boy is busy taking care of his brother. He doesn't have time to see you." I went to the hospital where his brother had stayed, only to find Simon Gabriel's parents guarding the ward. Seeing me, they lashed out, "You jinx, don't you dare come near our Simon." I couldn't understand it; how could someone who was just planning our future with me a few days prior suddenly change so drastically? It wasn't until last Saturday that I saw a car accident report on the news. "A car accident occurred on a local road, resulting in the immediate death of the entire Gabriel family. They were reportedly on their way to the cemetery of their son, Yale Gabriel." The license plate number shown in the news belonged to Simon Gabriel's family. The cup in my hand fell to the ground with a "clang," water spilled everywhere, like my unstoppable tears. I can't understand it. How could he just die? He still owes me 300. How dare he die? I sought out the senior master in the suburbs. The senior master saw my eyes, red and swollen from crying, sighed, and gave me a yellow token, saying, "Hold it, and recite Simon Gabriel's name three times, and you can enter the underworld." I clenched the yellow token, my fingertips white from the force, and said, "I'm going to find him, either to make him pay back the money, or to make him come back with me." After reciting Simon Gabriel's name the third time, the sky suddenly darkened. The icy wind, sharp with frost, burrowed into my bones, and the scene before me slowly shifted—dark cyan city walls loomed, etched with the characters for "underworld," and two guards stood at the gate, their iron chains clanking. "You've got some nerve, trespassing into the underworld." The guard said. I handed over the yellow token, saying, "I'm looking for Simon Gabriel. He owes me money, and I want him to pay it back." Once inside, I spotted Simon Gabriel immediately. He stood in the center, wearing the blue hoodie he always wore in life, his parents at his side. The underworld king sat on the high platform, his voice booming, "Simon Gabriel, in your past and present lives you've done good and accumulated virtue; in your next life, you'll be reborn into a wealthy family, your parents by your side, enjoying all the glory and riches." Simon Gabriel's parents beamed, their smiles almost splitting their faces. Simon Gabriel smiled too, but it was a smile that felt utterly foreign to me. He used to get a little dimple when he smiled, but this man didn't have one. "Simon Gabriel!" I yelled, rushing over and grabbing his wrist. His hand was cold, devoid of warmth, nothing like the warmth I remembered when he'd hold my hands in winter. He paused, stunned, then frowned, regarding me like a stranger. "Who are you?"