Wings of Light

Cloying Reminiscences

Previously on Wings of Light:

--- *** ---

"Five by fifteen, seventy-five! Three by ten!"

"Maddie, sweetheart, can you hear me?"

--- *** ---

"I'm truly pleased, my love! Mommy is actually the beauty here and you're also doubtlessly beautiful, little sunshine!" 

"Well, I used to be once a true bombshell! Now I'm just the butt of a joke, because the past can't be brought along with the faded beauty I once possessed,"

--- *** ---

"There's a name of the book, imprinted on its cover. You sound peculiarly strange. It's indescribable what kind of tone you're using aimed to me." 

"How funny, baby doll! What are you doing here in the early evening in the train station with a book in your hands?"

--- *** ---

Within less than a minute, the ill-famed serial killer fled momentarily the train station as his elegantly cocksure gait illuminated his very nature and ghosting the cemented ground until his large-frame was out of the nobodies and Martha's sight, out of divinely bulking their optics into him and belittlement of his own daughter, Martha's roundish, pant-clad knees dawdled on the cemeneted ground, narrowing her smoky quartz bijous at the ocean of strangers who were just throwing quick glances at her humiliated self and then passed her as if nothing has happened.

Even though the brunette's indisputably potent strength armored in fragile identity dimly, unceasingly illuminating her very nature, she could no longer handle the mortification of the recent scenario of her father finding out about her incestual relationship she shared with her uncle whom she didn't have only platonic feelings like a niece and an uncle, but also crystalline, soarly translucent tears bubbled from her lower eyelids and straining her eyeballs. In the interval, the brunette manifested to fashion into balled fists her petite, ghostly milky hands whilst managing to grasp her knees and intensifying slowly but surely, ominously the remaining strength, coursing through her muscles and adrenaline pumping into her veins. The mortification's genuine notion and pronounciation bittersweetly laced the young woman's tongue and it couldn't be savoured cloyingly. It didn't have a positive notion which was truly meaningful and speaking emotions behind the scenario, situated on the train station a handful of minutes ago.

Despite the medical student's tremendous inkling of restricting her softer side to resurface and creamily, profusely powder her youthfully gorgeous, femininely dainty facial features, mirroring starkly her true identity and her recent humor, the tears weren't enough to obscure the heir of darkness populating her puffy, bruised facial skin. Severely icy shivers and nausea scorched straightforwardly her tissues, examining in a scrutiny the blurry surroundings as the relentless heavy rain of crystalline, stickily salty tears budded eagerly her lower eyelids and trickling down her well-carved, chubby cheeks. The reciprocal heart pulsations' acceleration frequency whammed into her brittle ribcage, attempting to sort neatly her mind.

Her father emphatically forsakened her for carrying his brother's child and the sheer bertrayal she surreptitiously villainous rewarded the infamous serial killer. Even though Cayden's tremendous care for his family and the only people that bestowed him with triumphiant support, unconditional love and murderous warmness, the separation in two different guilts was an inexorable phenomenon and despondently deplorable for the young lady. The only person whom she could take a bullet or whose shoulder she would bawl her off was namely her uncle Sebastian who was recently committed in the Vermont State Hospital.