stopping fate

part 4: Of werewolves and hydrangeas

 

I quickly said my farewell to Sarah as she cleared some of my curiosities that lingers in my mind these days. Furthermore, I had this fact of the 'faloossh' thing and the growing speculation of Ben's feelings towards me. This jog might take a while.

I wake up everyday in the morning having no mother to wake me up for almost 5 years now. She had this wonderful voice that can get me conscious even in the darkest winter days. The very sound I always like when I hear Sarah's beautiful sound, maybe because both are lovable and angel-like. Which is a big deal for me having no resemblance to her in any way. I got almost anything from my brown hair down to my clumsy feet from my Dad. All from my Dad even the habit of jogging every morning. Mom also believes kindness in every people and have those positive dreamy emotions of fate and true love. But that would be one of those things I'm not affirmed to so I don't have any relationships as of now, or at least not yet. I know I'll have to be with someone in the future and accepting such fate is a big deal for me. I remember a night with my mom in her death-bed after some series of her remission. I was sitting next to her bed in a wooden chair and she asked me to sit with her up in the bed and I abruptly obeyed. She told me a story about a tale that she thought of never telling because it does breaks her heart knowing it does have some hanging end. 

She talked about the love of young Isobel in time of kings and queens in Germany. She was excited having a time with me to finally start the story she somehow wanted me to listen to even if it was kinda sad. She had those sparkly dreamy eyes when talking about Isobel as if she.. she was Isobel. As if, she was also in that time, as dreamy eyes haven't escape her droopy eyelids as a result of her debilitating condition.

I loved how she described the characters and how their lives had been affected by the next tragedy that shaken their very souls. Isobel was a rich girl and as perfect as her favorite hydrangeas generously flowing with beauty at her garden. She always water her little garden overlooking the town, everyday. The same time she always wanted to see a handsome lad who passes in time when she finished picking the hydrangea flowers for her dying mother. It hurts me hearing that from her as if feeling the same way as Isobel towards my mom. 

With that sad scene I have to stop at the nearby bench and sit there. The very story is as different as today.. because at this time, my mother is gone. She can't tell the same story again.. not that she always tells that to me when I sleep. The very thought  of childhood with her singing voice as I fall asleep, makes my eyes watery. The other side of the bench is dirty with coffee spills so I choose the other side, feeling the slight cold of the metals. I sit on it, as I notice a little flower..a flower from a bunch of flower I coincidentally thinking. Hydrangea. The purple color of its petals corresponds on what i actually imagine from my mom's story. The hell is this? Pure Coincidence, I suppose. But on the other thought, I don't believe in coincidence.

I pick it up, peer at the pollens and unconsciously curling my eyebrows to what had happened that day Isobel went out for picnic.

She was always happy following that first meeting with Severus.

Severus is a commoner. He works hard everyday with his strong build as his tool for carrying baskets of vegetables and fruits from his farm for selling. His fair skin, his dark eyes and hairy stumble and chest makes Isobel's heart thump faster. She wonders how those jaw feels like if the shaven hairs slips erotically in her cheeks, neck and all areas of her body. It might tickle. It might get her wet.

The man she came upon waiting every single day in a place surrounding like flowers makes her every waking moment special and to look forward to. The flowers somehow blooms a little bigger, prettier and livelier. Maybe because the girl behind it.. is in--