Novel & Cerita Three Years Made Her Cold

Knox P.O.V Three years later. Cold wind blew by ruffling through my hair as I placed the white bouquet of lilies on the tombstone . The cemetery was deserted . I looked down at the ground where I buried her the day she died . I can not believe three years have passed since I lost her that day. It was the last day I held her hand . I lost her in my arms . I tried to blink away the tears yet a single tear slid down. Pain rises from the bottom of my heart whenever I think about her. I know she does not want me to cry . It felt like yesterday she was smiling at me and the next moment I had to carry her cold body here.

Blake could see from the gap that the woman was sitting on the ground, holding a piece of toy part and crying sadly. His brows furrowed and he turned to leave. Behind him, she cried in a low voice and complained, "I cover the stone in my heart..." "It has been three years... Why have I always felt the cold here?"

She lifted her eyes. She did not look at my face. She looked at the rejection scar at my collarbone. The scar was silver. The scar was visible at the collar of the dress I was wearing, because I had not worn the pendant today. I had decided at breakfast not to wear the pendant. The scar was meant to be visible. The girl was meant to see it. She saw it. Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened. "Three months." Her voice was rough. It was the voice of a fifteen-year-old who had not used her voice in three months and was using it now because the woman in front of her had a silver rejection scar at her collarbone and the woman was alive and the scar was old.

I looked at her wrist. She said: For thirty-one years they have been cold. She said cold the way people said words that had become facts through repetition, words that had stopped feeling like descriptions and started feeling like the thing itself. Cold and fixed and not changing and not healing and not doing anything except being there as a reminder of what happened in an assessment room when I was twenty-nine years old. She said: Three weeks ago they went warm. She looked at my mark. She said: I need to know what that means.

I ruffled my hair; well, what’s left of it. She hugged her body as the window flew open and a gust of wind danced through her hair, her face went red and she shivered. I hissed and locked the window; everyone else just stared at the window. Thank God for Reign, they would be here freezing their lazy behinds off. Outside it looked as if it was coming closer to night and it was just 3:30pm.

Not only did she refuse to listen to my explanation, but she even scolded me for lying. She grabbed a broom and hit me with it viciously, acting as though I had been the one to beat up Anthony. She hit me for three whole hours, and I had been bedridden for a week before I could get up again. Due to this incident, I missed a Math Olympiad that could have won me a scholarship. After Katrina’s and Madison’s bodies were cremated, Arnold brought Samantha to my grave and had their ashes buried with me. Katrina had been an orphan. Due to her condition and the need to care for Madison, she did not have any friends. Thus, her funeral was settled just like that.

My body is still in pieces. "You didn't understand, did you?" And a full bucket of ice-cold water hits me square in the face. My heart skips a beat. I choke. I suffocate. I cling to the couch so as not to fall. My hair sticks to my skin. My pajamas become a cold shroud. The room stinks of cheap soap, humiliation, and vengeance. She looks down at me. "I've been dreaming of this moment for three years. Three years I've put up with your sad face, your lack of class, your bland cooking, your empty belly. Oh, forgive me — now it's full?"

It can’t be the same. It’s been three years. Three fucking years. My throat feels tight. The air in my lungs turns to stone. I had searched for her, begged, hunted, lost sleep, and lost myself until I finally gave up. Until I told myself she was gone. That I needed to move on. That she wasn’t coming back. I remember the heartbreak I felt when she rejected me. The pain that almost crushed me when I realized she wasn’t ever coming back. That she must have gone to great lengths to make sure I didn’t ever find her.

Upon hearing the news, Maya was so excited that we spoke for three whole hours. She couldn't wait for me to board the plane and return to Thalora. The next day, when my flight landed, Maya rushed to greet me. She was accompanied by Holly and a few other colleagues. Three years had passed, and each of them carried the marks of time. When they saw me, they all seemed surprised. In the years I had been living for myself, I hadn’t aged. In fact, I looked rather youthful to them. It was a little after that I learned why Kit had suddenly disappeared in the second year I was in Solara.

It was my fault and I am the only one to blame. I decided to leave the ice cream house to quit hurting myself by reminiscing Blakely and Andrew’s memories, but I was shocked when I bumped into a very familiar woman. She changed and became thinner. Her eyes were blank and exhausted. And her then long black hair was now gone. Those three years without her felt like a torture, and now I can see her in front of me. I am certain it’s her. I treated her like my own child, and a mother would never mistake someone else as her child.