~Chapter One
Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything that I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold onto
.
Michael awoke straight up in bed with the sun shining bright prisms through the cracks in the curtains. Just like that raw morning a month ago. Only now he awoke in his own room in his own apartment, haunted still with images from his dream of what had happened then. He relived it often in his dreams. He just could not escape that. He went about quietly grief stricken. No one could understand. Only one, maybe only one, shared his grief. Yet he couldn't be near Victoria. Not now. Too much had happened for them to be near to one another now.
Victoria did awaken those weeks ago, in that bright morning, healed, as his visitor said she would. Michael told her about him, but she didn't seem altogether surprised. Something else she knew that he didn't. He left her that day and hadn't seen her but once, since. Michael couldn't abide being in her presence. It hurt too much. Her betrayal and his loss was made painfully more raw a hundred times over if he was near her.
And so with nothing more to say, he left, and she knew it. He just walked away and didn't look back. He buried his grief with Maria. They were back together - if ever they were apart, it didn't seem so, though. Maria didn't mention Victoria or bring up painful questions or demands. She accepted him, it seemed, without question to the past, as though it had never happened. With her, he could pretend it had never happened. It was like Victoria and all of the horror and grief and confusion of the past seven months had never occurred - for any of them.
That one time since, that Michael had seen Victoria, was about a week or so later after it all happened, and Michael had gone back up to Las Cruces to the fallen Winthrop Mansion, to judge for himself that the nightmare was all over. And it was, he saw, as he glimpsed the destroyed ruins of a once great estate, except for the nightmares that haunted his soul. At night he could not escape them, therefore he tried to sleep as little as possible.
The mansion was a massive mess of charred remains, a skeleton of the non- distant past. And there he had glimpsed Victoria. At first he thought he had imagined it, but no, she was there, standing amidst the ruins, half- hidden behind the remains of one of the once gleaming pillars. She looked up at him, like a ghost of yesterday, ashes dancing about her in the breeze. The sensation was too acute. Michael couldn't remain there. He turned and left her to her haunting grounds.
+ + +
Victoria had hitchhiked back up to Las Cruces that morning after Michael had left her. She didn't leave her grief behind in Roswell though, because it remained within her always, haunting her from within. After she'd taken that bullet meant for Michael, she didn't altogether remember all that much of the rest of the day and the night and the early morning hours following as she was dying and as her daughter died. She remembered the pain and blood and - - Michael, Michael trying to help her, Michael staying with her while she suffered.
Perhaps the image that haunted her most, was when she had failed to keep her baby safe within her body - when she'd lost her and Michael was holding that tiny little perfect being in his bloody hands, a look of such anguish on his beautiful face, and she was too weak to move and hold her or reach out to Michael. She had felt her life slipping away, yet it hadn't, for she was here. Unfortunately she was left behind, to endure her misery because Saelar, Michael had told her, had healed her.
Victoria had slept at night near the ruins of the Winthrop mansion. She didn't know anywhere else to go. During the daylight hours that first few days, cops and federal agents had swarmed the place, looking for clues - not really finding any, but satisfying themselves it seemed, to say that Adam Winthrop and others had perished in the explosions and resulting fire that wracked the estate to its foundation and destroyed all.
They'd all left and Victoria alone had remained, walking the grounds like a ghost. Adam Winthrop had not been loving or anything good, but her life with him had been all she'd ever known, so she stayed around, like a creature confined all it's life and suddenly one day let free, but not knowing what freedom was, instead hovering about it's old cage in confusion.
That time she saw Michael there, she thought she'd been hallucinating. She thought that she'd longed for his presence so much that she'd imagined him being there. She'd felt his presence all around so she looked up and she found him standing there in the distance, feeling his presence surrounding her, but feeling it fleeting and not touching her. She had watched him a little while before he'd seen her. After a long moment, he was gone. He had just turned his back and left.
As he drove away, Victoria broke down to the ground, crying all the tears that she tried to keep inside. "Michael", she said over and over again with only the wind to hear her, carrying his name on its wings into nowhere.
She grieved for her daughter that she'd only too briefly known existed, Saelar having told her the day before chaos had ensued. She grieved for Michael whom she wanted to comfort, whom she loved, whom she knew was the mate of her soul and who was also. the man who hated her now. Maybe with as much passion as he had once loved her, if ever he had.
Victoria had left the Winthrop ruins that day, walking out past the gate and never once looking back. She'd strayed between Las Cruces and Roswell, since then, staying anywhere in the open she could- penniless, homeless, having lost everything she'd ever known and everything she cared about.
One of the infrequent rainstorms hit Roswell one night and while she stood in it, she remembered a poem she had written once, before she'd known who her true love was. A bit of it went, like,
the rain sounds within me
could it take all my pain
. wash it away
let me drown in this longing
let me suffer the fires of hell
let me die a thousand deaths
but give me one more moment to live in
one glimpse of his face
and I will pay any price
When Victoria looked up at the night sky, the rain blinding her, she remembered more,
i feel near to you
when i look at the same sky
knowing, hoping, believing
you're under the same sky
i'd give up forever
for one more moment in time
Rain falling all around, the world was gray, she was lost- like her tears in the rain, while knowing-
She *would* give up forever for . . .
One More Moment in Time.
~End of Chapter One~
Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything that I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold onto
.
Michael awoke straight up in bed with the sun shining bright prisms through the cracks in the curtains. Just like that raw morning a month ago. Only now he awoke in his own room in his own apartment, haunted still with images from his dream of what had happened then. He relived it often in his dreams. He just could not escape that. He went about quietly grief stricken. No one could understand. Only one, maybe only one, shared his grief. Yet he couldn't be near Victoria. Not now. Too much had happened for them to be near to one another now.
Victoria did awaken those weeks ago, in that bright morning, healed, as his visitor said she would. Michael told her about him, but she didn't seem altogether surprised. Something else she knew that he didn't. He left her that day and hadn't seen her but once, since. Michael couldn't abide being in her presence. It hurt too much. Her betrayal and his loss was made painfully more raw a hundred times over if he was near her.
And so with nothing more to say, he left, and she knew it. He just walked away and didn't look back. He buried his grief with Maria. They were back together - if ever they were apart, it didn't seem so, though. Maria didn't mention Victoria or bring up painful questions or demands. She accepted him, it seemed, without question to the past, as though it had never happened. With her, he could pretend it had never happened. It was like Victoria and all of the horror and grief and confusion of the past seven months had never occurred - for any of them.
That one time since, that Michael had seen Victoria, was about a week or so later after it all happened, and Michael had gone back up to Las Cruces to the fallen Winthrop Mansion, to judge for himself that the nightmare was all over. And it was, he saw, as he glimpsed the destroyed ruins of a once great estate, except for the nightmares that haunted his soul. At night he could not escape them, therefore he tried to sleep as little as possible.
The mansion was a massive mess of charred remains, a skeleton of the non- distant past. And there he had glimpsed Victoria. At first he thought he had imagined it, but no, she was there, standing amidst the ruins, half- hidden behind the remains of one of the once gleaming pillars. She looked up at him, like a ghost of yesterday, ashes dancing about her in the breeze. The sensation was too acute. Michael couldn't remain there. He turned and left her to her haunting grounds.
+ + +
Victoria had hitchhiked back up to Las Cruces that morning after Michael had left her. She didn't leave her grief behind in Roswell though, because it remained within her always, haunting her from within. After she'd taken that bullet meant for Michael, she didn't altogether remember all that much of the rest of the day and the night and the early morning hours following as she was dying and as her daughter died. She remembered the pain and blood and - - Michael, Michael trying to help her, Michael staying with her while she suffered.
Perhaps the image that haunted her most, was when she had failed to keep her baby safe within her body - when she'd lost her and Michael was holding that tiny little perfect being in his bloody hands, a look of such anguish on his beautiful face, and she was too weak to move and hold her or reach out to Michael. She had felt her life slipping away, yet it hadn't, for she was here. Unfortunately she was left behind, to endure her misery because Saelar, Michael had told her, had healed her.
Victoria had slept at night near the ruins of the Winthrop mansion. She didn't know anywhere else to go. During the daylight hours that first few days, cops and federal agents had swarmed the place, looking for clues - not really finding any, but satisfying themselves it seemed, to say that Adam Winthrop and others had perished in the explosions and resulting fire that wracked the estate to its foundation and destroyed all.
They'd all left and Victoria alone had remained, walking the grounds like a ghost. Adam Winthrop had not been loving or anything good, but her life with him had been all she'd ever known, so she stayed around, like a creature confined all it's life and suddenly one day let free, but not knowing what freedom was, instead hovering about it's old cage in confusion.
That time she saw Michael there, she thought she'd been hallucinating. She thought that she'd longed for his presence so much that she'd imagined him being there. She'd felt his presence all around so she looked up and she found him standing there in the distance, feeling his presence surrounding her, but feeling it fleeting and not touching her. She had watched him a little while before he'd seen her. After a long moment, he was gone. He had just turned his back and left.
As he drove away, Victoria broke down to the ground, crying all the tears that she tried to keep inside. "Michael", she said over and over again with only the wind to hear her, carrying his name on its wings into nowhere.
She grieved for her daughter that she'd only too briefly known existed, Saelar having told her the day before chaos had ensued. She grieved for Michael whom she wanted to comfort, whom she loved, whom she knew was the mate of her soul and who was also. the man who hated her now. Maybe with as much passion as he had once loved her, if ever he had.
Victoria had left the Winthrop ruins that day, walking out past the gate and never once looking back. She'd strayed between Las Cruces and Roswell, since then, staying anywhere in the open she could- penniless, homeless, having lost everything she'd ever known and everything she cared about.
One of the infrequent rainstorms hit Roswell one night and while she stood in it, she remembered a poem she had written once, before she'd known who her true love was. A bit of it went, like,
the rain sounds within me
could it take all my pain
. wash it away
let me drown in this longing
let me suffer the fires of hell
let me die a thousand deaths
but give me one more moment to live in
one glimpse of his face
and I will pay any price
When Victoria looked up at the night sky, the rain blinding her, she remembered more,
i feel near to you
when i look at the same sky
knowing, hoping, believing
you're under the same sky
i'd give up forever
for one more moment in time
Rain falling all around, the world was gray, she was lost- like her tears in the rain, while knowing-
She *would* give up forever for . . .
One More Moment in Time.
~End of Chapter One~