Semua Bab HIS TOY : Bab 31 - Bab 40

DECEMBER A blanket of white had enveloped the world, trees wore wearily on its head the pristine snow. People covered in fluffy coats walked down the streets, a soft crunch of snow under their feet. Some stayed in as the woods burnt fiercely but slowly in their fires, their roofs encrusted with frost. Some watched through the window fascinated by the beautiful scene and eerie silence. An old man worked on his snow covered porch, while the rest made pure love warming themselves without fire — but sex. No, it was love. Children dressed like dolls played outside running around with happiness with the thought of going home to hot chocolate, sweet crackers and midnight stories. Some went sledding while the others made snowmen. Far away from the happiness, euphoria and subtle mixed emotions… far away from the shouts and cries stood the Xavier's estate. It had been refurbished and shown clearly in the frozen sky. Annie had lightened the house; she added brightly coloured flowers an

AMELIA XAVIER Nothing could surpass the serenity of the environment, from the sunlight casting its warm rays towards the Xavier's estate to the very flowers that lay beautifully on the east wing. It was a moment one could decide their future and never change their mind because that decision would automatically change the lives they most dreaded. I, Amelia Xavier stared at the black shiny gate of the Xavier's household… my father's house. It's been years since I came here — or maybe I had visited a few times. After Annie got married to father, I moved to the boarding house, then moved on to get a degree in literature and a Masters degree… .Eleven years away from home. I walked into the large compound unconsciously holding my breath and letting it out when I figured I couldn't breathe. Memories raced through my mind like a bride running from her wedding. I shut my eyes half expecting to stop them. “I'm normal… everything would go well,” I murmured making the worst attemp

AMELIA XAVIER The streets of Paris looked rather pleasant, the street lights and the well lit restaurants lined up like an endless tail of a serpent. Stars dotted the sky as the crescent moon tried its best at bringing light to the already lit roads. Paris had so much life. I walked down the street admiring the modest but extravagant lifestyle of these people, and not to lie, the fashion was on a whole different level. I switched on my phone to check the time. 10:01pm Sighing, I decided it was time to head back to my hotel since father thought it was best I stayed in a small room and avoided the big places. I didn't complain. Walking down the road, I noticed how peaceful life here felt or that was how normal people saw it to be — if I were here, then danger lurked by waiting to strike at any moment. I gulped at the thought of causing trouble and suddenly the feeling of home sickness overtook me. “I've done it before. I can do it again,” I muttered, assuring myself and try

AMELIA XAVIER How can one explain an emotion; anger, joy, worry… . I couldn't explain what I felt whether it was anger, disgust or even clear excitement. But only one thing could help overcome such feelings. Violence. I punched Owen in the face, and instantly felt a lot better. “Ouch, I deserved that beautiful,” he said sarcastically, his voice deep, but clear like spring water out from a stone. “You deserve more,” I retorted, my shoulders relaxed and my fist slowly uncurled. I assessed Owen Winters, his hair slick and shiny, and as always, he had a clean look. His shoulders seemed broader , probably with years of experience with work. “You're different,” I muttered, his cologne strong, dousing my nose from the smell of alcohol that filled the room. I didn't know what the perfume scented like, but it worked wonders for my nose. Owen laughed, taking a bottle of alcohol from the small bucket on a table. “Let's get some air, love, we have a lot to catch up on,” he said, his

OWEN WINTERS I knew the way home like the back of my palm — I mean who wouldn't, it was home after all and most of my life was spent there… at home.Unhappy memories that weren't vague. I stepped out of my Mercedes, I could feel the air around me. It read normal, but that would be only for a moment.“Welcome home, Mr Owen.” I nodded my head in greeting, swiftly passing the usher and the guests scattered in different places, going straight to the gallery where Father stood leaning towards the railings.“Since when did my son start avoiding me?” He asked, playing with the content in the wine glass in his hand. “Avoid? Now why would I avoid you, père?” I retorted looking into his eyes.They looked tired. Father sighed straightening up, he turned to face me. “Young people these days do, I thought you might not come,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. Father wasn't a problem. I never had a problem with the old man, but then… .Then what?“You called me here to celebrate my comi