BLOODY LOVE'S
Episode 87's

Fireworks exploded again decorating the night, making the fleeting dark city bright. Both Maria and Nolan looked up in awe, counting how many small eruptions came after the huge fireworks explosion.

Nolan is in South Bjork, not joining the hustle and bustle of the elite in the North. Actually, although always angry, he was a little waiting for an invitation from Jose. Moreover, his neighbor had been uproar since morning, asking if he would be picked up "Prince of the North".

Jose did not come. The man did not invite her. Nolan did not expect it, but somehow he felt upset. Now he was on the porch with his sisters, looking at the young men who desperately wanted to cross to the North despite having to chase with patrol police.

"Not going north?" asked Loma innocently while approaching Nolan. His face lifted up, looking at the sky. Both of his eyeballs glowed reflecting the light of the fireworks.

Nolan shook his head while laughing, covering up his cockiness. "People call what they do a party. But there, they were just trying to cover up the anxiety while wasting money. The bourgeoisie cannot appreciate anything, not even their own lives."

His mother sneered from behind in a reprimanding tone, making Nolan turn her head slightly while whispering, "What? They won't understand what I just said."

The middle-aged woman approached, propped her hands over Nolan's head, then gently stroked her blonde hair. "It's not about them, Nolan. But you. Why are you always angry?"

"Why can't you get angry?" reply Nolan undaunted, although a little embarrassed because his mother to reprimand.

"Not everything would be good if expressed with anger" said his mother, alternately rubbing her sisters' hair, although some of them dodged with a patch. Adults may like to rub the hair of young children, but children usually hate being treated that way. "If you're anxious, afraid, happy, you can honestly point out all these things. No need to be held in the form of anger."

"I'm really angry" Nolan said quickly. "Not being happy, embarrassed, or scared. I'm angry because I'm angry." He pulled his sister's elbow who wanted to jump all over the porch of the house. They were now gathering on a terrace made of wood, with a short fence running across the porch. His younger siblings loved to sit on it, but Nolan had to keep no one from running into the forest because the fog sometimes appeared suddenly.

His mother only noticed Nolan's behavior while biting his lower lip, regretting not giving the child better attention and teachings. Nolan grew up fatherless, in a world where adults have always complained about the pain of their lives.

When Nolan was a child, she used to listen to the adults around her talking about how troublesome it was to live in South Bjork, how unfair the government was, that they were treated arbitrarily by the nobles, that the people in the North are doing a massive waste, as well as other grievances.

Nolan lived by the cries of protest and also the calls for justice that was not followed up by either the begging or the listening, making the hearts of the girls so hardened. All he knows is how to get angry, insinuate, and rebuke. He grew up in hatred for the people of the North, without even really understanding the root of the problem.

His kindness cannot be expressed clearly. All he could do was get angry and offended at every circumstance, making a defensive fort so that he could not be harmed.

All his mother wanted was for Nolan to see the fireworks with a happy smile. Seeing the world with a different outlook, calming himself down and enjoying what will and has happened. That'sallthatis.

"Aren't you playing with that guy from the north?" asked his mother, trying to melt the atmosphere. But Nolan even threw his face away while snorting.

In fact, he seemed happy every time he went out with the child, thought his mother. He didn't expect much from Jose's friendship with Nolan.

But he just wanted to see Nolan happy. Even if for a moment.

Nolan himself never thought about happiness or romance. Now, his mind was preoccupied with the story of the servant from North Bjork. He believed mystical things could happen. He believed that it was possible that the woman named Sana was not lying or hallucinating.

Maybe he was with Gladys.

Or rather, the ghost of Gladys.

He does not yet know the identity of the body found this morning, but Nolan guesses that the woman must be Gladys. Who else could die with such a good time? What bothered him was the description of the many terrifying people waiting in the forest. What kind of person scares ghosts?

Gladys may be a ghost who appeared to ask for his body to be found. But at the thought of that, Nolan shook his head quickly. It made more sense that Gladys actually wanted to take Sana to another world.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" ask Nolan quickly.

His mother turned her head, astonished at the sudden turn of the topic. The woman grabbed the shawl, thinking carefully. "Mom, I don't think we can trust ghosts."

"I mean, do you believe that ghosts exist?" Nolan immediately corrected his question. He lifted up his body, sitting on the top of a row while facing the house, facing his mother who was leaning against the wooden wall. Her sisters are still noisily seeing fireworks, but they are now also putting on ears. The talk of ghosts is always interesting.

"There may be." His mother frowned, thinking. "Mom has never met one. But clearly, we cannot deny that in this world there is another dimension. We're not alone."

"What is dimension?" asked Loma with her child voice.

"Spaces and time," Nolan answered quickly, then continued, "mom ever hear a story about a person being pulled away as the ghost of another person?"

"You mean, Aunt Henna?"

Nolan nodded quickly, just thinking about his aunt.

Aunt Henna once told me that in the afternoon as she was on her way home from the market, the road was suddenly covered in fog. Not thick. He can still see the road. The fog does have a fixed clock, but sometimes it comes suddenly. Everyone in South Bjork knows that, so Aunt Henna is no wonder. He continued to walk calmly because he had memorized the route home.