The Magician and The Goose (Completed)

Chapter 82- LEG, HAND, LIQUOR & WHEELCHAIR

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The windows of Aric's hotel room were stained with thick raindrops. The water on the street outside was reflecting the yellow light of the street lamp. The weather was the mirror of Aric's mood. He was sitting by the bedside corner with his eyes fixed on the street lamp. He could hear the pounding and clattering of rain against the tin shed which was near the hotel...the same hotel where he stayed during his last visit in Baskville. He was angry and frustrated at first when he came back to his room, but now his anguish was slipping into numbness.

Before he could realize what he was doing he quietly stood up from the floor with a stoic face and grabbed the liquor bottle which he ordered half an hour ago. He scrunched his face in disgust as he swigged it down. He used to drink occasionally since he never really enjoyed the taste of alcohol. The clock struck to 12:14 a.m. when Aric was almost heavily drunk and swayed on his feet as he left the hotel and started walking in the rain. He wiped his glasses then and now which wasn't helping his already weak vision and drunk state. His legs were taking him where his heart was. At Shayla's house.

Perspective is the greatest weapon a human could ever possess. Maybe our perspective is erroneous. Maybe the problem is not as complex as we are perceiving it. But, I can not deny the fact that it's more than hard(hard is a weak word for this strong situation) for my parents to see me like this. I'm their child. No father or mother can see their child suffer. I don't think I'll ever be able to live happily now. How can I? When my goose is gone...or should I say I asked him to go away. But he shouldn't have left. I didn't want him to.  Did he really believe my lie? That I don't want us to be together? I want us to be...but now I'm afraid...Because that toxic conception is plaguing my mind that he deserves better or someday he might find someone better than me. After realizing that where I stand and what I am, I'm scared. I know he'll return, he'll never leave me...But a part of me is scared...Very scared...People...they tend to leave...they always do. I know he loves me. I am sure he does, though he never said it.  Truthfully, he didn't even need to because I already know it. I cannot cope up with this notion that maybe now we are over...I feel like my heart would explode any minute now. My heart has turned hollow and cold because it is deprived of the warmth which he used to radiate.

Shayla's hand started shivering badly as she was holding back her tears. She quickly closed her notebook with a sharp intake of breath. She couldn't write her novel anymore. It was painful. She thought that penning down her emotions would help her, like always, but it didn't. Writing was making her recall all those gruesome moments which was piercing her soul like a sharp knife.

Shayla, sitting in the wheelchair, slid it towards the window and rested her chin under her palm as she stared at the rain which was clearly visible under the light of the streetlamp. This was the first time ever in her life that she was regretting the moment when Nattie and Bianca suggested her watching CarryWizz's videos. If it wasn't for me, then he would have been in Sourovitas, peacefully working for his next video in place of crying for a girl who is not worthy enough for him, she thought with despondency.

Shayla rubbed her eyes multiple times as she thought she is hallucinating. She saw a lean figure with glasses standing in the middle of the street, directly looking at her. She knew that figure. She gasped loudly when she concluded that she isn't hallucinating him. He was really there, standing in the rain, completely soaked. Shayla tried to stand up but a sharp pain shoot in her leg and she hissed loudly and thumped back on her wheelchair.

Her eyes flicked over at two other tall figures who were running their way towards Aric. Basil and Dane. They stopped some steps away from Aric as they noticed that Shayla was on her window and Aric was staring at her, perhaps wanting to say something.