Avenging Cupids

Chapter 8: Emotional Catharsis

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem apart of it.” 

― Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights 

“When sorrows come, they come not single spies. But in battalions!” 

― William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Willow awoke the following morning with unbearable chest pains. After she had fallen back to sleep, the nightmare took hold. There was a new somber sensation in the dream and the intensity was so heartbreaking. Just before she drowned, she saw green glowing eyes across the river. They were monstrous and luminescent…and gentle and wise. Why was the dream changing now? She was starting to believe that Alden had been the subject of her dreams since the very beginning. But what did it all mean?

Willow inhaled and was immediately filled with yearning. Her room still smelled like Alden. She was love-drunk from inhaling his exhilarating scent all night. It was like a toxic euphoric drug in vapor form and she was high. 

She needed more; needed to overdose.

Her poor, overworked heart had been pushed beyond its limits. It burned the midnight old for days on end. It would not, could not rest. She welcomed it; the sublime pains of rapid heartbeat made her feel so alive. One of its arteries was clogged for sure. That would adequately explain the chest pains. Or maybe it was just a side-effect from missing Alden, or maybe even withdrawal symptoms.

It was such a foreign feeling—missing a boy and wanting to see him. It had only been a week since he came and changed her world but already, she lived, breathed, and dreamt him. He changed the way she viewed life; colors as bland as a mossy pond and beige vinyl suddenly seemed vibrant; what she used to think was contentment now seemed like excruciating loneliness; and the songs of the birds outside of her window used to be annoying chirping but now were music to her ears.

Alden was her world now, and the very fabric of her soul. He defined Willow's existence. This was no ordinary crush—it was deeper, more magical. It was the closest she had ever come to perfection. Loving him felt so right, even though the Cosmos thought it was wrong. If he were to be taken from her now, he would take her heart and her soul with him; all that would be left were shattered dreams and scraps of flesh.

It had only been a day since that momentous rendezvous in the D.C. High’s auditorium but Willow yearned to see him again. She couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that their relationship was running on empty, as if there was an invisible deadline somewhere in the near future. Alden said their relationship would be short-lived himself. Although it troubled her tremendously, she would not let the deadline limit her love for him.           

How could a love as pure as yellow gold ever die? It should withstand any catastrophic event, survive even the body‘s death. How could a love that hailed from heaven be doomed the moment it is instigated? The Three Forbidden Words were a cruel boundary that seemed to mock Alden and Willow’s love. It was the final frontier that could never be explored unless one wanted to befriend Death.

It just didn’t sit well with Willow. In theory, if Cherubim were a reality and were as benevolent as they were depicted, then why would they allow the existence of their fallen brothers? Why not eradicate the world’s shadows of Telocvovim? Angels were the messengers of God after all, the guardians of mankind. Besides their fabled Creator, these angels were the epitome of power. Couldn’t they make evil disappear?