Web of Dreams and Despair
I watch the bleak gray winter sky turn dark, blue-black clouds starkly standing out like bruises. I suddenly feel something icy fall on my cheek and realize with mild surprise that it has begun to snow. The pearly snowflakes like scattered diamonds adorn the fresh ground. Fog like some sort of ghost has settled around the graveyard. It is nearly time to leave but my feet are frozen to the ground and my eyes gray and cold like the gravestone feel wet. Agony and fear crawls back into my mind like venomous snakes at the thought of going back to the institute. I resist the small part of me that craves to set eyes on him again, to beg him to forgive me though I know only too well that it would all be a vain attempt. Helplessly I travel back in time, like I have often these past months, reliving those wonderful and joyous days when my only love belonged to me.
"He has changed Tessa" Charlotte use to say, "and it is all thanks to you".
That was right, ever since he had opened up and invited me in with open arms, those deep and intense bottle blue eyes blissful, I felt as a part of him. Little did I realize I would be severed from him in the most vicious manner. Saying we were happy was not near close to the kind of joy we felt when we were together. A small laugh escapes my throat as I remember his slyness. He would suddenly from behind a pillar, pull me in for a wanton kiss taking me completely by surprise. Caressing my neck when Charlotte had her back to me while complaining about Henry's useless devices; pressing bracelets of flowers into my hand while Jessamine ranted on about the bland food, and those childish games of hide and seek in the garden, now all of it seems so far away almost like a dream that was never reality.
"Tess" he used to say while carelessly smoothing my hair "tell me something. Read to me, I want to listen to your voice."
He would pull me close to his chest and envelope his strong arms around me as I recited some old sonnet or indulged him with stories of my life back in New York. He had the rude habit of interrupting me and he enjoyed it tremendously knowing well how it got on my nerves. We spent most of our time in the library or on the roof where no one would bother us. Other times he would lie down with his hands behind his head while I knelt beside him listening to his plans for our future together. I was young then, so very young and naïve, only a sixteen year old girl whose life had been altered by one boy. It was as if everything I had learnt, done and experienced was merely preparation for him, to be right for him.
As time passed, I even began to be glad for who I was. The fact that I was some devilish, sterile warlock with no real identity had been replaced by a woman who was cherished so very much. I had known it, had an inkling at the very least that all this happiness would end, as though something so wonderful was only meant to be felt for a short while and then snatched away mercilessly, abandoning me feeling empty and hollow like a carcass.
"How is it my fault?" I scream to myself. I hadn't been aware of what I was doing much like a blind man isn't aware of what he is seeing. I had been under some sort of ugly spell when Mortmain and I had exchanged improper intimacies. My stomach clenches and I avert my eyes from the tiny grave. Why would I have wanted to sleep with a man of such a twisted nature and had caused me so much misery. Yet, guilt pierced my cold heart. I shut my eyes and ears trying to block out the terrible things echoing in my ears that Will had shouted when he had found out. His cruel words had been like burning flames rotting me from the inside.
It is getting colder now but I welcome the weather. For the past few months I have come here everyday sitting by my dead baby's grave and staring up at the unyielding sky trying not to cry. I sorrowfully think about my premature dead baby, the result of that horrible experience that snatched away from me the one man I would always love. For a moment I wonder if I could stop caring for him and begin a fresh life but I disperse the thought. I can't help loving him just like I can't help breathing. Taking a deep breath I stand up trying to gather my feelings and appear as indifferent as possible. It is later than usual today as I drag my resisting feet towards the institute.
I walk along the dark passageway when I hear giggling. It is Jessamine's husky voice. I begin to feel sweaty and sick and sag against the stone pillar for support. I do not wish to see what is happening but I stay. I feel like a glutton for punishment. Through the harsh light of the moon I see her by the window. Her long and luscious blonde hair is like halo around her head, her bright cornflower blue eyes glittering in glee and her long elegant fingers entwined with his. He is kissing her passionately and possessively as she smoothes back his raven black tempest of hair. He whispers something in her ear and she pouts angrily; soon enough they start arguing like they always had, only this time I notice the affection in both their tones. I stand there my eyes burning like hot coals had lodged in them. They are too entranced by each other to notice me. I turn and walk back out embracing the cold slap of wind. I am still young at seventeen though I have grown a lot older in my mind. I feel like a woman who has experienced enough of life and awaits her death. I turn back and take one last look at the large, looming institute, hoping that even if I had ceased to exist to him, the memories he has of me remain. I sense him watching me with sadness but I also know that he is not mine anymore. He doesn't care enough. After all, I am but only a devilish, sterile warlock who has no identity of her own.