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Prologue

                                          MEL
                               KISS OF DEATH

I am rushing to write him a letter to brush the deep agony that my departure would leave behind. We walked through the narrow road of marriage, tied by the vows we had pronounced at the altar that day. It was the happiest of my life.

I was the Beauty of my Father's tribe, from which I got banished. Whenever I walked around the village, I would have young men and women bowed down to my feet. They'd bathed the floor with roses after laying the royal carpet down, so my feet did not make contact with dust. As an unmarried Princess, there were none of my whims that remained unsatisfied. I was the beloved daughter, then, I became my father's shame.

My sin was a man and it was James Dawe Shun! He taught me that real happiness involves our loved ones. Sometimes, we have to lower our expectations so we don't focus on their flaws. I learned to cultivate humility in the hardest way. It takes considerable time and effort, especially when you're a sheep living in a world of wolves.

"Mel?" I flinch, pushing the letter under the pillows behind me. It's James! I do not know how he could decide to come by the room tonight. I already gathered my belongings to abandon the house. I pull my small suitcase toward me and lift it down the bed. I drag it to the closet and lay a towel over it, so he does not notice.

"Honey, please. Open up!" As he insists, my heart drums against my chest from the tremendous inclination to see him. I have to remain quarantined for longer than I expected. We have not seen each other for six months. It is a tremendous challenge to keep him away. I have to make sure that my door remains close at all times so he would not creep in.

I am dying from a deadly disease called Marburg. I'll get James infected if we persist to fight the distance keeping us apart.

"James? You are not supposed to be here. You will get sick," I remind him.

A violent headache strikes me as a chest pain follows with a cough. I look down at my hand and notice a heavy amount of blood spilled on my palm. With haste, I reach for some tissue to wipe it off to not get him worried. I reach the door in plain agitation with the idea of sending him off. But, he is not wearing his mask, nor his gloves. He runs in as he drags me along towards the bed after slamming the door with his left foot. He clasps his hand over my mouth and we sit down facing each other. My heart keeps racing, for I fear that his love for me will be fatal for both of us. He is putting his health at risk and I can't even stop it from happening.

"Let me stay here with you tonight!" He begs. "Do not ask me to leave you in this dead place suffering alone." Tears run down my cheeks and he dries out each drop with the back of his hands.

"I wish I stayed in Africa and didn't rebel against my father," I sniff. "If I did, you wouldn't have to go through this."

He shakes his head at the bitter truth while looking up at the large black scarf which I wrapped my head with. He draws himself closer and kisses my forehead. I sense a feverish sensation in my bones as he brings up his right shoulder under my chin. I was so desperate for him to hold me like this! On one hand, I have no words to describe how astonishing it is to see how comfortable he is to kiss my chapped lips. But on the other, I know he is hurting to see the grossing effects of the virus on my body.

My hair looks thin and keeps falling off. My eyes look worn out and my face as pale as someone's who had not eaten for weeks. I have gotten scrawny and as for my skin, it flakes away. Sometimes, when I itch my neck, it bleeds. My nails have become very sensitive. My health worsens despite the treatment and I doubt that I'll get any better.

My muscles sore which forces me to stay in bed most of the day. My solitude grows intense which makes me wonder if I'll meet the same fate as my mother. The day she died, my father reported that she was alone. I never liked to talk about her and less, now that I am ill and hopeless. It's a terrifying thought to die so solitarily.

"I don't want you to be alone," he says out of the blue, carefully caressing each knuckle of mine. His eyes are so sincere that I can't even protest. I do need him, and a lot. "Mel, I just found out that the virus is spreading all over the city. It's not just you who caught it. But-But we can fight. We-We... I mean together. We can fight it."

He is as tender as a pie, and so reassuring. I watch his lips parting and forming words, but all I wanted was to join them to mine. James reminds me of those nights, when he would be in front of my room, beseeching me to let him in after hearing my sobs from his bedroom. He moved his belongings to the room next to mine, last night due to the house nurse's orders. This has irked his parents to the point where I could hear them arguing. They wanted me out, far away, so I did not infect anyone. I can't blame them, maybe if I was in their shoes and being desperate followed by such an unfortunate dilemma, I would've done the same thing. But was I wrong for loving a wonderful soul like James Dawe Shun?

"James, what if you catch it?" I say, allowing him to draw closer to me.

"Catch what?" He replies, acting oblivious. I want to let out a snort, and poke fun at him for being so nonchalant in a moment like this. How can he afford pretending that I am not a danger to him and that I can't possibly die the next day if I am not as lucky?

"Should I remind you?" I say, my tone firm yet weakens by the second his eyes travel from my lips to my bosoms, now perkier due to my drastic weight loss. I know what he's calling for, and I hope I don't surrender, for I cannot afford putting him at risk.

"That doesn't sound like you to be so hopeless, Mel." He says, looking serene and confident that what we're doing is right. He leans in, closer at each shallow breath I take. "Where's the Warrior Princess I know, who doesn't back away from any challenge? The strong girl who knows how to knock a white man off his horse with an 8 inch arrow? If you can do all of these, why would a kiss be more of a threat?"

"I don't want to lose you, James. I don't know what to do." I push myself away from his embrace and stand up. I turn to the mirror beside the closet pointing at my reflection. "Don't you see? That girl is gone. Here, it doesn't take an arrow to knock that disease out of me. I can barely recognize myself."

"That's why you have to fight back!" He gets off the bed and steps behind me. He turns me towards him and It hurts to say, but I have little hope that the treatment will be successful no matter what he says. No one has found a cure for the virus yet, and I believing the opposite sounds pure delusion.

"My immune system is not strong enough to fight the virus. I won't make it!"

I'm a cactus left in a desert, drying out from the heat. You can see my flesh sucking on my bones. I blame my misfortune on my father every day. If he had less pride as a King, then I wouldn't have to leave my homeland, the one I left my heart in. I wouldn't have been banished. All I ever asked was being allowed to be myself than the character that he wanted to build out of me. And to be allowed to marry an outsider, James.

I'm hot even when it's cold. The treatments I've received from the two last 2 days only calm the fever. They don't work for abnormal breathing. As for inside, the hemorrhage goes from normal to worse. I can smell death from afar. The virus is highly progressive and deadly. But despite all, James's perfume is very pleasant and the idea to welcome his affections. I want to set James free of our love, so he may find somebody else and start a new life. Yet It seems that my absence would cause him more pain than me being ill.

James envelopes me in his arms. "You will kill us both if you give up. I can't imagine my life without you, Mel. What am I to do without you?"

My mind gropes for words to make him leave, yet it runs out of ideas. James' eyes shine as he gazes at me. I smile and stroke his wavy hair.
"Refresh my soul with the honey dripping from your lips, Mel. Sting me if you wish, but don't let me perish in this desert of chagrin. I miss you!" He says, putting out the candlelights. My spine agitates with the goosebumps forming in my bloodstream. My soul is bound to welcome his affection, neither my lips consent to reject his kisses. I accept to die and to bring him down with me, with one simple kiss of death.