catching falling stars

A hidden destiny

Death is a funny little thing.

It can shatter hearts sometimes bones. And like a wild animal strikes when you least expect it. with no bias. it steals your freedom, your passion, your dreams, your soul. but does not always mean the ending or destruction. For us, it was just our beginning...

chapter 1

" Rain. death. tombstones"

it was at 12 pm. The day of your 20th anniversary, the usual interface of crying women had already left the gravesite leaving flowers surrounding your black marble tombstone. It read, "In memory of Eugène Choi, February 14 1979-July 141997. killed in a hit and run. 18. "he will always be remembered and adored by his family and friends". like every year before, I left your favourite bottle of apple soba on the side of the bundle of flowers. "I'm imaging they don't sell them up where you are" I muttered to myself while patting the surface of the tombstone. "Right?" 

no reply.

 I glanced down at the puddle of misery on the top of your tombstone. as i gungered my second bottle of wine down my throat, Your cheeky smile resonated in my mind. your glowing face and voice remaining the same despite the many years that have passed since your death. "your not gonna wish me a happy birthday?".flopping to the ground "every year I miss birthday parties, and present, for you to not wish me a happy birthday?" I remarked, as mother nature's sorrowful tears decorating my cheeks with a black liquid smug. "what a friend you are" slapping the wet soil aggressively.

No matter how much alcohol I drank that day nothing could drown the feeling of regret. 

the day I should have heard your cry.  

mouth muttering the words "run" and eyes tone-cold with fear.

even to the end, you protected me.

 Your blood decorating the ground while my tears decorated mine. A shadow hovers from behind offering me a form of protection. "get off the floor Sara" I slightly turned to the devil in a black suit. " Marcus, fuck off" my words were blunt. "nice to see you too, Sara." His voice was as sarcastic as I remembered. I could feel his eyes rolling as he carelessly chucked his black blazer onto my naked shoulders. "drinking again are you" he glared over at the dozen opened beer cans scattered across Eugene's grave. "cut me some slack it's my birthday" I offered an open beer can as peace offering. " and that's the prime reason why im here"he muttered crouching to my eye level."Sara" he whispered in my ear as he tightens his grip on my arms pulling me up instantly. "he's alive"

he's alive

 I muttered stumbling to my feet "dead men can't see" I added brushing of his grip before immediately falling into his arms again. "it wasn't my fault." He responds unfazed as he once again tightens his grip around my arms guiding me to his metallic black BMW.  He rushes to open the car door placing me in the passenger seat, walks around to his side and plonked down with a grand sigh. His wet black hair stuck to his face, his eyes were filled with years of regrets, sorrows and toxic drinking habits. His slim-cut white shirt and black fitted trousers were now soaked with rain repeativitly dripping on to the fabric of the car.  unconsciously I found myself staring at his body as he attempted to dust off the water from his shirt. He glanced up at me with his ocean blue eyes. "don't cry...crying doesn't suit you"() his glance transferred to the road.

He pressed on the acceleration, racing down the long narrow road before halting at the traffic lights in an unreasonable manner. In utter shock, I gleamed at him. "Is he trying to kill me?" I thought. Marus remained as emotionless and stoic as always. His eyes fixated on the traffic lights with the intend to blast once again down the street. Red, orange "what's with the speed mate?"

 I was ignored.

"GREEN"

 He spontaneously stepped on the acceleration swerving onto the motorway, while avoiding any cars in his sight. The orchestra of car horns, the ruthless motion of the car and fear of death proved to be enough for my throat to let out an uncontrollable scream consisting of the words "fuck" and "shit" consistently. I was slammed from side to side repetitively banging my head on the rear window before grabbing for the upper handle. My saviour. "What the fuck Marcus" I belted out. Too shit-scared to let go of the handle and too afraid to shift my head in his direction  I aimlessly screamed at the dashboard. 

"We are late" he muttered unconcernedly while violently swerving into the second exit, cutting off a mob of angry mum in their 7 seater cars. "He's waiting for us" his crystal blue eyes locked mine as a faint smile appeared on his lips. "He's been waiting for a long time"

To be continued...