Summary: This story takes place ten years into the future. The girls have grown up and married, hoping to live happily ever after. But sadly, as reality tells us, there is never a happily ever after. Now the girls must live without a husband and an unborn child. Can they deal with this and still find true happiness? Or is their world forever lost in darkness?
PS: This is for my good friends, Cassidy the Water Sage, Cassidy Herrera, DREAMCOLE, and mizunderstood247.
Disclaimer: I do not own W.I.T.C.H., nor do I own the children to be born or the boys Cole or Edward. Cole belongs to DREAMCOLE. W.I.T.C.H. and party belong to Disney. The boys (minus Cole) belong to Cassidy the Water Sage, and what I mean by it is that I'm too lazy to create my own characters, so CS (Cassidy the Water Sage) let me borrow them. They're in her story A Forgotten Past. However, Edward is totally her character, so if you even think of using him, ask her.
Chapter 10: Is there any hope?
"It'll be good for you, I promise," Peter proposed as he steered the car through the tangling roads and intersections.
"Yeah, I'm sure," Taranee said half-heartedly, rubbing her belly.
Peter sighed, but saw nothing he could do to help.
Suddenly, he stopped adruptly at a building with a huge smile on his face. "I know this will put a smile on the glum face."
Taranee glanced over his shoulder and followed his gaze to the building.
One word stood out.
Dance.
Taranee's heart leaped into her throat, and she found it difficult to swallow.
This was her old dance academy, a place she went to after school sometimes.
Taranee opened the car door, and in a trance like way, walked over to the building. She looked up at it, her heart fluttering with the sweet memories.
The good times, the bad times, it all came back in a whirlwind of emotions.
But in a good way.
Peter got out and examined the building. Then his eyes caught something he hadn't noticed before.
A large sign that claimed in big bold letters, CLOSED.
Peter frowned, then glanced at his sister.
She hadn't noticed the sign, still gushing over the fond memories.
"Uh . . . Taranee?" Peter began, reaching for his sister's shoulder.
The pregnant woman whirled around, beaming at the sight. "Peter, this is my old dance school. How'd you know it would make me feel better?"
"Well, it was a wild guess . . . I had other places in mind if this didn't work." The brother shook his head in frustration and continued, "But that's the point, T. This place, well, it's closed."
Taranee's jovial expression was suddenly washed away by the flood of reality.
"But—" She turned back to the building. Then she finally noticed the sign.
"Taranee," Peter said gently, touching her shoulder.
Taranee's shoulders shook a bit, but she forced herself to look Peter in the eye with a forced, but weak smile. "I'm fine. I just need some time alone."
Peter took a step back, almost as if he had been slapped. Then he gathered himself up and smiled back. "Okay, I'll leave you to your memories."
Taranee waved as Peter got back into the car and drove off into the distance.
Then she looked back up at the building. Slowly she allowed her fingers to touch its rough surface.
How many times has she come here to let out her anger, her frustration, or her sadness?
"Nice place, huh?" a gentle voice asked.
Taranee turned looked over her shoulder, then gaped.
Standing before her was the most handsome man on the face of the planet. No, the entire universe.
The man standing there was taller than Taranee, with large muscles, round cheeks, and chocolate skin. His tight curls stuck to his head like glue, and his bark colored eyes glittered happily at her.
Taranee felt the baby inside her leap.
She hesitantly put a hand over her swollen stomach, and blushed in embarrassment. "Y-yeah, nice place. Although it sure doesn't beat the old." Her eyes glanced over at the original dance school.
The man laughed, and boy what a laugh it was! Taranee almost wanted to laugh herself. "Yes, when you have something good, you generally don't want to replace it with something new."
He gestured to the new school with a purely white smile and said, "This school is like a new age, and the closed down one is the old age. Some people just don't like the same old same old, while others don't like change. Neither are a crime, it's just how some people run. I personally like the same old same old."
Taranee smiled weakly at the man's words and replied, "Yeah, but the soul of the teaching is the same." Taranee traced her fingers over the old, rough surface, savoring the feeling it gave her. "I just can't feel the same energy the other school gives off that this one used to give."
The man nodded, his once cheerful face now serious and grim. "I can relate." He placed his hand against the wall of the old dance school, gently rubbing its surface. "Dancing is something that can't just be taught. It has to be felt, too." He gestured toward the sun, smiling up at its burning surface. "Dancing is like fire, a burning passion that sends sensations boiling through your gut, giving life to your limb body and making it move. Fire in itself represents passion and strong will, like what dancing bases off of. The Olympics uses a torch as the represent of the pure determination and skill each athlete brings to the table."
He then turned around, still smiling. "Things like passion and determination can't be taught. You can learn how to use them, and how to control them, but you can't be taught how to feel them. They just come. Like dancing."
Then he was gone.
Taranee's heart was thudding against her chest, and it seemed her baby gave another leap.
Wow, who was that hunk?
In a garden:
Cornelia stared up at where her friend Elyon's old house once stood. Actually, it was no longer there, and was now replaced with a beautiful garden.
Strolling through, she barely took notice of the gardener kneeing over, gently tending the flowers.
Bright, cheerful yellow flowers greeted her, decorating the garden floor, their rich leaf greens and brightly colored petals declaring to the world their beauty.
Cornelia smiled fondly at the flowers. Not too long ago, she had been just like that. Bright, colorful, cheerful. And most of all, beautiful.
But that had all changed.
Cornelia's once golden locks now draped over her face, dirty and dull.
Her bright, light blue eyes were dim in the light, almost appearing gray, with heavy bags under them, destroying any appeal left in them.
Her rich, sweet smile gone, frown lines visible around her lips' corner.
Suddenly, a wilted, dead flower caught her attention.
Blinking away the tears, Cornelia silently grieved for what was happening. Her life, like this flower, had drained away, leaving only an empty, cold shell in its place.
All these flowers are so beautiful and healthy, Cornelia thought. Like everyone in Heatherfield. Not a care in the world. But me, I'm like this lifeless flower. I have nothing. No beauty, no life, nothing.
"It's a shame that such a beautiful flower just wilted away like that," a voice commented solemnly. Cornelia whirled around to see the gardener walk over to her.
He was incredibly handsome, to say the least, with golden locks spiked upward and chocolate colored eyes.
Cornelia felt her skin shiver in excitement. She hadn't felt that since she first met Caleb.
The gardener leaned over to where the flower was and smiled tenderly at it. Gingerly, he scooped the flower up and stood up. He turned to face Cornelia, and a small, tender smile appeared on his handsome face.
"To some," he continued, "the flower may have given up. It has know pain and sorrow, and yet." He paused, taking a step closer to Cornelia. Cornelia's heart sped up, pounding fiercely against her chest.
"And yet, it will overcome this, and when it does," the gardener paused, taking Cornelia's hands into his own, "it will be more beautiful then all the other flowers."
He released her hands, and left. Cornelia suddenly realized she wasn't breathing, and she gasped for air. Once her strained lungs were satisfied, she looked down at her hands. She gave a little gasp.
The flower was no longer dead, but alive and bloomed. It's golden petals radiated the sun's light, casting out the other flowers as average.
Cornelia closed her eyes and held the flower close to her chest. Tears fell down her cheeks, but they were not tears of sorrow, but of joy. A smile crept on her face. How long ago was it when she had first felt alive?
She didn't remember, but she did know one thing.
She will overcome the pain and sorrow, just like this flower.
With Will:
Will stared out at the large body of water. A black darkness blanketed over the river, making the water appear dark and inky.
That's my life in a nut-shell, Will thought. Dark. Bleak future. Empty. A void.
"A depressing night, isn't it?" a voice asked.
Will whirled her head around and saw a man standing behind her. He had long dark brown and brown eyes.
"Er, yeah, I guess," Will stuttered. Who is this guy?
The man sat down next to her, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Kind of makes you feel all alone, huh?"
"Yeah," Will agreed, still shocked by the man's appearance. She shook her head and sighed, "It's kind of like my life. All alone, with no one there to be by your side and help you along. It's really depressing."
"Well," the man said, shifting his legs a bit and stretched them out, "To some, it may seem that way, but for those who know the darkness well know it has great beauties."
Will arched her eyebrows, but then at the very moment, little fireflies came out, flapping their wings and buzzing along. To make matters better, the clouds parted to reveal the glittering stars.
The man smiled and lifted a finger up. A firefly landed on it, glittering still. "There is a time when the emptiness of the darkness takes control, but waiting within that great darkness lies a great light, a light that can't be burned out."
Will blinked at his words and turned to face the water. Suddenly she gasped. The sun was slowly beginning to rise, shining on the river, red light dancing on its glossy surface.
"How'd you—" Will turned to face the stranger, but he was gone. Vanished.
Will blinked, rubbed her eyes, and blinked again.
Who was that guy?
I'd like to thank DREAMCOLE for help. And a big thank-you to my reviewers! Thanks for being patient with me!