Part II. Here is the happy ending I promised you.

Writing this made me even more sad, though it is happy. I don't know, writing does this to people.

Enjooy and please reivew!

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A knocking echoes throughtout the room, startling me from my sleep. I rub the drowsiness from my eyes and shuffle towards the door.

"Package for you, miss," states a stout man in his forties when I swing open the door.

"Thank you," I reply, taking the heavy brown box from him. He nods and leaves with a smug smile on his face.

I return to my eariler perch beside the window and examine the box. There is no address or name of the sender except for my name and address in bold letters. I tear off the wrapping and slide open the box inside. A thick book lies within the box as if it were in a coffin; a snug fit. I pull it out and read the title in large elegant letters: A New Dawn. I instantly turn my gaze to the floor where I had mercilessly flung the same book before. The mess is not there.

A million thoughts run through my mind, and I cannot decide which one I believe most. I am so wrapped up in my thoughts I do not notice my hold on the box weakening. With a crisp thud, the box falls to the floor, and a hastily ripped piece of paper rolls out from one of the corners. I pick it up, flipping it this way and that until I see tiny ink scratches on one side. Squinting, as well as holding it close to my eyes, I can barely decipher: Have faith.

I look towards the window bemusedly. There is something about this mystery that seems so familiar, yet the familiarity frightens me. I wish to unravel this puzzle, but what would I see after it is laid out flat before me? Dissapointment? More pain to my heart?

I cough at the lump forming in my throat and place my head against the window pane. Though I am sick to the heart, I lift up the book and note close to my chest. Perhaps there is a hint of truth in the note and the story of a happy couple I hold.

The bustling street below seperates my thoughts for a moment. A streak of undeniable red and brown flits through the crowd, immediately catching my attention. I rise in hope and for a better view, heart racing. With shaking fingers, I unlatch the window and just about fling myself out. I bite my lip, eyes searching through the crowd. The red stands out clearly in the throng, and it disappears just as quickly as I spot it. My heart sinks. Be strong. Go. Hurry.

I stumble out the door and out into the street, nearly colliding with cart being pushed by an annoyed farmer. I mumble my apologies, not meaning a bit of it. My eyes are busy running over tall hats, bald heads, bright blonde and subtle brunette. I begin pushing my way between the warm bodies, soon regretting my decision as I almost get run over by a man taller than I by perhaps two heads. I utter an oath and tumble out of the way, just as I spot a flash of red cloth. I stand helplessly in the middle of this horrid crowd, watching the cloth weave in and out between bodies.

With a massive shove, I push through the ocean of people, gaining speed as if my life depended on it. Truth be told, my life does depend on this mission. I must succeed. Failing isn't an option; it never was for me.

Though the speed of my travelling is improving, it seems as if the closer I get, the farther the red becomes. It suddenly disappears, and my heart drops to my feet like a bird successfully shot. I wait, but the cloth does not appear again. Many people begin pushing me out of the way, but I couldn't care less. Like a bag of potatoes, I let myself be tossed and shoved, but nothing could be worse than what I am feeling inside.

I make no move to remove myself from the mob, instead I collapse before them: a lost little girl once again. Failure. Failure.

Shouting and gossip rushes past, keeping pace with the life of their owners. There seems no sense to move on anymore. Why would there be anyway? I have lost a battle that would have tasted so sweet if I won. Shall I always be that odd one who cannot grow up?

I do not know how long I sit here; it seems like years. I don't care that the passing people cast dissapproving glances at my forlorn figure; they can think all they want, for I don't mind anymore. A tall slender shadow towers over my own, but I do not look up. Leave me alone.

"Excuse me, miss," it says. "I believe you dropped this."

I turn my face up warily. A man stands before me, his dark clothing hiding all visible patches of skin, set with a wide-brimmed hat that covers his eyes. He holds out a gloved hand; I do not take it. But I do stand up, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir," I say. "I do not believe I have dropped anything."

His hand snakes around my wrist, and the other to the small of my back. He drags me swiftly towards an empty alley, and panic is rising up my throat. I kick hard at his legs and try to shove him away with my free hand. He flinches in pain at my stuggling, but his hold tightens on my wrist. I open my mouth desperately to scream, but the hand at my back leaves its spot and smothers my shriek.

He leads me deep within the dark alley. Our footsteps resound on the stone like raindrops on a roof, each step leading me towards a fate I cannot quite name yet. The immense lack of voices tell me there is no one here, and the panic rises in me again. The man stops short, also pulling me into a halt. He releases me in one smooth movement, and I stumble away from him in a rush, my legs weak from fear.

"What do you want?" I whisper. My voice bounces off the walls around us, taunting me with laughs and hand-pointing.

He removes his hat, and hundreds of dark curls fall around his face. Time seems to stop right then and there, as if his hat demands it. My heart races; his eyes look into mine in such a way -

"You look like you have seen a ghost." He smiles.

I fall back, my head meeting with the brick behind me in a brisk thud. The silence becomes suffocating, and I wish for a breath of whisper to reach my tender ears. I count the seconds that pass by, the same way I count his eyelashes now. One, two, three, four ..

A sudden cry of a crow makes me jump. I instinctively look up, catching sight of a black figure floating away: Satan's devil itself.

He clears his throat uneasily. I run my eyes over him, deciding whether or not to believe this dream. A bit of red cloth peeks out from under his jacket: the bandana.

He advances towards me, his steps as uncertain as the feeling in my chest. Will the little bird awake?

We stand face to face, his eyelashes lowering to meet my gaze. My hands shake as I reach out to his perfect face. He leans forward to meet my touch, those high cheekbones hitting my cold fingers. I stroke his face hesitantly, my pulse quickening, pumping an uneven rhythm: Is he real? Is he real? Is he real?

I open my mouth to talk, but silence rushes out, hushing my words. My throat contracts as I swallow the silence in one gulp. "Are you really here?" I manage to croak. Tears sting my eyes as I wait for the answer which will decide my life.

He lowers his head beside mine, dark curls covering those brown, brown eyes. "Do you think so?" he murmers into my ear.

"I don't know," I reply. I am afraid to believe so.

Cold lips travel up my neck, sending chills down my spine. His hands wrap around me, pulling me close to him. I can feel the thud of his heart, so sure and alive - so different from my own. His lips float down, as if from heaven, and land purposely on mine. My whole body lights on fire, and I feel the bird in my chest twitch and burst into life.

I pull away slightly, enough to murmer, "I change my mind."

He closes his eyes. "Oh?"

I lift my hand to his eyelids, gracing them each with my finger tips. "You are real." You are mine.

His lips are on mine once again. We do not need to say more; the passion in our kissing is enough.

I feel his heart beat racing along with my own: a perfect rhythm. I want you. I need you. Don't ever leave me.

We break away, our breaths shallow. Our foreheads touch, and our eyes are glued together in a gaze that no one can define. What has brought us together at last?

His lips curl up in a smile. He holds me tighter to him, and I feel as if we were meant to be together. As if this was our - "Destiny," he says simply.

"Destiny," I repeat. Dear destiny.

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Erghh. I'm finally done! Yay me.

PLEASE review! I'd be really happy if you did. (: