The Misguided

An Awakening

CHAPTER 1: An Awakening

Who knew the residents of Lilac Dove, a suburban neighbourhood located on the outskirts of London, would have so many secrets......

Lilian Woods plops the gun onto the ground while the red and blue wailing sirens envelopes her, shattering the serene night. She gently wipes off the blood on her face, leaving a crimson red stain on her pearl-white sleeves. She doesn't remember a single thing except for the sound of the accelerating bullet as it imbibed the last source of life out of his anguished soul, followed by a deafening thump; running as fast as she could from the scene while commotion filled her blank mind. She suddenly turns around, only to see a young girl staring back at her with disappointment-filled, sunken eyes.

"Mommy, what did you do?"

Lilian plunged from her bed, gasping for air, with the presence of alarms eerily echoing in her head. No, she wouldn't do that. Lilian loves him, despite the rough patches in their relationship. It was just another nightmare because of the psychedelic medication she was taking, indeed. She adjusted her sweat-steeped white shirt and wiped the droplets off her forehead with a handkerchief, glancing over at the clock on her nightstand- It was 2:30 am, September 15th, 2013.

The door slams from downstairs nailed Lilian back into reality. She took a few deep breaths, got up from her bed and slowly descended into the living room. Her husband, Daniel Woods, passed out on the couch the second he stepped foot in the house with shoes still on. It's been like this for the past few weeks, where he would be gone for the whole day without any explanation and return around late 2 am. She assumed he was going out to drink with his friends at a local bar as a coping mechanism, blinded to the evident suspicion surrounding his actions. Lilian sat down beside him, barely tolerating the searing aroma of alcohol and cigarettes while she gently stroked his disordered ebony hair in hopes he would wake up.

"Hey, where were you all night?"

Daniel forcibly turned with his tense torso like a ragdoll, barely making out a few words with persistent coughs,

"It's none of your business."

"Yes, it is! I'm worried about you."

"I am fin..."

He grunted, passing out again before finishing the sentence. Annoyed, Lilian snatched his phone from the back pocket only to realize he had changed his password since the last time she logged on a few months ago. She tried angrily every possible combination until it was disabled, then disappointedly headed to the kitchen to pour herself a drink of vodka after slamming his cell phone on the table. She picked up the wooden framed picture on the kitchen island and dusted the rim with her fingers, as a young girl with silky blond hair and rosy cheeks below her charismatic blue eyes unveiled. Lilian felt a tingly sensation in her eye- except nothing came out. Today would've been her 4th birthday, but the haunting memory of her suffocating in front of her eyes felt like yesterday. It was nights like these when she missed her the most. She chugged her glass and poured shots one after another.

Lilian firmly believed that the faults in her marriage began when their daughter passed away, despite the last time they even shared a kiss, two years ago. Lilian and Daniel were high school sweethearts and started dating during their senior year. However, their passionate love was short-lived due to their hidden competitive nature. The last time they fought, it was at a couples' retreat when Lilian scored in a golf game, and Daniel didn't. The receptionist at the resort received several noise complaints and had to quiet them down; they decided to converse minimally since then. Six months ago, Lilian lost her job due to her diagnosis of uncomplicated PTSD and mild depression associated with inattentiveness and poor work quality. That was the one time Daniel showed her signs of comfort, perhaps the buoyant mood by his recent job promotion. They unleashed the worst in each other, and many believe their connection was harvested by highlighting each others' insecurities. Despite everything, Lilian still loved him unconditionally due to her twisted perception of love. She often wondered if perhaps she was the problem; and made an effort to repair her infirmities- meditation, life coaching, a continuous attempt at therapy- she tried it all. After the stagnant progress in their relationship, she could not help but begin to fantasize about the feeling of belonging in this wrecked marriage, wondering if maybe a part of her compassionate, bubbly self wasn't buried with her daughter at the hospital a year ago; or if they had the opportunity to watch their delicate creation blossom- things would've been different.

At this point, she began feeling a little tipsy, trying to navigate through the shattered pieces of her memories until the interruption of the ringing doorbell.

Who was visiting at this hour?

She tip-toed towards the front door and stared into the peephole. She could not see anyone on her dusk-enclosed porch except for a silver-wrapped, floral-lined package addressed to " Lillian Woods," lying on the shoe rack with no return address. She cracked open the door and slowly picked up the box, immediately feeling sober. This is the second package she has received since the last from the day prior. She had a burgeoning feeling it would be a daily routine, as the thought of it being a "silly prank " began to subside. In a suburban neighbourhood like Lilac Dove with 20 residents, it's odd even to receive spam mail-  not to mention the persistent arrival of personalized packages.