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One could expect Khem to be miserable, to wail and cry and scream at the world, as all joy was taken from him. It would be entirely reasonable.
The consequences of a jealous wife’s savage actions were laid on an innocent child witness and generations later, on him. No one would blame Khem for being furious at the injustice of it all. In fact, his friends relentlessly tried to unearth the rage they expected him to feel. It would be natural, after all.
But anger wasn’t anywhere close to what Khem experienced. Instead, his heart filled with understanding towards Ramphueng. A mother, a friend, a wife. Rid of her only son, the love of her husband, the trust she held in her dearest friends. A single soul under such torment, both while alive and for countless years after death, would be bound to abandon the sense of right and wrong, rage clouding her judgement.
And Khem, as time went on, grew tired of contemplating the possibility of the woman finally seeing through the veil of grief and accepting his faultlessness in her suffering. Pretending to believe in all the ways he could be saved started feeling repetitive. Khem knew the cycle all too well. A new, promising prayer or incantation that was guaranteed to drive all spirits away. He used to let himself entertain the thoughts that maybe, just maybe, this time it would work. But it never did. And this time it wouldn’t either, even with Pharan’s best efforts. Khem simply grew tired from trying to trick his own mind into believing that there was hope for him.
And so he waited. He waited for the inevitable to come when he noticed the exhaustion starting to fade. In its place, a new feeling flowed in. With an almost suspiciously slow pace, a calm filled his mind and body. A kind of strange and maybe slightly worrying acceptance of his circumstances. Nearly twenty one years of constant fear, of desperately latching onto whatever brought him the smallest bit of comfort. They felt wasted now, when Khem finally admitted the reality. The future was going to continue on without him. He was never going to finish his studies, move to Ubon Ratchathani with P’Peem, start a family together. He was going to die.
Oh, Peem. His sweet, kind, wonderful Peem. The one who never left his side, no matter how much Khem begged him to. And beg he did. Countless nights spent crying, screaming about love and pain, about hope and acceptance, all of them ending with gentle, reassuring touches and whispered promises of endless protection. But these words were nothing if not empty to Khem. Sweet nothings, handed out like candy to a crying child, providing consolation for a minute or two, before the inescapable wretched cry rips its way out of its mouth once again.
When he decided to leave Ubon Ratchathani, he had no expectations of anyone calling, let alone chasing after him. He lied to his friends through his teeth, silently praying they’d believe that his fleeing was a ‘journey to break the curse alone’. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to sense that his heart was full of hopelessness. Theirs were the opposite, so they insisted on tagging along. Bursting with care and ideas for the redirection of his fate. Khem couldn’t bring himself to tell them that it would all be in vain.
After a while, he stopped protesting against Jet and Charn’s persistent efforts, if only to entertain them, keep their thoughts busy so the emptiness of Khem’s heart could never reach theirs. He let them believe the rituals were successful, that he hadn’t seen Ramphueng since the night he left Ubon Ratchathani. It was cruel, that false hope. He knew that. But he couldn’t bear being pitied any longer.
However, with every second Ramphueng prolonged his death, he grew anxious. She was surely toying with him. Using his guilt for her own selfish satisfaction. If he already accepted his fate, why couldn’t it come sooner? Why couldn’t she just fucking kill him when he so clearly wanted it?
…
This thought snapped Khem out of his daze, the internal rant coming to a halt and leaving him staring at the ceiling. Wanted it? When did his mind start substituting acceptance for desire? He couldn’t recall. Such a small difference in wording but so significant in meaning. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep? Or the uncomfortable dorm bed? But the thought seemed so certain.. the idea so comforting.. Was this his destined end this whole time? A sacrifice he was willing to make to take away his loved ones’ suffering?
He couldn’t, though. He knew that. This wasn’t an option. Khem had many reasons to live. But trying to recall them now… he found himself unable to. Not all hope was lost… surely not. But no arguments against that rose up inside his mind. None strong enough to overcome this exhaustion, at least.
After that realisation, he felt a strong need to do something, anything. He slowly rubbed the weariness from his eyes and rose to his feet, blindly feeling around the wall for the light switch. But instead of it, his fingers grazed something rough and cold. Khem blinked some more and looked around. He tried to remember when or how he traveled to a dark, dense forest, but even then, his mind was overcome with the idea of death being something he desired.
Khem fought hard to push this thought aside for now and decided to explore his surroundings. His legs were tired and weak, he must’ve walked a long way to get there. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but trees and vines snaking around the wet, mushy ground in a structure similar to spiderwebs. If he looked closely enough, he swore he could almost see them move towards him. Before he could acknowledge that, however, he heard a daunting voice echo around him. He knew that voice all too well.
“Aren’t you tired? Ready to give up now?” Ramphueng taunted, amplifying the unrelenting voice in his head. Yes. I am. Take me. But no matter how much he wanted to, Khem couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. The air in his lungs trapped his voice there, not allowing him to ask the woman for mercy in death. Helpless, his legs gave out under him and left him kneeling on the cold, damp dirt.
“The more you linger, the more you’ll suffer,” she continued, probably not yet aware of how much he agreed. I’ve suffered enough. Don’t hurt me any longer. You’ve won already. The thoughts almost reached his mouth by now. But something powerful was stopping them from crossing that line and getting out. It couldn’t be hope, though, for he had none of it left. It must have been something else… someone else-
“Khem, don’t give up now.” The warmth of his lover’s voice radiated through his whole body. He hadn’t even noticed he was shivering until the sound made his muscles relax and his fists unclench. He forced his legs to move through exhaustion and started running through the trees and bushes. P’Peem is here. This comforting thought made way for others to very slowly start crawling their way back to Khem after being ripped away from him. Someone cares for me. A sparkle of hope flickered on in Khem’s mind, but it was as if a thick fog made it impossible to reach.
And predictably, that small drop of light disappeared completely just as quickly as it came when thick black vines from a nearby tree clasped around Khem’s running form like an animal’s jaws. The voice of his protector was replaced by his oppressor’s returning taunt, this time accompanied by the woman herself standing before him. The smile on her face suggested she was entertained, or even amused, as if these matters were simply games.
“Staying on will bring only suffering. Not only you, but everyone around you will suffer.” A clear image of Grandma Si’s lifeless body was thrust upon Khem’s subconscious. Selfishness was never one of his domineering qualities. Kindness, perhaps too much of it at times, ruled his life. So seeing proof of his ignorance and heartless desire to live even at the expense of others was enough for Khemjira to question the integrity of his whole self. He could no longer distinguish between truth and his mind’s fabrications.
I am not selfish.
I would never hurt someone I care about.
I am not a bad person.
“Decide, Khemjira. Choose,” he heard faintly through the haze of memories. He had already made up his mind. A person like him didn’t deserve to go on anyway. Ramphueng had every right to take him after what had been done to her. He was guilty and everyone who claimed otherwise was either a liar or a fool.
“You can end everything here, in this dream and leave peacefully, without ever facing loss again.” Without causing the loss, he corrected in his head. The suffering which had followed him since birth was no coincidence. And the blame lay with no other but Khem. He yearned to disappear and drag this curse along with him, so he could do no more harm. When he suddenly noticed a simple noose take shape from the vines above and descend to him, Khem felt his fingers itching to reach out.
“What’s your choice?” The words that were previously tangled in his throat came more easily now. He was ready. There was no doubt about it. His fingers curled around the cold, wet vine and placed it, as if on instinct, around his neck.
“I’ve…” he started, confident and almost impatient for what’s to come. The desire for death seemed to have been there for years, despite appearing only recently.
“Given up.” As soon as the words left his lips, Ramphueng began laughing, almost hysterically. But Khem couldn’t bring himself to care one bit. The only thing on his mind was the steady pressure of the noose on his chin. It made him slightly giddy, the idea of the curse dying with him making the corners of his mouth curl.
He took a step forward, intending to transfer the entirety of his weight onto his neck, when… the strange feeling from before seemed to have returned, the warmth of it muddling his train of thought and previous intentions. Where did the certainty disappear to? How are there doubts now?
“Don’t give up,” came P’Peem’s voice. Just as suddenly as the sound came, memories began flooding back to Khem’s mind. He did have reasons to go on. The friends who stayed by his side throughout the most difficult of times still had hope for his survival. More importantly, he realised this faith had a place in his mind as well.
This newly found clarity allowed him to make crucial distinctions between the altered beliefs Ramphueng laid her fingers on and his own true values, ideas and knowledge, which he cherished now more than ever. It was unbelievable how real it all felt, how these foreign thoughts seemed to belong among the others, despite being forced upon him. Being mistrustful of his own judgement created a storm of emotions, making Khem dizzy, as if flickering between reality and a dreamlike falseness.
Afterwards, everything went by in a flash. Ramphueng disappeared, looking no more than slightly frustrated at Pharan’s protective spells. Peem took the noose off his lover’s neck and gently pulled him into his arms, right before Khem collapsed and slipped into unconsciousness, exhausted from the conflict that seemed to be raging in his head between what was real and what Ramphueng left behind.
Despite the confusion, there was one thing he felt certain about before drifting off.
I want to live.