Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Twenty Four
It felt like hours later, when I was staring to finally calm down, starting to understand that I wasn’t going to wake up, that all I could do was sob. William really did bring me home. But… was he going to keep his promise and come back? That’s the question that made it hard to stop crying.
I'm so sorry if you've ever been heart-broken. I've never been in official break up... but I have felt that pain in other ways.
So I had planned for Serene to really go home that time when William had sent her off with George. I wrote almost the end until I realized I'd rather, they both get caught by the sovereign. So this is what I wrote and I hope you enjoy!
*************************************************************
I’m dreaming, I think, I’ve got to be. This is just another nightmare, and I know that once I look out my window I’ll go through the exact dramatic thing; see William leave me. So instead, I hug my knees to my chest, and wait to wake up.
The sky outside was slowly brightening up, but the rain didn’t stop, I wouldn’t wake up. It was like, with every second, I was feeling more awake, more aware, with this torturing feeling of something not being right. Tears were threatening my eyes, and I couldn’t understand why. I was only sleeping.
"Wake me up, William," I whisper to myself, in hope that I’d talk in my sleep. After a few seconds of nothing, I repeated my words a bit louder, a few more times. Nothing. I was getting desperate to wake up, to have him hold me in his arms again, for him to tell me I’m the most beautiful wife in the whole universe. It doesn’t sound so silly when he says it. It sounds perfect and heart-melting.
"Wake me up!" Why am I crying? Why can’t I hold in my whimpers; my shaking body?
My bedroom door opens, and I hear a cry as my parents run in, my little brother trying to push in between them. I’m surrounded by them, all of them holding me, shivering with me, sobbing with me. I tried to pull away, to make them stop, because I already made my choice, and I wasn’t going to let this one dream change that. I keep yelling for William to wake me up, but why won’t he? Did he leave the room for a moment? Did he think I was having a nice dream and didn’t want to wake me up? Was my body simply just lying there, next to him, showing no signs of me having a nightmare?
They tried to calm me down, and it was only several seconds later that policemen came running in, making my family take a step back so they could hold me down, restrain me, so I wouldn’t hurt myself or anyone else.
It felt like hours later, when I was staring to finally calm down, starting to understand that I wasn’t going to wake up, that all I could do was sob. William really did bring me home. But…was he going to keep his promise and come back? That’s the question that made it hard to stop crying.
The ambulance was heard outside my window, and it wasn’t long before men that almost appeared like firemen rushed in, checking to see if I had wounds around my body. Of course, they won’t find anything - oh wait, but they do. Barley visible on my shoulder was the tiniest red dot, something a hypodermic needle would make.
William was real. We did kiss. We did marry. We did have the most memorable night of our life. And he took it all away with a prick.
"I will be back," he had said. And now those words will haunt me until the day he puts them into action.
Policemen walked in, my mom walked in, my dad walked in, even my little brother, Joshua, walked in - all of them trying to get me alone - to ask me what I remembered; what had happened. They all got the same three quivering words - I don’t know.
They took me to the hospital, even with the little proof they had that I’ve been hurt. I’m immediately given a room, and I just lay there as they search my body for any more marks; ask me questions without getting answer; and then giving me, what the nurse called "Benzodiazepine, a sedation," to stop the emotional pain that would make me cry suddenly. The medication worked miracles.
They found nothing; they couldn’t figure out why I was kidnapped. The prick on my shoulder was explained as "an injection of a fast working sedating medication." I was falling into a sleep, though, when the doctor explained that to my parents.
The sun was down by the time they let me go. Policemen assure they would be surrounding our territory to make sure no intruder came through. The thought suddenly terrified me, wondering how William would pass them. Would he do whatever he could to make sure to see me, or give up with one failing try?
I lay on my bed, staring at nothing, the thought of never waking up from reality horrifying me. I’d start sobbing all of a sudden, not being able to stop; but suddenly, the world around me would go silent, and I only hoped I was dead, not wanting to feel the desperation and grief any more.
It was morning when my bedroom door opened and my mom walked in silently. She sat at the edge of my bed, and her hands reached down to stroke my hair, only giving me memories of William; when he would do that to me every time during a horror movie, when I’d hide my face in his chest, or in the garden, when I’d lie on my back with my eyes shut, to feel the sun on my face, secretly wishing he’d bend down and kiss me.
I sit up and hug her, my sobs coming back to their sudden life, and she held me, just like any mother would do, whispering me soothing words, her hand never leaving my hair. I can tell she’s holding in her own tears, her body tensing only a bit as I cried on her shoulder. And as the hours passed, when she didn’t move, I wondered how selfish I was, when I wanted to leave and forget her completely.
The days passed slowly, every second sinking into me as tears. I was glad that school ended only a week after I sneaked out to the party, not having to worry about much except taking one or two final exams that they’ll give me a couple of months to get ready for. I’d lay awake at night, every faded step or crack making me jerk up, in hope that William would be there, ready to retrieve me. But that never happened.
It took a couple of weeks for me to finally realize that I had to be strong for my family, knowing they were only suffering with me, with no clue on to why I was grieving. So I stopped my grieving, but only when my family was with me - only smiling when they expected me to, only speaking the answers they hoped to get back. Whether I liked it or not; I was the puppet; reality ruled my strings.
It’s been four weeks since my miraculous return, and it’s been a week that I’ve been pretending to be happy; back to myself. Katherine came by to visit almost every other day, and not once did she ask me what happened, knowing that I’d talk about it when I wanted to - which would be never. When she invited me to a summer sleepover, my mom encouraged me to go. I complied, knowing that this would be a sign that I was recuperating - for her anyway. Plus, how bad can a sleepover be? It wasn’t until I arrived at Katherine’s house that I realized this wasn’t going to be an all girls sleepover.
"No going overboard this time," she promised when she saw my puzzlement. Well, not everyone can keep a promise.
Music, drinks, - less than how many they had at the party, though - loud jokes that made no sense at all, and then came the game spin the bottle, a game I’ve been able to avoid since I was a little girl. But that was when nobody knew me. Now everyone here recognized me as the girl who disappeared for more than three weeks. They all insisted, I join the game, and Katherine only made things harder when she took my hand and led me to the circle of people.
"The suspense will get your mind off of anything that’s bothering you," she says. For some reason, hearing that something can calm me makes me more willing to do it.
The very thought of complying makes me feel sick, and I pull my hand away from her.
I must have given her a terrifying look because her eyes suddenly turned soft. "You don’t have to play then," she says. "Just come watch, okay?" I hesitantly take a seat by her. She goes first and spins the bottle.
I’m nervous for her, wondering how she can be so calm and excited. What if it was a girl? Or the guy she’s secretly hated since kindergarten? And as if it was just her luck, the tip of the bottle lands on a guy she’s mentioned before, someone who was on her list of good-looking guys. I simply have to look away when they kiss, but I hear the circle go into a cheer and laughs, knowing that their kiss was longer than intended.
Then I feel Katherine by my side again, a smile on her lips as she hands the bottle to the guy beside us.
I hate how everyone goes silent, waiting for the bottle to predict their future. It seems like hours, like time is slowing down just to kill you; make you wait. And then the bottle starts to slow down, slowly making its way back to me. I froze, and my shield of "feeling just fine" tumbles down. I turn to see the one who spun the bottle and recognize him this time as, yet another guy from Katherine’s good looking guy list. Yes, I remember him, a cocky arrogant jerk, to me. He’s grinning, only making my conclusion true.
Before I could even remember why I’m staring at him, he’s already leaning in, his eyes staring at my lips. I can only freeze. I try to make my limbs move; make my brain to connect with my movements again. Suddenly his hands grab my neck and he pulls me in, making me yelp in surprise.
Everyone laughs and cheers as he forces his lips onto mine, ignoring my desire to pull away. And then I find myself struggling, yelling, demanding him to stop, and he does, shocked by my response and my desperation.
The circle stares at me, some whispering, and some still laughing quietly. Withholding my tears, I get to my feet and storm out of the room - ignoring Katherine’s calls, out of the house. He was a jerk, I kept telling myself. But all I could think about was the betrayal I felt, a betrayal I did, to William. Why didn’t I move? Because I thought one kiss was going to make me feel a bit better like Katherine had said? How would I feel if William kissed someone else? The thought made me feel woozy and sick.
I walked down the almost deserted street, ignoring my shivers, trying to unsuccessfully hold in my sobs. My feet failed me, and soon, I was sitting on the sidewalk, holding my shuddering myself, trying to make myself stop. I couldn’t.
I glance around, hoping no one is watching me ready to call the police, only so they can ask more questions. But someone is. The figure quickly slides behind a tree when it sees me, and I quickly get to my feet.
All I could think of is William, thinking maybe he’s considering on coming back early, but is seeing how I’m functioning first; seeing if I’m enjoying myself like he said I should. I rush to the tree where I last saw the figure, but once I arrive, no one’s there.
And again, I’m overwhelmed with grief.
I was thankful Katherine’s house wasn’t far from mine, and after years of being her friend, I knew how to not get lost. I slowly made my way up my tree, not wanting to wake up my parents now, knowing they’d only get more worried than they already were.
I remembered having that nightmare where William scaled this very tree, and the thought slowly drained me again. I also remember climbing this tree with him; one of our last moments together.
The worst part when I made it to my window was when I couldn’t open it. They locked it. After my disappearance, my parents made sure to lock every single thing that could be opened in this house.
I slammed my fist onto the tree with a whimper, but somehow the force caused the branch I was stepping on to crack, and I fall to the ground with a yelp. When I reach the ground, my hands slamming against it, I feel the excruciating pain travel up my arm, and I know I’ve broken it. But even though I’m yelling in pain, only a squeak comes out from my mouth, and I can’t speak, because it felt like the air slowly sucked its way out of me.
Catching my breath seems like the most impossible thing at the moment. I hear a ringing in my ears, and I can’t even hear the nearest cricket I heard only seconds ago. My eyes are wide open, though, and I do see the figure hurry its way to my side. When one of its hands reaches my shoulder while the other is placed on my back, I only let out another squeak of pain.
And then I feel it, the familiar rush of the pain being pulled away from me; the feeling that made me feel like falling asleep as if William’s hand was on my head; the feeling that was able to take away - just for a second - the tormenting anguish I’ve felt all these weeks.
And once I could move, as soon as I could breathe, I clutched one of these hands, not letting Demitri leave me. I jerk up and wrap my arms around him in a tight grip that made sure it was impossible for him to pull away. I didn’t care that he was tense, I didn’t care if he couldn’t breathe; I only cared that I was hugging one of William’s closest things that I knew he held dear to his heart. When he realizes I won’t let go, he hesitantly hugs me back, and the next thing I know, I’m back to sobbing. He tries to soothe me with some words that I can hardly hear; but they probably mean nothing. I just never want to let go, knowing that this was my proof; that it was all real.
"Take me to him," I begged.
I feel him tense even more; he takes a while to answer. "I can’t."
When he says that it only causes another whimper in my throat. "Why?"
"It’ll only put you in danger. The sovereign - he knows you’re gone. He’s looking for you. He’ll…"
He trails off, and I know he’s choosing his words carefully. I knew he didn’t expect to ever talk to me, and I was glad that I fell off my tree.
"He’s ok, right?" Demitri knew who I was talking about.
"Yes," he answers. I’m relieved, but I can’t stop crying.
"What’s going on with you guys? What’s the plan?"
"Someone’s coming," he whispers, and just like that, he has to pull my arms away from him, giving me a look of sympathy, and he vanishes, right before my parents find my sobbing self under the tree.
So I had planned for Serene to really go home that time when William had sent her off with George. I wrote almost the end until I realized I'd rather, they both get caught by the sovereign. So this is what I wrote and I hope you enjoy!
*************************************************************
I’m dreaming, I think, I’ve got to be. This is just another nightmare, and I know that once I look out my window I’ll go through the exact dramatic thing; see William leave me. So instead, I hug my knees to my chest, and wait to wake up.
The sky outside was slowly brightening up, but the rain didn’t stop, I wouldn’t wake up. It was like, with every second, I was feeling more awake, more aware, with this torturing feeling of something not being right. Tears were threatening my eyes, and I couldn’t understand why. I was only sleeping.
"Wake me up, William," I whisper to myself, in hope that I’d talk in my sleep. After a few seconds of nothing, I repeated my words a bit louder, a few more times. Nothing. I was getting desperate to wake up, to have him hold me in his arms again, for him to tell me I’m the most beautiful wife in the whole universe. It doesn’t sound so silly when he says it. It sounds perfect and heart-melting.
"Wake me up!" Why am I crying? Why can’t I hold in my whimpers; my shaking body?
My bedroom door opens, and I hear a cry as my parents run in, my little brother trying to push in between them. I’m surrounded by them, all of them holding me, shivering with me, sobbing with me. I tried to pull away, to make them stop, because I already made my choice, and I wasn’t going to let this one dream change that. I keep yelling for William to wake me up, but why won’t he? Did he leave the room for a moment? Did he think I was having a nice dream and didn’t want to wake me up? Was my body simply just lying there, next to him, showing no signs of me having a nightmare?
They tried to calm me down, and it was only several seconds later that policemen came running in, making my family take a step back so they could hold me down, restrain me, so I wouldn’t hurt myself or anyone else.
It felt like hours later, when I was staring to finally calm down, starting to understand that I wasn’t going to wake up, that all I could do was sob. William really did bring me home. But…was he going to keep his promise and come back? That’s the question that made it hard to stop crying.
The ambulance was heard outside my window, and it wasn’t long before men that almost appeared like firemen rushed in, checking to see if I had wounds around my body. Of course, they won’t find anything - oh wait, but they do. Barley visible on my shoulder was the tiniest red dot, something a hypodermic needle would make.
William was real. We did kiss. We did marry. We did have the most memorable night of our life. And he took it all away with a prick.
"I will be back," he had said. And now those words will haunt me until the day he puts them into action.
Policemen walked in, my mom walked in, my dad walked in, even my little brother, Joshua, walked in - all of them trying to get me alone - to ask me what I remembered; what had happened. They all got the same three quivering words - I don’t know.
They took me to the hospital, even with the little proof they had that I’ve been hurt. I’m immediately given a room, and I just lay there as they search my body for any more marks; ask me questions without getting answer; and then giving me, what the nurse called "Benzodiazepine, a sedation," to stop the emotional pain that would make me cry suddenly. The medication worked miracles.
They found nothing; they couldn’t figure out why I was kidnapped. The prick on my shoulder was explained as "an injection of a fast working sedating medication." I was falling into a sleep, though, when the doctor explained that to my parents.
The sun was down by the time they let me go. Policemen assure they would be surrounding our territory to make sure no intruder came through. The thought suddenly terrified me, wondering how William would pass them. Would he do whatever he could to make sure to see me, or give up with one failing try?
I lay on my bed, staring at nothing, the thought of never waking up from reality horrifying me. I’d start sobbing all of a sudden, not being able to stop; but suddenly, the world around me would go silent, and I only hoped I was dead, not wanting to feel the desperation and grief any more.
It was morning when my bedroom door opened and my mom walked in silently. She sat at the edge of my bed, and her hands reached down to stroke my hair, only giving me memories of William; when he would do that to me every time during a horror movie, when I’d hide my face in his chest, or in the garden, when I’d lie on my back with my eyes shut, to feel the sun on my face, secretly wishing he’d bend down and kiss me.
I sit up and hug her, my sobs coming back to their sudden life, and she held me, just like any mother would do, whispering me soothing words, her hand never leaving my hair. I can tell she’s holding in her own tears, her body tensing only a bit as I cried on her shoulder. And as the hours passed, when she didn’t move, I wondered how selfish I was, when I wanted to leave and forget her completely.
The days passed slowly, every second sinking into me as tears. I was glad that school ended only a week after I sneaked out to the party, not having to worry about much except taking one or two final exams that they’ll give me a couple of months to get ready for. I’d lay awake at night, every faded step or crack making me jerk up, in hope that William would be there, ready to retrieve me. But that never happened.
It took a couple of weeks for me to finally realize that I had to be strong for my family, knowing they were only suffering with me, with no clue on to why I was grieving. So I stopped my grieving, but only when my family was with me - only smiling when they expected me to, only speaking the answers they hoped to get back. Whether I liked it or not; I was the puppet; reality ruled my strings.
It’s been four weeks since my miraculous return, and it’s been a week that I’ve been pretending to be happy; back to myself. Katherine came by to visit almost every other day, and not once did she ask me what happened, knowing that I’d talk about it when I wanted to - which would be never. When she invited me to a summer sleepover, my mom encouraged me to go. I complied, knowing that this would be a sign that I was recuperating - for her anyway. Plus, how bad can a sleepover be? It wasn’t until I arrived at Katherine’s house that I realized this wasn’t going to be an all girls sleepover.
"No going overboard this time," she promised when she saw my puzzlement. Well, not everyone can keep a promise.
Music, drinks, - less than how many they had at the party, though - loud jokes that made no sense at all, and then came the game spin the bottle, a game I’ve been able to avoid since I was a little girl. But that was when nobody knew me. Now everyone here recognized me as the girl who disappeared for more than three weeks. They all insisted, I join the game, and Katherine only made things harder when she took my hand and led me to the circle of people.
"The suspense will get your mind off of anything that’s bothering you," she says. For some reason, hearing that something can calm me makes me more willing to do it.
The very thought of complying makes me feel sick, and I pull my hand away from her.
I must have given her a terrifying look because her eyes suddenly turned soft. "You don’t have to play then," she says. "Just come watch, okay?" I hesitantly take a seat by her. She goes first and spins the bottle.
I’m nervous for her, wondering how she can be so calm and excited. What if it was a girl? Or the guy she’s secretly hated since kindergarten? And as if it was just her luck, the tip of the bottle lands on a guy she’s mentioned before, someone who was on her list of good-looking guys. I simply have to look away when they kiss, but I hear the circle go into a cheer and laughs, knowing that their kiss was longer than intended.
Then I feel Katherine by my side again, a smile on her lips as she hands the bottle to the guy beside us.
I hate how everyone goes silent, waiting for the bottle to predict their future. It seems like hours, like time is slowing down just to kill you; make you wait. And then the bottle starts to slow down, slowly making its way back to me. I froze, and my shield of "feeling just fine" tumbles down. I turn to see the one who spun the bottle and recognize him this time as, yet another guy from Katherine’s good looking guy list. Yes, I remember him, a cocky arrogant jerk, to me. He’s grinning, only making my conclusion true.
Before I could even remember why I’m staring at him, he’s already leaning in, his eyes staring at my lips. I can only freeze. I try to make my limbs move; make my brain to connect with my movements again. Suddenly his hands grab my neck and he pulls me in, making me yelp in surprise.
Everyone laughs and cheers as he forces his lips onto mine, ignoring my desire to pull away. And then I find myself struggling, yelling, demanding him to stop, and he does, shocked by my response and my desperation.
The circle stares at me, some whispering, and some still laughing quietly. Withholding my tears, I get to my feet and storm out of the room - ignoring Katherine’s calls, out of the house. He was a jerk, I kept telling myself. But all I could think about was the betrayal I felt, a betrayal I did, to William. Why didn’t I move? Because I thought one kiss was going to make me feel a bit better like Katherine had said? How would I feel if William kissed someone else? The thought made me feel woozy and sick.
I walked down the almost deserted street, ignoring my shivers, trying to unsuccessfully hold in my sobs. My feet failed me, and soon, I was sitting on the sidewalk, holding my shuddering myself, trying to make myself stop. I couldn’t.
I glance around, hoping no one is watching me ready to call the police, only so they can ask more questions. But someone is. The figure quickly slides behind a tree when it sees me, and I quickly get to my feet.
All I could think of is William, thinking maybe he’s considering on coming back early, but is seeing how I’m functioning first; seeing if I’m enjoying myself like he said I should. I rush to the tree where I last saw the figure, but once I arrive, no one’s there.
And again, I’m overwhelmed with grief.
I was thankful Katherine’s house wasn’t far from mine, and after years of being her friend, I knew how to not get lost. I slowly made my way up my tree, not wanting to wake up my parents now, knowing they’d only get more worried than they already were.
I remembered having that nightmare where William scaled this very tree, and the thought slowly drained me again. I also remember climbing this tree with him; one of our last moments together.
The worst part when I made it to my window was when I couldn’t open it. They locked it. After my disappearance, my parents made sure to lock every single thing that could be opened in this house.
I slammed my fist onto the tree with a whimper, but somehow the force caused the branch I was stepping on to crack, and I fall to the ground with a yelp. When I reach the ground, my hands slamming against it, I feel the excruciating pain travel up my arm, and I know I’ve broken it. But even though I’m yelling in pain, only a squeak comes out from my mouth, and I can’t speak, because it felt like the air slowly sucked its way out of me.
Catching my breath seems like the most impossible thing at the moment. I hear a ringing in my ears, and I can’t even hear the nearest cricket I heard only seconds ago. My eyes are wide open, though, and I do see the figure hurry its way to my side. When one of its hands reaches my shoulder while the other is placed on my back, I only let out another squeak of pain.
And then I feel it, the familiar rush of the pain being pulled away from me; the feeling that made me feel like falling asleep as if William’s hand was on my head; the feeling that was able to take away - just for a second - the tormenting anguish I’ve felt all these weeks.
And once I could move, as soon as I could breathe, I clutched one of these hands, not letting Demitri leave me. I jerk up and wrap my arms around him in a tight grip that made sure it was impossible for him to pull away. I didn’t care that he was tense, I didn’t care if he couldn’t breathe; I only cared that I was hugging one of William’s closest things that I knew he held dear to his heart. When he realizes I won’t let go, he hesitantly hugs me back, and the next thing I know, I’m back to sobbing. He tries to soothe me with some words that I can hardly hear; but they probably mean nothing. I just never want to let go, knowing that this was my proof; that it was all real.
"Take me to him," I begged.
I feel him tense even more; he takes a while to answer. "I can’t."
When he says that it only causes another whimper in my throat. "Why?"
"It’ll only put you in danger. The sovereign - he knows you’re gone. He’s looking for you. He’ll…"
He trails off, and I know he’s choosing his words carefully. I knew he didn’t expect to ever talk to me, and I was glad that I fell off my tree.
"He’s ok, right?" Demitri knew who I was talking about.
"Yes," he answers. I’m relieved, but I can’t stop crying.
"What’s going on with you guys? What’s the plan?"
"Someone’s coming," he whispers, and just like that, he has to pull my arms away from him, giving me a look of sympathy, and he vanishes, right before my parents find my sobbing self under the tree.
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- Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Twenty Three
- Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Twenty One
- Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Nineteen
- Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Eighteen
- Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Seventeen
- Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Sixteen
- Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Fifteen
- Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Fourteen


