It never should have happened that way. We never should have gone out that day. But I’d insisted. And because I insisted, Wilma insisted. Our father could never say no when both his daughters teamed up on him. If only I’d changed my mind. If only the prospect of going to the mall for some silly clothes had felt distasteful to me. If only I hadn't insisted on riding in the backseat with him.It had been raining, heavily. The kind of rainfall that sounds more like a storm; wind howling, windowpanes trembling, and the droplets hitting the roof, the glass, the earth with a vengeance. Mom had been too lazy to join us, curled up in bed with a romance novel and a mug of hot mint tea. Maybe that’s what had saved her. If only it’d saved Dad too. If only he’d been adamant on being left alone in his office, playing chess and sipping whiskey.But no amount of wishing, no amount of ‘If onlys’ can change the past. I’m powerless to stop it. All I can do is remember.I’d been annoyed with Wilma when
I’m vomitting.That’s not even the wild part. Listen to this.I’m vomitting, and William Ravenstone is holding a large bowl under my face. I can smell the pungent, acidic odor of whatever I’m throwing up, like rotten cheese. I throw up more. His wrist is holding up my limp head, my hair gathered in his fist.“This is gross…” I groan in-between heaves. “It’s so- I’m so-”“Shh,” he replies, and I fall back into slumber, shuddering and gasping while he wipes my face with something cold and damp.Time passes.I think time passes, although I have no sense of it.The clock says 3:05 A.M when I sit upright again. A wet compress falls into my lap. I glance over and jerk in surprise at the weight on the bed next to me.“How are you feeling?” William asks, shifting a chess piece on the chessboard in his lap. He’s sitting against the headboard, lit up only by the glow of the lamp next to him on the nightstand. I notice a stack of medications arranged there neatly too. My gaze moves back to the c
When I wake up again, it’s morning, sunlight streaming into the room through the large windows and opened curtains. I blink a few times o clear away the bleariness of my sight, looking around and feeling a twinge of disappointment upon noticing that the space on the bed close to me is empty, and so is the couch. I stretch and hear my bones crack like my joints are rusty and in need of oiling.With a stifled yawn, I sit upright.The maddening headache is gone, and so is most of my fever, although I can’t remember much what has happened in the past twenty-four hours. My stmach still feels queasy, and very, very empty. It growls, as if to acknowledge my thoughts.I glance around the room for anything to eat, and my gaze zeroes in on an ancient-looking wooden bowl on the nightstand. With a series of twists and crawls and groans, I make it to the other side of the bed, and notice a small note with neat cursive handwriting. It says: EAT ME. Vaguely, it makes me recall the things that Alice
Unfortunately, I cant stab Mr. Ortega, or Mrs. Valerie, or the Doctor they came to see me with. William had given me one of his shirt -which was too large and too gray in my opinion, but I wasn’t complaining because it smelled like him and only common decorum was keeping me away from balling up the shirt and deeply inhaling it until I pass out of breath.I sneak a peak at William who’s leaning forward and talking with Doctor Foster. He’s not shirtless -to my bitter disappointment and dismay, he’d pulled on a black shirt before letting them in. These three adults standing in the middle of the room like they had teleported there, had robbed me of a shirtless Ravenstone.Still, he looks quite dashing in that black t-shirt.“Caillou?”I snap back, looking to Mr. Ortega. “Yes?” I answer, my throat still sore, my voice mostly croaky.“I asked if you can remember what you ate and drank before passing out back at the restaurant.” He repeats, shifting from one foot to the other, and staring do
I awake slowly, blinking and staring up at the hotel room ceiling that’s now starting to look as familiar as the one back in my dorm.The first thing I feel is the bitterness in my throat and the heavy sadness in my chest. Memories of the previous day slip back into my mind like unwanted phantoms. The parts of myself I’d kept glued together had come apart; shattered, in the rain. My tears had turn hysterical fast, and William had been there, asking me what was wrong and then holding me close as I wailed, once he realized I was far from being able to form coherent words.The pain of the accident, of losing my father, of my family being fractured beyond repair, had felt raw and fresh yesterday. But it was beyond just that. I’d cried because I was sad, because I was confused, and angry, and happy to be alive. The silver could’ve killed me, but it didn’t. I’d survived a tragedy once, and I’d blamed myself for being alive after it, but then I’d survived a second time, and I realized that s
The awkwardness is almost debilitating.I get dressed in the corner, quietly shrugging on my shorts and the polo shirt before pulling on the socks. William is gentleman enough to turn his back to me but apparently not gentleman enough to leave the room entirely. Would that be asking too much? Well, it didn’t matter anyways. I wanted him to stay, and I was done dressing.I run my fingers through my damp hair, loosening the few tangles. It will have to stay like that. I’d forgotten to add a blow drier to my packing list, and Wilma had been too busy being evil to notice.In the small vanity mirror, I look like myself again. And I have to say, Wilma did pick a really form-fitting outfit. Granted, I look like a preppy private school mean girl on her way to play golf and ruin lives, but I did make a very attractive preppy private school mean girl on her way to play golf and ruin lives.The fabric of the polo shirt is thin, and the temperature in the room a little chilly. And you know what t
Chapter 44:The rules of the game are quite simple.It’s almost exactly like truth or dare, but instead of having to complete a proposed dare when you opt for it, you strip; getting rid of one item of clothing at a time; each the equivalent of a dare. The idea behind the alteration is to get the people playing to be as honest as possible. Unless of course the players are eager to get their clothes off. It’s brilliant; I’m hitting two birds with one stone; getting Ravenstone undressed, and getting him to be honest with me for once, since I’m sure he wouldn’t be too eager to get naked in front of me.That’s if he agrees to it.I watch him quietly. He watches me back.I hold my tongue from explaining further, beyond the basic rules of what the game entails, that is. Half of the appeal of something like this is the intrigue and the mystery the idea is shrouded in. I wanted answers out of him. Maybe as badly as I wanted to get him undressed.“Isabella…” he runs a hand through his hair, sig
It takes us both approximately one full frantic minute to get dressed, rearrange the ivory table, the chairs, and ourselves. William dashes into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and I take a deep breath, sauntering over to the main door and opening it.“Ta da!” Akio cheers. “We brought-” He pauses, lowering the basket he’d held above his head like a trophy and sizing me up and down. “Were you in the middle of something?” He asks, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He’s wearing a checkered blue and black 70’s disco suit, the pattern assaulting my eyes like a bad optical illusion. His matching cowboy hat is tipped back, the strings lost in his long black hair.My gaze darts to Bibah next to him, and she has the same narrowed look of suspicion, a slow smile creeping into her face. She’s in a gorgeous black studded abaya -the same one we’d shopped for together online, with a nude hijab a few shades darker than her skin tone. If it weren’t for all the glitter going on with Akio’s su
I can't help the grin as it stretches across my face. Even when I tone down my teeth display for the camera, my giddiness makes my grin return to its full glory.These are the kind of joyful moments in life when everything aligns perfectly, and the future gleams with a brilliance that outshines the sun.Similar to tiny fireflies, the fairy lights surrounding us emit a soft glow in the approaching evening. My gaze shifts to the rows of people smiling and mingling, the white roses gathered in their transparent vases, the band playing an old classical melody that Akio Kamio has cherished for most of his life, and ultimately to Bibah's radiant smile, outshining even the stars in the sky.Bibah stands gracefully in her wedding gown, a vision of elegance and modesty. The gown's creamy hue complements her radiant complexion, and the intricate lace patterns and delicate beadwork trace enchanting designs across the fabric.Her head is adorned with a delicate hijab, carefully draped to frame her
The idea of dying... it's like staring into a dark abyss, wondering what lies beyond. Am I ready for it? Is anyone ever truly prepared to let go of everything they know? It's as if life is this intricate tapestry, woven with memories, experiences, and dreams, and death is that final thread that could unravel it all.I've heard people say that death gives life meaning. That the inevitability of our mortality forces us to seize the fleeting moments and savor them. Is that why we laugh, love, and strive to make a mark? To counteract the impending darkness?But what if it's not about the mark we leave, but the mark we've made on ourselves? Like, how every heartbreak, triumph, and mistake molds us into this intricate sculpture of a person. And maybe death is the moment when we step back and see the whole masterpiece.It's terrifying, though. The unknown. The thought of losing consciousness, of the world carrying on without me. Will I be forgotten? Will my laughter fade into the wind, like
The mountain top stretches out before us, bathed in the silvery glow of the moonlight. Jagged rocks and hardy shrubs dot the landscape, offering scarce cover. The air is crisp and thin, carrying with it a sense of anticipation. A veil of darkness conceals the treacherous precipices that lie beyond the edges.My heart races as we stand on the precipice, the night sky a blanket of twinkling stars above. The wind whispers of secrets yet to be revealed, as William's gaze scans the vast expanse. This was the kind of place he used to love—a rooftop under the sky.His eyes narrow, a flicker of recognition passing over his features, like a spark trying to ignite a long-dormant memory. I hold my breath, hoping that this moment will be the catalyst, the key to unlocking the past he's lost.Before my thoughts can fully settle, a guttural shout splits the air, shattering the tranquility. My head snaps towards the disturbance, and my heart lurches as seven figures emerge from the shadows, armed wi
“Are you sure this is the place?”“Absolutely.” I whisper back at William, uneasily glancing around the empty expanse of the beach. It feels like we’re about to break into a bank and steal cash. “Unless she invited me for breakfast in a friend’s apartment, then I guess we’ll be knocking on a strangers door.” I add in a rush of huffed out breath.William looks skeptic. “Isabe-”I step forward and press the ringer, cutting off William’s words. Time had passed us by while on the boat, and now it’s past the normal curfew of the resort. The demarcated areas outside the resort -including the mountain we’d impulsively decided to go to- were now closed off for the day. Since Tamie has been here her whole life and her family owns the resort and I somewhat feel as if we’re friends now, I thought that maybe asking for her help would be a good idea.Silence continues to answer me.“Mochi definitely came out of here.” I mutter, frowning at the whole modern shack like it had personally offended me.
“Maybe we should call it a win win and stop here.” I suggest, leaning back as the last few chuckles escape me, my laughter finally subsiding.William raises a triumphant eyebrow as he rearranges the chess pieces back to their normal starting formation. “Giving up already?” He taunts, smirking.“You wish.” I reply, rolling my eyes before sighing. “I’m just tired of staring at the pieces.”We have been playing cheating chess since after breakfast when I got back to the suite from my conversation and walk with Tamie. William had brought his chess board along from the pack estate, and had suggested we play it, in hopes that he might remember something again. There has been no luck in that area, but at the very least, we’ve had an unexplainable amount of fun as the hours flew by. We fixate on morals of the game, creating new rules, and finding more ridiculous ways to justify breaking the classical rules of chess.The sun is setting now, painting our beach-side view of the window a brillian
The very next morning, I wake up early, get out of the ball dress I ended up sleeping in, and took a quick shower, changing into more comfortable beach shorts and a loose tank top.When I leave the bedroom, William is still curled up in the sheets, sleeping. I call the room service and other an elaborate breakfast, hoping to return the heartwarming gesture he had done to me when we got here.Out of the breakfast of waffles, fruits, and a jug of a fancy cocktail blend fresh from the Island’s own produce, I only manage a single waffle before leaving the suite and closing the door softly behind me.Now, where the heck do I start looking for Tamie?I go out to the beach, taking the trail where William and I had first seen her walking her Pekingese dog. Well, more like where we saw her dog about to drown and rescued him.It’s a sunny day, the sand warm as the soft, fine grains slip in and out my flip flops. The ocean’s waves laps eagerly at the shore, and I squint into the far distance, in
Leaving the chaotic ballroom behind, we retreat to the quiet safety of our room. The tension of the night still lingers between us, though now it's wrapped in a cocoon of slight awkwardness.William doesn’t say anything, still steaming with remnants of his anger, and neither do I, as we enter the bedroom and he shrugs off his jacket. I notice a few specs of blood staining the front part of his white shirt.“You shouldn’t have done that.” I sigh, retrieving a first aid kit from a nearby drawer, sitting him down at the edge of the bed and gently begin tending to the cut on William's lip, my touch both soothing and reproachful.He winces at the disinfectant that touches the small split flesh where the silver rings had made impact."Oh, now you can feel pain?" I chide softly, dabbing the wound with an antiseptic swab. "Stop being such a baby. I know you were defending me, but there are better ways you could’ve handled the situation."Like poisoning the bastard.Or gutting him in a dark al
We spend the rest of the night and the following day simply talking and exploring. William asks a lot of questions about our time in Acadia Academy, and I try my hardest to answer him to the best of my ability, although none of my answers end up triggering his memory.Soon, the night of the ball arrives.Preparing for the ball is a whirlwind of anticipation and excitement. The vibrant energy that courses through me is infectious as I carefully choose my attire for the evening; my makeup already done and my hair painstakingly pinned up into an updo. The dress, a delicate masterpiece of flowing midnight blue silk, shimmers with an iridescent glow in the soft light of our suite. Its off-shoulder neckline adds a touch of elegance, and the intricate lacework along the bodice and hem hints at the craftsmanship that went into its creation. With every twirl in front of the mirror, I feel like a character from a fairytale.I don’t even remember when I bought the dress.The air is electric as I
I gradually stir from my peaceful slumber, the room cast in a gentle twilight as the sun dips below the horizon.I yawn.How long have I been asleep?As I stretch and sit up, I notice a beautifully arranged plate of dinner on the nearby table and a goofy smile overtakes my face. William must’ve kept it there for me. I glance around the bedroom and the living room for the second time, looking for him, but I don’t spot him anywhere.Where did he go?My stomach rumbles in response to the inviting aroma of the garlic butter stake and potato skillet, and I find myself savoring the delicious flavors as I sit at the edge of the bed with the tray and devour the food.Sated and content, I decide to take advantage of the cool evening air and to also look for William. I change out of my t-shirt and jeans into sleeping shorts and a bralette, despite the cool weather. The sliding glass door leads me to the terrace, where the world is adorned with the soft glow of moonlight. My gaze is drawn to the