The future is where we belong.
The past is gone.
The present has been exiled in a time loop.
And that is where I am.
~~~~~~~~
Past...present...future. I don't even know where I am anymore.
I just, exist.
I eat, drink, sleep but yet I'm not living.
I'm alive but at the same time, I'm dead. I breathe air—oxygen, so why do I feel like I'm suffocating?
Is anybody out there? If yes, save me...
.
.
.
.
Kiara was on the floor sleeping, dreaming about what the day would hold. Would the rising sun bring something new or would it be the usual; work, work, work?
You see the work was different for her. There were three things she did daily as a means of income;
Wash, clean, sleep.
Now the sleep ain't the same one y'all thinking.
Kiara yawned the third time in three minutes and sat up. She lived in a small town where farmers grew their food to eat and sold the rest. She was an orphan which means that she had no one to provide, but herself.
She was a fine beaut; five-foot-tall with eyes of an angel and the voice of a hummingbird.
She was beautiful and yet this beauty had only scars to remember her past, a past she'd buried with her family.
She got up—though it was a struggle seeing how she had to cross over multiple bodies huddled together on a single, less than the ideal bed, it was that or the cold hard floor outside. But she had no home of her own, so she couldn't complain.
"Kiara, you up? I need you to change my baby's diaper. Thanks, dearie, you're a darling."
Without giving her as much as a say in the matter, the brown-haired woman gave her the toddler to hold.
"Agnes darling, you'll make me late for work." Kiara cooed at the baby, holding her protectively in her arms. She looked after the baby like a sister and refused to acknowledge how much she looked like her own sister that had been just a baby herself when she lost her.
Quickly she changed Agnes diapers because she couldn't afford to be late. A second late was a penny removed from her daily wage. And she was barely surviving enough as it was. Food was a necessity and even that was getting scarcer by the day.
She washed up in the makeshift bathroom connected to the cottage, after fetching a pale of water by the watermill.
She got dressed in her worn-out ratty gown and headed out to the laundry house.
She had no money for a carriage, so she walked. She had no shoe or slipper either, so she walked barefoot.
She didn't think nor dwell on anything. She had nothing to dwell on, she had no past remember?
About ten yards to the laundry house, Kiara heard a woman's scream to her left. Without looking she knew what was about to happen or what was happening.
Kiara gulped, halting in her steps. She found herself glancing between the clear path in front of her and where the sound was coming from.
She didn't want to be late. Her food was on the line.
Yet she found herself turning, then running to the direction of the woman.
A man was hovering over her, trying to lift her gown up.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Kiara found herself screaming.
The man stopped at the sound of her voice.
"Run along girl. She owes me money. This is her way of paying me back." The man brought out a metal object from his pocket and her eyes widened to see a knife.
She froze.
"Run along now." He nodded with his head, indicating that he wanted her to leave.
"Please help me, don't leave me." The helpless woman begged.
Kiara jumped at the sound of the man's hand connecting harshly with the woman's face. The woman, whimpered keeping her mouth shut.
Kiara found herself taking a step back, then another before she was full-on running. She ran all the way to the laundry house.
Kiara met the bloated mass of the woman in charge and barely heard what she was saying—all she could hear and see was how the woman's clothes had been ripped off and how the man had already started unbuckling his slacks.
"You're thirty minutes late, that's a pound from your wage." Kiara wanted to protest that that was already a third of her income but she bit her tongue and held it in.
That was two days worth of meal, gone.
She had no excuse. She would have to starve again.
She worked for four hours at the laundry house and soon it was time to leave. She collected her wage of two pounds and quickly sped-walked to her next job. She couldn't afford any more cuts.
As rundown as the cottage back home was, they allowed you to pay your rent per night since they knew people around barely make enough to last more than a day. She couldn't afford to sleep out—it didn't go so well the last time she did.
Thankfully, she got hired to clean a few shops and was paid. Soon it was evening and she rounded up for the day.
After receiving her pay, quietly she made her way to the local inn. She was hungry.
If she was lucky, one of the men would buy her something to eat. But that rarely ever happened.
She greeted the 'mother' in charge and they ushered her to the back of the inn to the changing room. She took off her ratty clothes and wore one that was only slightly better.
They did her makeup and she was good to go. She looked at herself in the mirror. She saw the sorrow behind the glazed look in her green eyes. She was beautiful with long lashes and a full lip. Her eyes were the eyes of an angel but she was no angel. She hadn't been for a long time.
The drunk man who killed her family had stolen what part of her was pure.
Now she was fragmented, tasted by different men she was too weary to count.
She didn't know when a tear left her eye. She sniffed wiping the tears off. The tears were useless.
She stood up.
"Mother I'm ready."
The beautiful ample woman led her to a special place with the rest of the girls and they waited.
As the night went on, men came into the inn. They drank, ate, and had merry.
As always, she stopped thinking altogether and just acted. A group of men came into the inn. They were three—they seem to be celebrating.
What a fine place to commemorate a celebration.
One of them was being teased by the remaining two and he seemed to be the one celebrating something. They ordered their beers and they were served a pint each. While the other two drank theirs in one gulped the one in the middle was taking mouse sips of his drink.
Suddenly he looked up and their eyes met. She sat there frozen in time by his gaze. His eyes were wide too as they both stared at each other.
She quickly looked away having no idea what just happened.
She heard laughing and by the time she looked up, they were all looking in her direction, right at her, but the man whose eyes had met hers was looking down at his drink.
They called 'mother' over and Kiara clenched her hands. She knew what was coming next.
She didn't think, just sat there looking at nothing in particular. Soon she heard 'mother's' voice and she looked up. 'Mother' was with the third man. He could barely hold her gaze and she realized that he was the shy type.
'Mother' nodded at her and Kiara found herself grabbing the man's hand and leading him up the curved stairs. As loud as the music was, she could focus on nothing but her heartbeat—one heartbeat...two heartbeats...three heartbeats...
"What's your name?" She'd barely heard him speak, but she said nothing as she opened the door with her spare key. It was her 'room'.
They got in and she closed the door behind them.
"You have twenty minutes," Kiara said quietly, already taking off her gown. She heard a strangled sound behind her and when she turned back, the young man was averting his eyes and she could very well see the light blush dusting his cheeks.
"You don't have to do that."
"It's my job, it's what you asked for." He looked at her and just seemed to stare at her.
"It's what my friends asked for." he corrected.
She walked over to him pulling the hand of her gown down regardless.
His eyes were wide as she came to stand in front of him. Green eyes met an oceanic blue and she had to remind herself to focus on the matter at hand.
She began unbuttoning his clothes since he didn't want to do it, but his hand stopped hers.
He was much taller than her so she had to look up. She didn't understand.
"I only agreed with my friends because I wanted to see you and talk to you."
Kiara looked at him confused. Was he mad?
What kind of a man refuses a paid service?
She ripped her hands from his and sat him down on a nearby chair.
"Miss, wait—" But she was already on his lap.
She looked into his eyes and was peeved to see a strong determination there.
"I said I wanted to talk to you." he insisted quietly.
"We can talk after," she told him.
Her hand was on his body again.
"Stop," he said sternly and she got up in frustration.
"I don't get paid if you refuse. What kind of a man are you," she paused,
"Do you think this is what I want, you think I'm throwing myself at you because I want to?" She didn't know why or when but tears started falling down her cheeks.
He just stared at her shocked.
"People like you don't know what people like us have to go through. It's enjoyable for you but it's work for me. Don't you get it, I need this to survive." she cried. She sank to the floor, defeated.
She didn't ask for any of this. She didn't ask to be alive. She wished she'd been buried in her past because that was where she belonged.
She didn't belong in the present. At least she would be forgotten.
The man let her cry and when she was calm enough, he spoke,
"I understand more than you think." He said quietly. She sniffed looking up at him.
He was looking at her with eyes that were older than his age. It was then she realized that he understood her.
He stood up and crouched in front of her.
"When I saw you, I was awestruck, " he whispered.
"You seemed angelic, transcendent. You didn't belong in a place like this."
He reached out and wiped her tears.
"Why do you care?" she whispered. There was a glazed over look in his eyes before he looked at her. They were eyes of pain.
"You remind me of someone I used to know." He said quietly.
"Get up." He helped her up. Kiara looked into his eyes and she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time—a sense of worth.
"I'm nobody, you shouldn't care." She adjusted her gown. He smiled.
"I find myself doing just that."
"I have a farm, you could be one of my paid labour, if you want. I pay well and I feed my workers. And there's a free inn where you could stay. I know you don't trust me and honestly, you have no reason to but I'm being genuine." She didn't what came over her but she kissed him and continued until he stopped her. His eyes looked like a swirling storm with how it had darkened.
"I'm not getting paid but I want to." She said looking up at him. She wanted to kiss him again but he shook his head.
"Then let's do this the right way. Let me get to know you. What's your name?"
"Kiara." She said. He smiled. She realized that she liked his smile.
"I'm Peter."
"Come on." He took her by the hand and took her out of the room.
He took her home in his carriage. When he saw where she lived, he looked at her shocked. She averted her eyes but he seemed to have made up his mind about something.
"I'm coming to pick you up tomorrow. Is that okay?" She didn't know why maybe it was the concern in his voice or the passion with which he spoke but she said,
"Promise you'll come back for me." He held her gaze for a long time as if trying to remember every turn and curve of her face.
His gaze softened.
"I promise Kiara." Then he was gone.
But he didn't come back. She waited for him, but he never did.
She didn't know if it was possible to feel the way she did after it dawned on her that he was never coming back.
How could he do that, raise her hope then smash it to a million tiny pieces? Three months passed and things only seemed to get more unbearable.
She got home late after a long day. She took a shower, paid rent then bought a piece of stale bread with what was left.
She wolfed it down in one go and drank from the mill. It was her only meal of the day.
Little Agnes was crying her eyes out. She offered to take her. When she received the toddler— she weighed nothing. Kiara's eyes watered at the deteriorated state the baby was in. Pieces of hair were missing from her head, she had scabs and her stomach was over-bloated.
Kiara knew she didn't have long. She wept and cried her eyes out.
_Would there be no end to this suffering?_
She went to bed and she dreamt of her past and oceanic blue eyes.
_I promise Kiara_ he whispered.
She woke up with tears in her eyes. She had to find him. She asked around if anyone knew a man named Peter. She was relieved that everyone she met knew of him or something about him.
_He hadn't lied._
She walked till she was tired. His farm was in the town over.
She walked for a long time panting. Finally, she found the farmland—It was huge.
"He hadn't lied," she whispered again to herself. It meant more than she was willing to admit.
She crossed over the wooden bridge and made her way to the farmhouse.
Some labours were working on the farm while some were in the act of processing grain.
A woman that looked like an accountant was sitted in front of the house with her calculator.
Kiara approached her timidly.
"Good afternoon miss. I'm looking for Mr. Peter." The woman looked at her from the bridge of her nose and accessed her. Her beady eyes scanned over her ratty clothes and slipperless feet.
"And who might you be?" she snarked. She lowered her head.
"I'm an a—" What was she to him anyway?
"An acquaintance ma'am."
"Well acquaintance or not, he died some months back." Something hot flickered through her.
"W-What?" Her eyes were wide. The image of the oceanic eyes she so much adored stared back at her lovingly.
The woman stood up.
"He died in an ambush on his way back to town across. He said there was someone he needed to bring home. He was so happy that day, I couldn't understand what could have made him so happy." Kiara's stomach dipped as her legs gave way under her.
No, no, no, no.
The past is gone.
The present has been exiled in a time loop.
And that is where I am.
~~~~~~~~
Past...present...future. I don't even know where I am anymore.
I just, exist.
I eat, drink, sleep but yet I'm not living.
I'm alive but at the same time, I'm dead. I breathe air—oxygen, so why do I feel like I'm suffocating?
Is anybody out there? If yes, save me...
.
.
.
.
Kiara was on the floor sleeping, dreaming about what the day would hold. Would the rising sun bring something new or would it be the usual; work, work, work?
You see the work was different for her. There were three things she did daily as a means of income;
Wash, clean, sleep.
Now the sleep ain't the same one y'all thinking.
Kiara yawned the third time in three minutes and sat up. She lived in a small town where farmers grew their food to eat and sold the rest. She was an orphan which means that she had no one to provide, but herself.
She was a fine beaut; five-foot-tall with eyes of an angel and the voice of a hummingbird.
She was beautiful and yet this beauty had only scars to remember her past, a past she'd buried with her family.
She got up—though it was a struggle seeing how she had to cross over multiple bodies huddled together on a single, less than the ideal bed, it was that or the cold hard floor outside. But she had no home of her own, so she couldn't complain.
"Kiara, you up? I need you to change my baby's diaper. Thanks, dearie, you're a darling."
Without giving her as much as a say in the matter, the brown-haired woman gave her the toddler to hold.
"Agnes darling, you'll make me late for work." Kiara cooed at the baby, holding her protectively in her arms. She looked after the baby like a sister and refused to acknowledge how much she looked like her own sister that had been just a baby herself when she lost her.
Quickly she changed Agnes diapers because she couldn't afford to be late. A second late was a penny removed from her daily wage. And she was barely surviving enough as it was. Food was a necessity and even that was getting scarcer by the day.
She washed up in the makeshift bathroom connected to the cottage, after fetching a pale of water by the watermill.
She got dressed in her worn-out ratty gown and headed out to the laundry house.
She had no money for a carriage, so she walked. She had no shoe or slipper either, so she walked barefoot.
She didn't think nor dwell on anything. She had nothing to dwell on, she had no past remember?
About ten yards to the laundry house, Kiara heard a woman's scream to her left. Without looking she knew what was about to happen or what was happening.
Kiara gulped, halting in her steps. She found herself glancing between the clear path in front of her and where the sound was coming from.
She didn't want to be late. Her food was on the line.
Yet she found herself turning, then running to the direction of the woman.
A man was hovering over her, trying to lift her gown up.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Kiara found herself screaming.
The man stopped at the sound of her voice.
"Run along girl. She owes me money. This is her way of paying me back." The man brought out a metal object from his pocket and her eyes widened to see a knife.
She froze.
"Run along now." He nodded with his head, indicating that he wanted her to leave.
"Please help me, don't leave me." The helpless woman begged.
Kiara jumped at the sound of the man's hand connecting harshly with the woman's face. The woman, whimpered keeping her mouth shut.
Kiara found herself taking a step back, then another before she was full-on running. She ran all the way to the laundry house.
Kiara met the bloated mass of the woman in charge and barely heard what she was saying—all she could hear and see was how the woman's clothes had been ripped off and how the man had already started unbuckling his slacks.
"You're thirty minutes late, that's a pound from your wage." Kiara wanted to protest that that was already a third of her income but she bit her tongue and held it in.
That was two days worth of meal, gone.
She had no excuse. She would have to starve again.
She worked for four hours at the laundry house and soon it was time to leave. She collected her wage of two pounds and quickly sped-walked to her next job. She couldn't afford any more cuts.
As rundown as the cottage back home was, they allowed you to pay your rent per night since they knew people around barely make enough to last more than a day. She couldn't afford to sleep out—it didn't go so well the last time she did.
Thankfully, she got hired to clean a few shops and was paid. Soon it was evening and she rounded up for the day.
After receiving her pay, quietly she made her way to the local inn. She was hungry.
If she was lucky, one of the men would buy her something to eat. But that rarely ever happened.
She greeted the 'mother' in charge and they ushered her to the back of the inn to the changing room. She took off her ratty clothes and wore one that was only slightly better.
They did her makeup and she was good to go. She looked at herself in the mirror. She saw the sorrow behind the glazed look in her green eyes. She was beautiful with long lashes and a full lip. Her eyes were the eyes of an angel but she was no angel. She hadn't been for a long time.
The drunk man who killed her family had stolen what part of her was pure.
Now she was fragmented, tasted by different men she was too weary to count.
She didn't know when a tear left her eye. She sniffed wiping the tears off. The tears were useless.
She stood up.
"Mother I'm ready."
The beautiful ample woman led her to a special place with the rest of the girls and they waited.
As the night went on, men came into the inn. They drank, ate, and had merry.
As always, she stopped thinking altogether and just acted. A group of men came into the inn. They were three—they seem to be celebrating.
What a fine place to commemorate a celebration.
One of them was being teased by the remaining two and he seemed to be the one celebrating something. They ordered their beers and they were served a pint each. While the other two drank theirs in one gulped the one in the middle was taking mouse sips of his drink.
Suddenly he looked up and their eyes met. She sat there frozen in time by his gaze. His eyes were wide too as they both stared at each other.
She quickly looked away having no idea what just happened.
She heard laughing and by the time she looked up, they were all looking in her direction, right at her, but the man whose eyes had met hers was looking down at his drink.
They called 'mother' over and Kiara clenched her hands. She knew what was coming next.
She didn't think, just sat there looking at nothing in particular. Soon she heard 'mother's' voice and she looked up. 'Mother' was with the third man. He could barely hold her gaze and she realized that he was the shy type.
'Mother' nodded at her and Kiara found herself grabbing the man's hand and leading him up the curved stairs. As loud as the music was, she could focus on nothing but her heartbeat—one heartbeat...two heartbeats...three heartbeats...
"What's your name?" She'd barely heard him speak, but she said nothing as she opened the door with her spare key. It was her 'room'.
They got in and she closed the door behind them.
"You have twenty minutes," Kiara said quietly, already taking off her gown. She heard a strangled sound behind her and when she turned back, the young man was averting his eyes and she could very well see the light blush dusting his cheeks.
"You don't have to do that."
"It's my job, it's what you asked for." He looked at her and just seemed to stare at her.
"It's what my friends asked for." he corrected.
She walked over to him pulling the hand of her gown down regardless.
His eyes were wide as she came to stand in front of him. Green eyes met an oceanic blue and she had to remind herself to focus on the matter at hand.
She began unbuttoning his clothes since he didn't want to do it, but his hand stopped hers.
He was much taller than her so she had to look up. She didn't understand.
"I only agreed with my friends because I wanted to see you and talk to you."
Kiara looked at him confused. Was he mad?
What kind of a man refuses a paid service?
She ripped her hands from his and sat him down on a nearby chair.
"Miss, wait—" But she was already on his lap.
She looked into his eyes and was peeved to see a strong determination there.
"I said I wanted to talk to you." he insisted quietly.
"We can talk after," she told him.
Her hand was on his body again.
"Stop," he said sternly and she got up in frustration.
"I don't get paid if you refuse. What kind of a man are you," she paused,
"Do you think this is what I want, you think I'm throwing myself at you because I want to?" She didn't know why or when but tears started falling down her cheeks.
He just stared at her shocked.
"People like you don't know what people like us have to go through. It's enjoyable for you but it's work for me. Don't you get it, I need this to survive." she cried. She sank to the floor, defeated.
She didn't ask for any of this. She didn't ask to be alive. She wished she'd been buried in her past because that was where she belonged.
She didn't belong in the present. At least she would be forgotten.
The man let her cry and when she was calm enough, he spoke,
"I understand more than you think." He said quietly. She sniffed looking up at him.
He was looking at her with eyes that were older than his age. It was then she realized that he understood her.
He stood up and crouched in front of her.
"When I saw you, I was awestruck, " he whispered.
"You seemed angelic, transcendent. You didn't belong in a place like this."
He reached out and wiped her tears.
"Why do you care?" she whispered. There was a glazed over look in his eyes before he looked at her. They were eyes of pain.
"You remind me of someone I used to know." He said quietly.
"Get up." He helped her up. Kiara looked into his eyes and she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time—a sense of worth.
"I'm nobody, you shouldn't care." She adjusted her gown. He smiled.
"I find myself doing just that."
"I have a farm, you could be one of my paid labour, if you want. I pay well and I feed my workers. And there's a free inn where you could stay. I know you don't trust me and honestly, you have no reason to but I'm being genuine." She didn't what came over her but she kissed him and continued until he stopped her. His eyes looked like a swirling storm with how it had darkened.
"I'm not getting paid but I want to." She said looking up at him. She wanted to kiss him again but he shook his head.
"Then let's do this the right way. Let me get to know you. What's your name?"
"Kiara." She said. He smiled. She realized that she liked his smile.
"I'm Peter."
"Come on." He took her by the hand and took her out of the room.
He took her home in his carriage. When he saw where she lived, he looked at her shocked. She averted her eyes but he seemed to have made up his mind about something.
"I'm coming to pick you up tomorrow. Is that okay?" She didn't know why maybe it was the concern in his voice or the passion with which he spoke but she said,
"Promise you'll come back for me." He held her gaze for a long time as if trying to remember every turn and curve of her face.
His gaze softened.
"I promise Kiara." Then he was gone.
But he didn't come back. She waited for him, but he never did.
She didn't know if it was possible to feel the way she did after it dawned on her that he was never coming back.
How could he do that, raise her hope then smash it to a million tiny pieces? Three months passed and things only seemed to get more unbearable.
She got home late after a long day. She took a shower, paid rent then bought a piece of stale bread with what was left.
She wolfed it down in one go and drank from the mill. It was her only meal of the day.
Little Agnes was crying her eyes out. She offered to take her. When she received the toddler— she weighed nothing. Kiara's eyes watered at the deteriorated state the baby was in. Pieces of hair were missing from her head, she had scabs and her stomach was over-bloated.
Kiara knew she didn't have long. She wept and cried her eyes out.
_Would there be no end to this suffering?_
She went to bed and she dreamt of her past and oceanic blue eyes.
_I promise Kiara_ he whispered.
She woke up with tears in her eyes. She had to find him. She asked around if anyone knew a man named Peter. She was relieved that everyone she met knew of him or something about him.
_He hadn't lied._
She walked till she was tired. His farm was in the town over.
She walked for a long time panting. Finally, she found the farmland—It was huge.
"He hadn't lied," she whispered again to herself. It meant more than she was willing to admit.
She crossed over the wooden bridge and made her way to the farmhouse.
Some labours were working on the farm while some were in the act of processing grain.
A woman that looked like an accountant was sitted in front of the house with her calculator.
Kiara approached her timidly.
"Good afternoon miss. I'm looking for Mr. Peter." The woman looked at her from the bridge of her nose and accessed her. Her beady eyes scanned over her ratty clothes and slipperless feet.
"And who might you be?" she snarked. She lowered her head.
"I'm an a—" What was she to him anyway?
"An acquaintance ma'am."
"Well acquaintance or not, he died some months back." Something hot flickered through her.
"W-What?" Her eyes were wide. The image of the oceanic eyes she so much adored stared back at her lovingly.
The woman stood up.
"He died in an ambush on his way back to town across. He said there was someone he needed to bring home. He was so happy that day, I couldn't understand what could have made him so happy." Kiara's stomach dipped as her legs gave way under her.
No, no, no, no.
Tears squeezed painfully past her eyes as images of the only man that had been kind to her flashed across her eyes.
Peter...
"That is where he lies." She pointed to a place beside the house and she scrambled to her feet and ran.
Kiara got to the grave and indeed saw his name.
"No." she sobbed sinking to her knees.
"Why?" she wept in anguish,
"You did nothing to deserve this!" she cried. Why does everyone leave, why is the world twisted, why would anyone kill an innocent man?
She sobbed.
Her ray of hope was dead. Peter was dead, gone.
"I thought you left me. I thought you broke your promise. I didn't know you were coming back for me, I didn't know you were on your way."
Kiara sat there all evening and all night, till the next morning.
The accountant was shocked to see her passed out in front of the grave the next morning. She ordered the workers to get her inside. They made her some hot bath and made her breakfast.
They all received her with a kindness she'd only seen from Peter—they really were his people.
The accountant sat and watched her recount her life story up until the point she met Peter.
The woman watched her nearly moved to tears.
Kiara was surprised with what she said next—
"So you're here." She said with a kind smile. She was Mrs. Pratt, his aunt. The farm had been handed to her since he had no siblings or children.
"I haven't seen him glow that much until that night. He told me that he'd met an angel," She wiped off a treacherous tear that had managed to escape her eyes,
"I'm glad you found us." She whispered sniffing.
With tears in her eyes, Kiara watched as she told her more about Peter. He loved the forest, he loved to play the piano and he was kind.
_A wonderful man._
She later offered her a work position not as labour but as a supervisor. She would be giving a place to stay and food allowance as promised.
She remembered Peter's eyes and smile and how he'd made her feel so special. How could she forget a man like that? She wished she could have seen him one last time, she wished she could have held him and kissed him again. She wished she could have given her heart to him, the only part of her that hadn't belong to anyone else. She would have given him all of it and more.
_She wished..._
With tears in her eyes, she hugged the aged woman and cried for Peter.
He was the man who saved her. She would never forget him.
Finally, she could move on to the future, free from the past.
Kiara broke the loop.
.
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Peter...
"That is where he lies." She pointed to a place beside the house and she scrambled to her feet and ran.
Kiara got to the grave and indeed saw his name.
"No." she sobbed sinking to her knees.
"Why?" she wept in anguish,
"You did nothing to deserve this!" she cried. Why does everyone leave, why is the world twisted, why would anyone kill an innocent man?
She sobbed.
Her ray of hope was dead. Peter was dead, gone.
"I thought you left me. I thought you broke your promise. I didn't know you were coming back for me, I didn't know you were on your way."
Kiara sat there all evening and all night, till the next morning.
The accountant was shocked to see her passed out in front of the grave the next morning. She ordered the workers to get her inside. They made her some hot bath and made her breakfast.
They all received her with a kindness she'd only seen from Peter—they really were his people.
The accountant sat and watched her recount her life story up until the point she met Peter.
The woman watched her nearly moved to tears.
Kiara was surprised with what she said next—
"So you're here." She said with a kind smile. She was Mrs. Pratt, his aunt. The farm had been handed to her since he had no siblings or children.
"I haven't seen him glow that much until that night. He told me that he'd met an angel," She wiped off a treacherous tear that had managed to escape her eyes,
"I'm glad you found us." She whispered sniffing.
With tears in her eyes, Kiara watched as she told her more about Peter. He loved the forest, he loved to play the piano and he was kind.
_A wonderful man._
She later offered her a work position not as labour but as a supervisor. She would be giving a place to stay and food allowance as promised.
She remembered Peter's eyes and smile and how he'd made her feel so special. How could she forget a man like that? She wished she could have seen him one last time, she wished she could have held him and kissed him again. She wished she could have given her heart to him, the only part of her that hadn't belong to anyone else. She would have given him all of it and more.
_She wished..._
With tears in her eyes, she hugged the aged woman and cried for Peter.
He was the man who saved her. She would never forget him.
Finally, she could move on to the future, free from the past.
Kiara broke the loop.
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Taiwolilly ✌
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This piece is deep. It's very real. I feel Kiara's pain, the depth of her anguish. Thank God for Peter.
ReplyDeleteThank God the loop is broken.
Hallelujah!😇
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