Daria
When I wake up from surgery, I can tell something is wrong. There is a knot inside my chest that won't go away. No matter how hard I try to tackle my worries away, it's gnawing me alive.
Now isn't the first time I open my eyes—I've done it twice already but fallen straight asleep after a few breaths. My limbs are tired and heavy, feeling like they belong to someone above the age of eighty and not a woman still in her early twenties.
I glance to my left and right, tilting my head when I'm faced with the hesitant smile of Brooklyn. She doesn't look happy to see me, more like she is sheltering a secret, and now it's evident that something is wrong.
My heart pounds against my ribcage, and I suck in a deep breath, asking myself twice if I'm ready to hear the answer to my question. I don't know why, but I think Brooklyn's response will break me from within.
"What has happened?" I ask her, entirely serious. I'm not wearing a smile or even cele
DariaI'm holding Killian's hand. It's been days, and he still hasn't opened up his eyes, but the flowers in his vase are exchanged. I thought yellow daisies would suit him and plucked some from outside."The yellow color makes me happy," I'm speaking, hoping Killian can hear my voice even with his severe head trauma. His room is filled with flowers from various fans, but mine are the ones on the table. "And even though you've received more expensive flowers from your fans and Wilder, I think you would prefer the ones directly taken from the street."I glance down at his long, dark eyelashes, fanned out over his cheeks as he breathes. Without meaning to, I shed a tear but immediately tell myself to brighten up. I squeeze his hand and peer out through the window behind his hospital bed.For days, I've cuddled up to his lifeless body when no one has been watching. My soul misses him, so I talk with him as if he can hear me, not caring if I'm mad. I brush hi
DariaThe first time Killian open his eyes is on a Tuesday. His eyes flit through the room, and I drop a flower vase, staring at him until those familiar eyes once more close.At first, I thought I had imagined it, but the next time Killian opens his eyes, there are doctors there. He can barely talk and open his mouth without a sound coming out.But there is intelligence in Killian's eyes, a type of remembrance, and the doctors tell me he will need to learn how to walk, talk and eat again after so many weeks in a coma.Those words fill me with even more hope because I had it even when he wasn't awake. Now I'm always giddy, and when I'm left alone with Killian, I'm almost bursting from the seams.I take a seat next to his bed, and a small smile curls his lips. His blue eyes scan my face, and I giggle—I'm so bubbly."Good morning," I say, barely able to contain myself. I want to jump the man, plant kisses all over his face. "How are you?
Daria I gap at Killian with blinking eyes, whispering. "You were my first crush! The sexy voice on the other side of the confession booth!" Killian snorts and then throws a fit of laughter. He seems massively amused by my statement. "The sexy voice on the other side of the confession booth? And wait, I was your first crush? Really? You weren't into someone famous like the rest of us?" Snorting, I shake my head. "No, you were my first crush! I'm not lying!" "I don't believe you!" Killian's lips are tightly knit in a smile. "You're only saying that to make me happy, and it's working, but I rather not have you lie to me, Daria!" "Killian, I'm not lying to you!" I slap his shoulder in excitement, smiling until I swear my face is about to break from nostalgia. "I used to lie down on my back late at night when the other nuns were sleeping, and then I would remember that sexy voice and touch myself—I came hard every goddamn time!" My words ar
DariaYesterday, I found out that I have cancer. After extreme back pains, I was diagnosed with schwannoma neurofibrosarcoma, a malignant tumor in my spine. Now the asshole doctors are throwing terms in my face, thinking it will put a smile onto my lips by saying my survival rate is fifty-fifty with chemotherapy.Well, guess what?! I can't afford it! God bless America!Therefore, my motto right now is "Hakuna-fuck-treatment-Matata," and I even wrote a bucket list—five minutes ago inside my head! And that list is telling me to grab the first good-looking man I see and kiss him.As if God hears my heart's desire, I witness a tall man step out of a building and head for a park bench on the street. Cars drive past, honking at him, but he doesn't give them any attention as he flips through pages.Here is my chance!With my veil flowing in the wind, I steer my legs forward. My heart is beating a mile per second—I can't believe I'm doin
WilderIf life were a circus, I always imagined women as the beautiful and notorious ringleaders. Mischievous and charming enough to make men jump through hoops of fire, but now I've found a second type of woman—the crazy one who tells you to hold her beer before she jumps through the ring of fire by herself.Daria Withers is that type of woman—fearless, beautiful, and daring, like a lioness, even though she is supposedly a nun.Damn, I can't believe I kissed nun! Our kiss must have been Daria's first experience with a man if she is a real nun, yet she blew my mind.That woman, the only way to describe her is by saying WOW in capitalized letters. She came in like a storm, straddled my lap, and breathed fast before her soft lips made contact with mine.She set magical colors to my otherwise dull world with her mouth. My eyes snapped up into her face, and there she was, so beautiful and untamed that I couldn't even think straight.
DariaI'm kneading my thighs with clenched fists, guiltily staring down at the floor while Maria, the sister superior, is taking a break from scolding me from her desk. She is so upset that she is standing by her chair, one point from rupturing the tiny blood vessel in her forehead.I swallow thickly. My mouth tastes like poor decisions and pins and needles.Soon, Maria will pace the room. I recognize her stressed-out behavior too well, and this time, I've earned the tall woman's demeanor. She is already at the phase where she won't stop clutching her cross as if it would magically help her and tell her what to do."Not only did you touch a man, but you kissed one when you could only visit the hospital!" Maria is furious. Her voice is gossiping about her soon suffering a mental breakdown. Lines of anger have appeared on her forehead, making her look older.I pull my lips into my mouth, whispering my response. "I'm sorry-..."Maria interrupts
DariaMy head is spinning after being hit by the front of a Volvo, but I'm not dead or injured. I'm lying on my back while this stranger, an older woman, is scanning me for wounds with darting eyes. Worry is written all over her face.But I can't take in the rest of her features.I'm having a hard time focusing. For a long time, I'm just watching the birch trees sway from side to side in this ghostly way. A headache is building behind my temples, but my tumor has made me accustomed to pain. I don't mind it that much.With slouchy movements, I turn my attention to the lady. She is wearing a purple shawl over clean white clothes. Her skin is tanned dark from too much time in the sun, and her lips are wrinkly from what I can only assume is years of smoking. But she is omitting this kindness, and her brown eyes are as warm as chocolate on a snowy day."Are you hurt anywhere?" She asks."No..." I take a deep, calming breath. There is no reason to
DariaWhen we arrive at Elisabeth's apartment complex, the old lady is already waiting for us outside. She is smoking a cigarette while glaring at the car, looking like Iris's replica only a thousand times meaner. Her grey hair is tied up in a muffin, and she is wearing a blue dressing-gown as if it's her western take on a traditional kimono.Iris jumps out of the car, walking up to her sister with her arms akimbo to embrace the mean-looking little thing. I follow suit, aware of Elisabeth giving me the stink eye while hugging her sister."Hey, Elisabeth! Long time no see!"If Iris truly hates Elisabeth, she doesn't show, or maybe she knows how much her sister dislikes physical contact. Elisabeth already looks like a bomb ready to explode."Good evening..." Elisabeth nods at me. "I'm guessing this is the nun that you texted me about, am I right?"Iris beams up at me. "Yes, this is Daria."I awkwardly wave at Elisabeth, but I refrain fr