Prologue
"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings."
― Anais Nin
The deep voice of the stranger was the first and only thing that greeted her long before her eyelids, which had remained drooping for up to ten hours up until now, pushed open.
"Is it possible that you finally woke up, Miss. Cuthbert?" His dark blue eyes, which were raging like a windy day's sky, met hers and her heart skipped a beat.She felt out of place and confused. She couldn't place him, and what made her more confused, and puzzled, was the puffiness and redness of the stranger's eyes. However, she did not have the power in her to voice out loud any question, nor even wonder within herself if he was crying before she woke up; because the word pain was the simplest word one might describe what she was feeling as of now, for every inch of her body was screaming in agony as though it was stabbed with thousands of sharp knives.
Nevertheless, despite that agonizing agony that was exuding from her frail body, she was, as a matter of fact, still able to feel the grip of the two large hands with which the stranger was holding both of hers.Why was he touching me, she wondered.It took her several minutes before she realized that the stranger was trying to console her. Gazing up at the little smile he had formed on his thin mouth, she couldn't for the life of her look away, despite the strong urge to do so. The pain that shot up to her nape was threatening to break her neck loose from her skull lest she stared up any longer. But staring up she did. She couldn't help it, for no one had ever before smiled at her this innocently, and openly.No one but one person-- a person who seemed far away at that moment. The one person she hurt the most.Caught in the act of staring, his little soft smile widened before he said, "If only you woke up a few minutes prior than when you did, Miss. Cuthbert, your uncle has just left."Her eyes widened at that, but he didn't seem to notice because he continued," He is a very good man. He was insisting on giving me money because I donated all this blood to you, but thankfully I managed to escape his odd, and very unnecessary, generosity." He looked at her again before saying, " I am sorry, you must have wanted to wake up next to someone you know instead of me." He rubbed the area behind his ear with embarrassment, and carried on, " Someone dear to me was brought here and is in the emergency room now. I was in the hallway, waiting, and I happened to hear the nurses talking about their need for someone with the same blood type as mine. So, I volunteered and stayed with you since then, '' He explained.Finally, she managed to ask him with difficulty and a hoarse voice barely heard, "Didn't anyone visit me but my uncle?"The stranger pondered for a moment if he could tell her everything that had happened while she was in a coma, then he shook his head and chose to give her as little as she could handle by answering her only with, "Yes, there was someone talking to your uncle. I think it was the same person who brought you here, but he left the hospital in a hurry."Tears gathered inside her eyes as she felt her heart contract, while the stranger looked at her baffled by her strange reaction. "Of course, what did I expect to happen after what I did to him? I just wished he would give me one last chance to say goodbye." She exclaimed, out of nowhere, at him.He asked seriously and out of curiosity, "The man or your uncle? Can't you reach out to him again?"Valentina could not, at that moment, argue upon the sense of overcoming such feelings— the feelings of being lost, torn, and exhausted, both mentally and physically.She had always only endeavored to counteract such feelings by overworking herself, but now that she was finally drained physically, she couldn't ignore them and the presence of this stranger was urging her to confront them with his nagging questions. She tried to ignore the smell of the hospital floors as she closed her eyes as a measure which would fix the time and she would return to that one dear person, whom she so much wished to see, in a more eligible, more comfortable manner, perhaps without any greater delay.But the painful truth was that he would never want to see her again, after what she has done to him. She tried to convince herself that her affection for him was sincere and that it must triumph in the end, maybe with little difficulty, over the evils she had started-- the evils she had put him through.
But deep down, she knew damn well that he would never forgive her. He will never forgive her for the evils she put him through, the ones she made him suffer through; of that she was sure.Looking back at the stranger who was now hovering over her head, she tried to keep the tears at bay.How she should begin—how she should express herself to this nice stranger, was now all her concern. She equally feared to say too much or too little, and so remained deliberating over her thoughts.Her thoughts were all over the place as she came to decide that she should not trust this stranger. He will report her to the police.She started to feel the heavy weight of her eyelids returning, so she could barely keep her eyes open as she mumbled, "No, I am here in the hospital because I..."Although she could not utter the last word before returning to the dream world, the stranger was able to read her lips enough to widen his eyes in shock.Despite her decision not to tell him, her tongue did slip after all, if intendedly.He didn't move nor flinch. His shock was so great that it disabled his sanity by staying and getting involved with a woman like herself, perhaps because he knew that if he was gone, no one would visit her, or perhaps that lonely tear slowly flowing down her cheek was what nailed him down on his seat.She was a monster. Crazed.CHAPTER ONE"I loved you for a thousand years and missed you in all of them."― Christina Strigas, Love & Vodka: a book of poetry for glass heartsTWO YEARS LATER ~The employees chattered loudly while they enthusiastically awaited the arrival of their new boss. They were very thrilled to meet this new female boss as the rumor has it that the new CEO of this small branch of TO International is the daughter of the former chief executive officer of the company, which meant that the company will finally take care of this small branch and increase its production rate, which simply meant: more money and better salaries. The employees heard the sound of the elevator moving towards them, approaching like a hawk, and their heartbeat began to race as they hit the culmination point of their enthusiasm, and fear for their future. For, this either meant a better future or a worse one. There was nothing in between, and they knew it. Suddenly, the elevator stopped, opened, and there was dead silen
CHAPTER TWO 'The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you." ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief It had been a long time since he last saw her, now that he finally glimpsed a sight of her after three years full of anguish and hatred, he couldn't seem to realize whether this feeling that was flooding against his spine and heart was in fact out of longing for her, or out of pure rage. "Hello, Miss. Cuthbert, it is an honor to meet you, I am your new assistant, Dean Edgar." He spoke as if nothing had happened just a few seconds ago, or more clearly as if he didn't just ignore his duty towards the new boss on the first day of her arrival, and that he didn't even welcome her as he was supposed to. She flashed a little smile at him, returning his fake smile, but without raising her hand towards him to shake hands as she has done with the rest of the staff. "It is all my honor, Mr. Edgar, I hope we will work in harmony together for the sake of this branch." Her words de
CHAPTER THREE “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."― Martin Luther King Jr., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches The first day of work has come after the weekend, and Dean still couldn't believe that she had the nerve enough to show up in front of him again. After all, she has done. To him. He had expected, or maybe hoped, that she would not deal with him much because of the past between them, but, much to his dismay, she called on him whenever the opportunity allowed her. She did not have a driving license, so she couldn't drive and hence it became one of his duties as her assistant to relocate her from her apartment to the company and vice versa, which meant that he was literally forced to see her face from the beginning of his day at work to Its end. As for Valentina, she was trying to make sure that she did not make any mistakes in order to save the image of her family's company. Sh
Chapter 04"She's mad, but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire." ― Charles BukowskiThe lark had made an appearance just when I started to lose faith in myself; as if he were a sign from The Mother to make me get going, and not to let morbid thoughts imprison me in a hopeless state of mind. I had to make it in time, there was no way that I was to leave them waiting, and thus angering the spirits of the woods. I've got this.For some reason or other, the trees seemed to let me go smoothly this time, and the once freezing, chilly air seemed to warm up after he vanished out of nowhere. I wondered if he were one of the immortal creatures of the bushes that lived all their lives lurking in the deep spooky woods; I wondered if they were harmless, or if one of them was to appear and block my way again.The lark, flying high in the, now, breezy night; escorted me all the way while I held the
Chapter 05"Fire and IceSome say the world will end in fire,Some say in ice." ―Robert FrostFloating up in the atmosphere withmy knees curled uptomy chest in a ball of fire,I realized I was shaking, wincing in pain, breathing heavily; and that my body control was not working under my will. I strived to stop the seething heat that was coming out of me, but nothing I did seemed to work. I couldn't fathom where possibly have I gone wrong. Was it some word I said wrong? I spent years reading the book of enchanted rhymes, and love spells that I found in the attic one time when I and Ophé were but little kids playing hide and seek. Could it be a forged copy? Had I angered the spirits, the trees, the lethal creatures?Doomed in
CHAPTER 06"And
CHAPTER 07"December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory..."―John Geddes A Familiar Rain
CHAPTER 08"You'll forget it when you're dead, and so will I. When I am dead, I'm going to forget everyting- and I advice you to do the same."―Kurt Vonnegut