[center][h2]Melvin Cain[/h2][/center]

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The unwavering flow of silence felt unbearable, as if it was there to solely extract a wriggling perception of discontent. Within every moment spent, there were unfathomable whispers creeping in Melvin's reach. Their words - or to simply put, their gibbering mumbles - had Melvin squirming uncomfortably in his thoughts. He wasn't drifting towards insanity, or so he believed. Merely every time silence was there to be a part of the company, Melvin whisks to the verge of panicking, assuming that there was someone or something watching him in the shadows and is ready to plunge in for an assault. 

Wisps of air escaped from his mouth, leading to a prolonged sigh. Melvin opened his eyes, squinting in the first few moments right before rising from the kneeler. The silence, the cryptic ambiance that was circling the chapel - all of which seemed like a cloudy dream after Melvin ended his short prayers. Still, even if it wasn't, he felt trapped in windowless cell. What he perceived of the silence that lingered there gave him the thought of it transforming into a hollow monster. But Melvin wasn't completely afraid, he felt certain that his mind was nothing but a mischievous scum, playing never-ending tricks on him and insulting his weak consciousness. 

As he stood up, Melvin diverged from the column of chairs, lazily inching himself towards the wooden cross hung on a wall. Pillar candles were lit on a wide table in front of it, allowing a radiant glow of light to illuminate the framed image of Jesus Christ standing on the table's middlemost section. Antique ceramic vases were placed beneath the table, some of them holding withered plants while some have none. The sight of it all was almost mesmerizing to gaze at, albeit not being the most lustrous of altars. Once Melvin got closer, he recited a quick 'our father' prayer before closing his session. However, once he was done, a strange, crawling feeling latched onto his mind all of a sudden. It seemed much more of an invisible force, luring him closer and closer to the altar and then to the cross. Melvin's gaze grew narrow. He gasped for breath a few times but after a third attempt, a stifling sensation lodged within his lungs and then felt like he was slowly being choked by something he could not describe in detail. Struggling was the next thing he did but even so, it never went away - not until the door was shoved open, creaking throughout the halls littered by silence. The choking was gone, as well as the obscure presence of something assaulting him. Melvin did assume that it was all played by his mind but what he experienced felt palpable enough to escape his denial.

"Ah, a person." A voice remarked. Melvin ignored it as he was still mulling over to the unknown. "The sight of one is rather unusual but nonetheless, your presence is welcomed by the holy one."

No response followed. Melvin remained in front of the altar, frozen from what previously unraveled. His eyes were glued at the cross, continuing to fix his stare towards it.

"Is there something wrong?"

Rattled by the voice, Melvin shook his head all of a sudden, brushing away what have been skulking in his thoughts for the past few moments he spent on the prayer room. He craned his head to have a fair glance of the priest who resided at the place. The middle-aged man wasn't a familiar face whom Melvin would normally notice at The Towers. More likely, he was a rare sight, or perhaps he was since only a few people would bother visiting the prayer room. There were even times when no one would ever visit it within weeks. Melvin couldn't recall the last time it was filled with a decent number of people but despite that, he knew well enough that the priest was a respected individual among all residents. 

"N-No. Nothing's wrong. I'm perfectly fine." Or so he thought. The moment the silence broke off, Melvin felt the assurance of safety yet whenever his mind raced back to the encounter, he sensed that he wasn't anywhere near it. 

The priest chuckled gleefully at Melvin's startled reaction. He slowly walked past him then placed the bible he held on the table just beside the picture frame. Afterwards, he sat on one of the chairs that were arranged in a column. He stared at Melvin for a while, with weary eyes giving an obvious hint of sleep deprivation. 

"These times of desperation made people skeptical about the word hope." For a man who appeared to be in his 50s, his voice was rather more of an old man whose age is above 70. His soft and faint voice almost sounded like he was about to pass out. "It's a difficult job to force them out of their skepticism and tell that this word still exists. Now, can you imagine yourself handling a task on giving people what to believe? a task simply appointed to you by someone you couldn't even talk to?" 

Melvin shook his head while making it thoughtfully executed as he didn't want to look ignorant on what was asked.

"Hope is a fool's game but we're all equally foolish, so we still manage to play the game anyway. The hard thing is, I must keep the game active at all times, encourage newcomers to play as well. But in the end, all is good. I don't mind even if I lose a part of myself while keeping the game alive. After all, life is all about these games. Even if we think we're not playing one, we will....eventually." 

Melvin took a few steps back from the altar, slowly but surely finding a seat on the farther side, presumably snipping some distance from the priest. 

"Do consider on playing the game young man. I assume that you still are. Some people I knew stopped playing it and ended their lives weeks ago." The priest gazed at the altar, his expression turned into a haze of sorrow the moment his sights met the cross. "I've failed them because the moment they've stepped out of this room, I gave them a promise. But despite blaming myself over and over again, I still kept on giving them hope...still kept their game alive no matter what. I never gave up even to this day when they're all gone, because I know that the time will come when we will win this game and play another one." 

The message seemed to form a mental image, something which weighed on Melvin's beliefs whenever his optimism kicks in. Elusive appearances dwelt within the realms of his mind, drifting to a boundless space as if he was being strayed away in a dream. The images spoke to him, uttering the same phrases he once remembered on a dream he had. Then he recognized one important matter throughout the priest's speech and it was his own life - something he must value for the sake of the one's he had lost. 

"I find it difficult to believe that I still have hope." Melvin enunciated. "Every time I've lost people, the gap between me and giving up kept on narrowing. By the time I lost my mother and little sister, everything was over for me."

Melvin sank into a well of grief but he only made his stay abrupt. Once the thought of his mother and sister nestled within his mind, Melvin saw a brim of hope. He held onto it and then kept a tight grip. 

"I never knew where I was going. I didn't even know how many days I have left before I join them. Then I had this dream, an encounter if I must say. I saw them, the people I've lost. All of them were cheering for me in a peculiar way, all chanting the same phrase in unison."

He paused, lifting his head up and catching a glimpse of the cross. 

"You can make it." 

The priest chortled after a short pause of silence. 

"Oh you have no idea how much your story means to me. I can't be certain that there are still people like you but after hearing you out, I like to believe that there are still many out there, wanting to have their tales be told and I am sure that they are determined players just like yourself."

He stood from his seat then slowly dislodged his uncomfortable back aches with a few twists on his waist. Leisurely, he stepped forward. He knelt once he made his way to the kneeler that was in front of the altar, just a few inches from the wide wooden table found at the center. He then turned his head, glancing over his shoulder towards the sight of Melvin. 

"If you want, you can join me on a praying session." 

Melvin followed up with a grin, then elatedly shook his head. 

"Thanks for the offer father but I have to be on my way." 

The priest complied with a smile on his face. 

"Take good care. Always remind yourself that you can make it." he then drifted away from Melvin and bowed his head in front of the cross. 





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