𝟎𝟒. 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟

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ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʀᴀᴘᴇ

ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʀᴀᴘᴇ

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Grief is a bare forceful being. Soul holds it close. stays.








ARCHANES, CRETE - PIRENNE HOUSE

Nothing. it's an odd word, and what exactly is the meaning of it. Because nothing doesn't exist, it's the definition of something not being there, you can't be nothing, and yet when something isn't there that's exactly what it is - nothing.

Alexandria thought about nothing as a concept quite a lot but I wasn't until that moment that she finally understood the word. Nothing. that was what was left of her beloved husband. death is nothing. And Demetri was dead.

Alexandria felt dizzy, like the world was broken. Her world certainly was. 

"I'm sorry honey. He didn't make it" the words ran in her head, she couldn't explain it, she couldn't comprehend it, she just knew that she was in pain. That there was a giant hole in her chest where her heart had been mere seconds ago.

She couldn't feel her hands or her feet, it was as if all the blood in her body had been drained, bleed out as tears though her eyes. She couldn't be in herself, couldn't exist in the feeling she was in.

Alexandria let out a heart-wrenching sob, before collapsing on the ground. Adonis was by her side in an instant, holding her as she screamed and sobbed and punched the air as if it would somehow turn into a solid chest belonging to her husband, so that she would be hitting him for leaving in the first place.

Alexandria was broken.

There was no solace to find. There was no compensation of any kind, because Demetris body hadn't been found there was none economically. Because Adonis had been badly injured in his right leg, there was no help to get from her father when it came to keeping their small cottage running.

Due to their economical situation, thereby meaning the fact that they were ruined, Alexandria had been forced to look for a new husband, but no one wanted her. She was old, already 18 years of age, and she was yet to carry a child leading to the rumors that Alexandria was infertile, or as they put it 'not a proper woman' 

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞, ᴅᴇᴍᴇᴛʀɪ ᴠᴏʟᴛᴜʀɪ (on hold)Where stories live. Discover now