The Colonial Heart ✓ (Editing)

Chapter 32

W I L L I A M

As I gazed upon the gruesome tableau, my voice trembled, "How has this become?" The sheer scale of devastation left me reeling, my mind struggling to comprehend the magnitude of the tragedy. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I stumbled, my stomach's contents spilling forth like a confession of my guilt.

Henry's face mirrored my horror, his eyes wide with shock, his features etched with anguish. "What if they've unalived her?" he whispered, and my heart plummeted, my thoughts consumed by the haunting image of Ama's lifeless form amidst the sea of corpses.

Henry's knees buckled, and he sobbed uncontrollably, his grief piercing my very soul. I tried to comfort him, my words faltering, "Some escaped... I'm sure they're among them."But Henry's pain was unforgiving, his words cutting deep into my conscience.

"They said some were taken captive... if they're not here, then they're part of the ones who escaped... I'm positive...our girls are nothing close to weak" I said, but Henry's anguish was unrelenting. "You're to blame for this!" he accused, his voice like a thunderclap, shaking me to my core.

The weight of my guilt crushed me, my lips pressed into a thin line, my heart heavy with regret. Henry's words seared my conscience like a branding iron, his pain and anger a palpable force that threatened to consume me.

"She was pregnant, William! With my child! You can't understand... you don't understand..."Henry's voice cracked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, before he mounted on his horse and galloped away, leaving me to confront the ruins of my own making.

I stood there, lost, my mind reeling, my heart shattered. Tears streamed down my face, a bitter acknowledgment of my culpability. I felt like a monster, a destroyer of lives, a man consumed by regret.

I never imagined I would feel so much pain for a girl, but alas, my heart had been irrevocably shattered by Ama's absence. The thought of living without her was unbearable, a fate worse than death itself. I felt like a shipwrecked sailor, lost at sea, clinging to the wreckage of my own soul.

The pain was excruciating, a two-edged sword piercing my soul was truly merciful compared to the pain that lingered in my heart, I felt like a drunken man, stumbling through a nightmare from which I couldn't awaken. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, my emotions raw and exposed.

And yet, even in the depths of my despair, I knew I had to confront the truth. I was responsible for this tragedy, for the lives lost, for the hearts shattered.

The anguish of possibly losing her forever shattered me, leaving an unbridgeable chasm within. The thought of a world devoid of her radiant presence, her gentle touch, and her loving smile was a weight too crushing to bear. My heart, once full of hope and promise, now lay in tatters, like a canvas torn asunder by the cruel hand of fate.

The pain of uncertainty was a relentless tormentor, piercing my very soul with the haunting question:

Would I ever behold her lovely face again?

The prospect of a life without her was a desolate landscape, devoid of warmth, comfort, or solace - a bleak eternity of sorrow and longing.

I mounted my horse and galloped away from the scene, fleeing the wreckage of my own making. "I'm so, so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible, my heart heavy with remorse. I felt like a monster, a destroyer of lives, a man consumed by guilt.

I dismounted my horse and rushed into my manor, seeking solace in the depths of the alcohol cellar. I had never been a drinker, but now I craved the numbing embrace of whiskey. I downed the liquid fire, feeling it burn my throat, and coughed. "I'm sorry," I whispered again, before downing another swig, the bitter taste echoing my regret.

The warmth of the whiskey enveloped me, and I reached for a cigarette, a vice I had never indulged in before. But now, I needed the comforting familiarity of smoke and flame. I lit the cigarette, inhaling the acrid fumes, and coughed. But soon, I grew accustomed to the sensation, and it became a fleeting comfort.

I slumped to the floor, surrounded by the trappings of my downfall, feeling like a defeated man, a shadow of my former self. The whiskey and cigarette were poor substitutes for the solace I truly sought - forgiveness, redemption, and the chance to undo the irreparable harm I had caused.

And yet, even in my intoxication, I knew I couldn't escape the truth. I was responsible for this tragedy, for the lives lost, for the hearts shattered. The world around me spun, a maddening vortex of guilt and regret, and I was powerless to stop it.

In the depths of my despair, I considered succumbing to the peaceful silence of mortality, for I had lost all sense of purpose. The relentless pursuit of validation, the exhausting endeavor to please others, had become a hollow mockery.

If my existence alone was not worthy of appreciation, then what was the point of continuing? I was weary of living a life dictated by the expectations of others, tired of seeking solace in the fleeting approval of those who could never truly understand me.

The trappings of power, the crown, the title, Katherine's affections - all seemed empty, meaningless without Ama by my side. My heart yearned for her alone, and the agony of possibly losing her was a torment I could no longer endure. In a world that seemed determined to tear us apart, I couldn't help but wonder if we might find each other again in another life, free from the shackles of fate and circumstance. The thought was both a comfort and a curse, a bittersweet reminder of what could never be.

I sought solace in the numbing embrace of intoxication, hoping to dull the ache within. But like a mirage, it promised relief only to betray me, intensifying the anguish that had taken up residence in my soul.

The whiskey's warmth spread through my veins, yet it couldn't penetrate the chill of her absence. In that moment, I was stripped of all pretenses, all desires, all ambitions. Nothing mattered but Ama. The realization struck me with the force of a revelation: I was irreparably, irrevocably bound to her.

The world, with all its trappings and temptations, had lost its allure. I craved only her presence, her touch, her love. And in its absence, I was but a hollow shell, a haunting echo of what once was.

_______________________________

It has been a while since I've writen Williams point of view. I do hope you found it interesting and I found it easier to write this I don't know why,perhaps William was just dying to express his emotions, poor him now I do hope you enjoyed this chapter and have a great day or night!