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Chapter Fifty-four : The End, But Not Everything
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Samlin Greenham
I suddenly open my eyes.
I blink and slowly move my head. The pain in head is light, a little like when you are injected morphine.
Where am I?
I move myself in a seated position, then look around the room, remaining dark.
It is my own room.
I clamber off from the bed and stand up and switch on the light. The clothes I'm wearing is dry, surprising. The windows are opened, bringing cold air and the door is opened, so I warily step outside.
Somebody brought me home.
How night is it?
"Mom, are you here?" I call out, wondering if someone's in our house. I stay still and try to hear any sound.
It's quiet.
I go downstairs and examine the front door, which is locked from inside. The grand clock says it's 7 p.m. a
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Transmuted : Love Of An Evening Chapter Two : Memories Come Back
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Transmuted : Love Of An Evening Chapter Three : The Grounds
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I uncontrollably sit on the ground.Apparently I fall."Hey, hey, you okay?" Edwin hurriedly sits beside me."I'm fine." I answer shakily, closing my eyes. Actually I wasn't fine. I haven't seen my psychiatrist for almost a month, haven't taken my medication. Now, the flashbacks are gone, but I still have the headache.I am breathing hard.I wonder what caused the flashbacks."C'mon," he wraps my left arm around his shoulder and lifts me up. "The lake is near. You need some fresh air."I walk with him, dropping my head in his shoulder. I feel a little surprised by my act, because I don't even know him.Or maybe I do.His body scent seems familiar."Don't try to think too much. When you apply pressure to remember a thing of your past, which was maybe painful, it affects your neuron cells.""It wasn't painful. Perhaps," I stop walking.And I open my eyes.Sudd
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Transmuted : Love Of An Evening Chapter Seven : New Mahone
Somebody is brushing hairs from my forehead. Then nudging my shoulder. "Sam, wake up," a voice tells softly.A male voice.I am feeling confused. There's no male person in our home. Then who is it? Did Dad come back?I try to open my eyes, but can't, because sunlight is hitting me. Who the hell opened the damn curtains of the damn window? I raise my hands to cover my eyes, but something is in them. Something muddy.Wait__I'm not in home, am I?"Sam," that voice tells again.I snap my eyes open.A strong face welcomes me.I adjust myself in a seated position, glancing around. Who is this guy?Shit! I fell asleep on the mountain top. All the night.I squint at the sunlight, not feeling as panicked as others should be."Who are you?" I look at his blue eyes."I can ask you the same question," he replies.I yawn, staring at my hands which are covered with
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Transmuted : Love Of An Evening Chapter Fifty-four : The End, But Not Everything
Samlin GreenhamI suddenly open my eyes.I blink and slowly move my head. The pain in head is light, a little like when you are injected morphine.Where am I?I move myself in a seated position, then look around the room, remaining dark.It is my own room.I clamber off from the bed and stand up and switch on the light. The clothes I'm wearing is dry, surprising. The windows are opened, bringing cold air and the door is opened, so I warily step outside.Somebody brought me home.How night is it?"Mom, are you here?" I call out, wondering if someone's in our house. I stay still and try to hear any sound.It's quiet.I go downstairs and examine the front door, which is locked from inside. The grand clock says it's 7 p.m. a
Transmuted : Love Of An Evening Chapter Fifty-three : Swimming
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Samlin GreenhamI suddenly open my eyes.I blink and slowly move my head. The pain in head is light, a little like when you are injected morphine.Where am I?I move myself in a seated position, then look around the room, remaining dark.It is my own room.I clamber off from the bed and stand up and switch on the light. The clothes I'm wearing is dry, surprising. The windows are opened, bringing cold air and the door is opened, so I warily step outside.Somebody brought me home.How night is it?"Mom, are you here?" I call out, wondering if someone's in our house. I stay still and try to hear any sound.It's quiet.I go downstairs and examine the front door, which is locked from inside. The grand clock says it's 7 p.m. a
Transmuted : Love Of An Evening Chapter Forty-eight : Hello
● Music recommendation : Maybe SomedaySamlin GreenhamI wake up in the morning, at least I think so that it's still morning. What made me wake up from my deep sleep? I glance around the bed and see that my phone is vibrating."Sorry, don't in a mood to answer," I mutter.I switch it off without glancing, because now I have no intention to go back to my house. My head is still hurting and processing the events what happened at yesterday.I sit up on the bed, brushing my messy hair. This house isn't mine, it's my Aunt Sicily's. When she went to Canada for a quite long time, she gave me her house keys and told me to look after it. I had almost forgotten about that until last night."Shit!" I wince in pain when I place my legs on the floor. Why didn't I feel the pain before? I thought a good night's sleep would reduce the hurt, but it didn't. How can
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Lynn Vandestine He pushes the door open of his new studi Painting has always been his hobby, but it is his first time to open a workshop like this. When he was in his adolescence, it wasn't one of his pleasant times. In order to lighten his mood, he used to climb up at the top of his favourite mountain, with papers and paints in the backpack. Often, he brushed colors gently on the canvas, while thinking if a girl would appear in front of him just like that drawin Now, the place can catch a plenty of natural light, one of the reason why he bought this. The layout is flexible, it's enough big for his work. The paintings around the studio are mostly portraits, but he drew some landscapes, too, tried to do another genr "Hi, Tom!" he greets the guy, who is moving his brush with so much attention, benting towards the easel. Tom is a local artist and a student of art college
Transmuted : Love Of An Evening Chapter Forty-six : Deja Vu
Lynn VandestineHe pushes the door open of his new studio. Painting has always been his hobby, but it is his first time to open a workshop like this. When he was in his adolescence, it wasn't one of his pleasant times. In order to lighten his mood, he used to climb up at the top of his favourite mountain, with papers and paints in the backpack. Often, he brushed colors gently on the canvas, while thinking if a girl would appear in front of him just like that drawing.Now, the place can catch a plenty of natural light, one of the reason why he bought this. The layout is flexible, it's enough big for his work. The paintings around the studio are mostly portraits, but he drew some landscapes, too, tried to do another genre."Hi, Tom!" he greets the guy, who is moving his brush with so much attention, benting towards the easel. Tom is a local artist and a student of art college,
