❥𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 || 𝑀𝐽 𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 ❥/𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑑/•

🌸𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴🌸

𝙾𝙲𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟹𝟶𝚃𝙷, 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟽.
𝟷𝟸:𝟹𝟻𝙰𝙼.

Michael awoke with a start, rising into a seated position. He had been in deep slumber, and in the middle of another horrid nightmare before he'd snapped out of it - the exact same thing that been happening now for a couple of weeks. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, and his palms felt cold. In the midst of his panic, he had also awoken his fianceé, who had been sleeping peacefully beside him.

Helen placed her hand on his back, instantly noticing that he was sweating like crazy, even though there had been a very efficient cooler in the room.

"Again?" she studied him intently, watching as he tried to steady his breathing.

He struggled for a few seconds before finally bringing himself to nod, forcing out a hoarse yes.

"I'll get you something to drink," she sighed, climbing off of the bed as Michael continued to sit there, the images of his dream still vivid in his mind.

He had seen her again, he had seen Sarisha again, and even though it had been seventeen long years - her image had been clearer than any vision or memory he had ever retained. Just when he thought he'd never have to see the horrific images of his deceased wife ever again, it had flooded his mind in the most brutal way possible. The memories were too much for him, causing him to tremble violently.

Devastation was not even a quarter of the incredible despair he'd experienced when he had first learnt that he had lost his beloved wife in an unimaginably gruesome manner. Everything about that traumatic night was still stamped into his memory. No matter how hard he tried to forget it, it was always there.

Seventeen years later, he could still clearly remember the faces of the police officers that had approached him as he was leaving the studio, the two law enforcement individuals bearing grim expressions. He still remembered how sick he had felt, even before he had heard the news that his wife had been brutally murdered in their own home.

"Mr. Jackson, I'm afraid we have some bad news. Your wife, Sarisha, has been found deceased at your residence. We need you to come with us before we can discuss any further details,"

"No," he whispered, repeating the very word he had cried out all those years ago when he had first heard the news.

How could somebody have been so cruel? They had only been married for two years, but their love was like no other. What they had was special, unattainable - and in the blink of an eye, it was savagely ripped away.

She had died in a state of terror, and she had met a painful end. The young woman had been attacked in her own home, violently stabbed to death with a knife from her very own kitchen, and left to die alone. The entire scene had been a sick bloodbath, and the brutality with which she had been stabbed had rendered the entire world shaken when the news broke.

Michael remembered everything - the crime scene pictures, the destruction the pictures had caused him, the anger at the sad reality that the killer had never been found.

But most importantly, he remembered she wasn't the only person that perished that evening.

His heart ached at the memory of Sarisha's eight month old baby bump, and how excited the two of them had been to finally start a family together. He could still see the way she glowed whilst carrying their child, and how dedicated of a mother she already was.

Eight months along, and they'd only had to wait one more before they could finally hold their baby girl in their arms. They'd only had to wait one month to dote on their newborn princess.
But that one month had slipped out of reach much too soon when Sarisha had been murdered, the innocent life of their unborn baby being snatched away as well.

When Michael had lost Sarisha and their unborn baby, he had lost everything, even his will to live. He hadn't wanted to continue with life anymore if it had meant he needed to do it without the woman he adored. The only thing that had kept him hanging on was Sarisha's best friend - and that was Helen.

She was never supposed to become anything more to Michael, especially because the only woman in his heart was Sarisha. Helen was merely a reminder of the woman he had lost, and her company had always made him feel closer to the wife he could no longer hold and cherish. She was only ever supposed to be a friend.

But of course, as time passed, he had grown attached to her, for she was the last piece of Sarisha he'd had. It was twisted, yes, but not everyone had seen the sort of grief he had. Losing a spouse and an unborn child in such a tragic manner could do a lot to alter a person.

And that is what had happened with Michael. In time, he and Helen had grown close, and after quite a while - the two had finally decided to give a relationship a try. The relationship had taken off after ten years of hesitation, on Michael's part, so it was something that both parties had had a lot of time to try and be sure of.

There was no doubt about the fact that the situation was a little difficult for any stranger to understand, but with the tragedy that had affected the both of them - the two had common ground that could be found with no one else. Michael bore deep sadness for Sarisha's murder, and the only person that could share that grief was Helen.

Only she would have known what it would have felt like to lose Sarisha after years of close bonding.

Closure, however, had never really come for them - because the killer had been skillful enough to have made sure there was nothing solid to lead back to them. Every piece of evidence that could have posed as a lead had not been present, and whatever had been left did very little to propel the investigation forward.

After several years, the case had gone cold and eventually had been closed - leaving Michael and Sarisha's loved ones without answers.

It was a wound that had never healed for Michael, and it had affected him more than anyone could ever have possibly assumed.

If observers thought it was bad, it was a lot worse.

But the nightmares of his dead wife had only come back to haunt him after the longest time. For so long, the recollections had been pushed to the farthest corner of his mind, hoping to be forgotten completely.

Yet now they were coming back to haunt him, and he didn't know why.

Was there a reason, or was it an uncanny coincidence?

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