Over time one if the most popular sayings that brought hope to each that faced great loss was time heals everything. Overtime one will forget, over time the pain will pass. And for the sake of each lost soul one would hope it was true.
Especially for a soul as lost as Racheal Zane.
For despite six months since she awoke to loud beeps of machines and the bright lights of the hospital, she had failed to heal. It was the 23rd of February, a Thursday that she found out she was an orphan. That she had lost her brother. That she had no place to call home.
Because home was not four walls and a ceiling, it was the three people that lived under that roof with her. Those that protected her, nurtured her and loved her. So without them how could she ever say she was home?
She had not cried that day, for she felt numb, dead even, like drowning under water but without hope of life. Maybe because she gave up on it all together. Or maybe she had no strength to endure the pain and so simply chose to not feel instead.
Under the surface of blue
I watched a lake in my dream,
Befallen to calm serenity,
Quite and still the water lay,
Without a word said buried a secret,
The loud screams that lay beneath.
Masked the massacre of thy soul,
As I watched the drowning beauty,
Her body numb,
Her eyes but wide,
Her lips have lost the sound.
She hears the distant cry of the cicada lost,
So far away the quite breaks,
A distant ghost of a lost age,
The lake but entice the promise of cold waters on this summer night,
Eclipsed by the mirage of that life,
To which the night gale but sang,
And the quite the cicada did break,
For now she lay still in this lake,
Entangled in the icy touch of land.
It was something Rachel had read a long time ago. Just to realize how true the poem rung now.
Life for Rachel Zane had changed that fatal Thursday and she kept wishing with every fibre in her body it would change back, but it never did. But she has truly believed it would not get worse. Boy was she wrong about it.
Trouble came in the form of siren bells jingling when the only literature teacher of Bloomingdale's High school had a heart attack.
The very grey eyed demon entered the classroom door that Monday morning to address the seniors of high school as their new literature teacher.
A demon with the most charismatic personality known to man kind. And a smile so charming that befitted the nick name that Rachel gave him over time.
Rachel had been late that morning and the floral printed bodice of the strappy knee length dress she wore clung to her skin as she sprinted to her class.
Loren, or as we know him as the demon had been delivering a speech, highlighting the curriculum of the coming year when, Rachel's waist length cascades of brown peeked at the door.
Loren remembered losing his train of thought when first his eyes watched the timid girl that panted in front of him. Immediately comparing her to Aphrodite. Incomparable beauty. Her long lashes batted at him as her doe eyes as for his permission to enter. He stood there with uncomfortable thoughts racing through his head, which in turned his momentary smile into a scowl.
"You are late," She nodded in acknowledgement.
"Very well detention after school, and you may enter"
He helplessly watched as her hips gently swayed their way to a seat at the far end of the class. Her movements were so sensual that Loren's dick started to throb like the Satan's destiny to hell and burning desire paced through his veins, heating every inch of his skin.
"Before the gracious interruption, we were discussing Shakespeare and his play Othello that you will be covering this year. Now I have been told you have covered a few plays by him before so can anyone tell me what Othello's about?"
His stormy gaze scanned the room for a single hand to be raised, feeling a sense of disgust at the range of nit wits he would have start teaching the coming year, until his eyes stopped at the Beatrice that quitely sat and decided to ask her the questions.
"Miss? The one who came late?"
She looked up at him, scared, pointed her long manicured finger towards herself in a gesture as if to ask if I was addressing her.
"Well I did not see any one tardy enough to be late on the very first day of school now, do I?"
"It is a tragedy. Beginning with the elopement of the moor, Othello with the beautiful Desdemona. It basically covers how jelousy and mistrust can ruin the most beautiful things in life, like in here it was Othello's marriage. Upon the words of another he believed his wife was making a cuckold of him and took her life. Only to find out how wrong he was and in turn end his own life in the grief of his crime. "
Loren stared at her for a good long minute, taken aback that she knew what Othello even was. But decided to say nothing and continued to explain to the rest about the overall plot.
YOU ARE READING
Untamed Desires
Romance"And you.... look like mine." loren said "What does that look like ?" Rachel asked "You look like the screaming sex between my sheets that I get to look, have and fuck" He said as his teeth bit down on his lower lip. "Is that so?" "Oh yes honey. No...
