Novel & Cerita Solitude By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

We watched the aurora side by side, carving our names into the snow. He whispered, "Your smile is more beautiful than the northern lights." To my surprise, I felt moved as I listened to his clumsy sweet talk. Years ago, Mother had knelt and begged me, "Elara, please, take care of Rhett… The Northern Territory is a treacherous place. He won't survive without his birth mother's protection." Back then, I looked at that pitiful pup curled in a corner, eyes full of fear and loneliness. Something inside me was gently stirred.

Cole suddenly couldn’t breathe. She scrambled over her bed and threw open the window. It was right on the turn: that moment between evening and night, suspended in a golden haze. The air moved sluggishly. Tasted sticky. She rested her head against the edge of the casement. Too hot. Too cold. Too fucked. People were moving to and fro across the quad like incidentals in a T. S. Eliot poem. Friends and lovers scattered under the trees in the fading light. And she’d never felt so fucking alone.

Ri dropped me off at home after our conversation. Both of us were adamant about refusing to give in to each other's wishes so the car ride was spent in silence because there was nothing else left to say. I currently sit in my room by myself. Solitude gives me peace, it gives me time to arrange my thoughts and give myself the mental pep talk I need. The house is silent and I rest my back on the headboard as I listen to the wind whistle and stare at the curtains that move ghostly across my window revealing glimpses of a full moon.

“The world will always ask you for your story. But sometimes, silence is the best answer. Sometimes, your truth belongs only to you and the people you love.” Rex said nothing. He stood perfectly still, staring at the screen with an expression Judith had never seen before. Not in full. Grief. Longing. And something worse: recognition. As though, at that moment, something inside him had clicked into place. As though the truth was no longer a fog but a mountain—unavoidable, undeniable, and too solid to move past. Judith sat up. “Rex…” He didn’t turn. Didn’t blink. He stared until Annie’s face shifted off-screen, replaced by the next segment teaser.

A pathetic loss of life, with a horrible end planned for her, made her suspicious about everything over there, there was no one for her there anymore. She was reminding the innocence of Alexa that she met for the first time, where her undead soul pleaded with her to save her from the painful death that she suffers every fortnight. 'When my body is frail and dusted with exhaustion, plaques of fever taking my body, when my mind is torn and aches with the exhaustion of sorrow, the only remedy that comes to me is you, your mere presence makes it better, I look at you for the betterment of mine. I wish I find you around me forever'

With a glance at the clock, she watched the minutes tick by, the time inching closer to the plan she wished she could escape. Meanwhile, in her dimly lit room, as night fall approaches, Ella lay awake, the lingering sense of loneliness pressing down on her. She hadn’t been able to contact Derek since he left, and her mind felt hollow in Lila’s silence. Without her wolf, she felt incomplete, a shadow of her true self. “Lila… please,” she murmured softly, closing her eyes as she reached deep within, searching for the familiar warmth of her wolf. “You can’t leave me too.”

With a glance at the clock, she watched the minutes tick by, the time inching closer to the plan she wished she could escape. --- Meanwhile, in her dimly lit room, as night fall approaches, Ella lay awake, the lingering sense of loneliness pressing down on her. She hadn’t been able to contact Derek since he left, and her mind felt hollow in Lila’s silence. Without her wolf, she felt incomplete, a shadow of her true self. “Lila… please,” she murmured softly, closing her eyes as she reached deep within, searching for the familiar warmth of her wolf. “You can’t leave me too.”

Just her. Jillian walked over, handing her a glass. "Scotch. Single malt. Neat. If you prefer something else—" "This is perfect," Clara interrupted, taking a sip. The liquid burned pleasantly down her throat. She walked toward the glass wall, looking out at the sprawling horizon. "It's quiet up here. Almost unnaturally so." "Isolation is the price of keeping people out," Jillian stated, leaning against the edge of a massive leather sofa. "Which brings us to the final formality."