Chapter 2 One

• How many times had I fled, trying to escape the things that I knew would hurt me? It wasn't just three times; it was too many to count. Over the past five years, I relocated to several places, forsaking my identity and memories and avoiding attachment to anything. I only stayed temporarily before moving on yet again, a coping mechanism to prevent myself from revisiting the place and memories I had buried deep within my mind.
• It was the only way to allow the wound in my chest to heal completely.
• I was working as a writer for my friend's publishing house, fulfilling my lifelong dream of becoming a published author. Writing fictional stories with horror and fantasy themes was my passion, and I was grateful for my friend's help making it happen. At first, I hesitated to accept her offer of assistance due to my pride. I didn't want to be helped because it made me feel weak and worthless. However, I eventually swallowed my pride and accepted her help.
• Previously, I had worked as a secretary for a marketing firm, but my boss helped me to realize that I needed to move on. I was tired of feeling trapped in one place, barely earning enough to cover my expenses.
• My frequent moves annoyed my friend Sanna, who couldn't understand why I had the urge to constantly relocate. It was a personal matter that I didn't feel comfortable discussing with her or anyone else. I had finally achieved my dream of becoming a published author and had the financial means to move around as often as I pleased.
• The silence of my gray-walled room was interrupted by the sound of ambulance sirens. I had been engrossed in writing my novel for what felt like forever, and the sudden noise made me realize that I had lost track of time. When did I even start writing it? I struggled to recall the exact date.
• I stood up from my writing table, where my trusty laptop sat, illuminating the room with its glow. The rest of the neighborhood had gone to bed, but I was a night owl. Unfortunately, insomnia had been plaguing me lately, making it difficult to get a good night's rest. I needed to remember when I started writing this story, but my mind was clouded with too many distractions.
• I had lived in this house in Camilla's subdivision for five years. It wasn't my ideal location due to the constant noise from the highway, but it was affordable and close to my friend's publishing house. I often wore pink earphones to block out the noise and stay focused on my work. Sadly, I had either misplaced or lost them recently. I needed to remain at peace and focused on maintaining my productivity.
• As I gazed at the open window, I realized I had forgotten to close it. Despite the air-conditioning being on, the room still felt stuffy. Just as I moved to shut the window, my phone rang from the side pocket of my brightly colored floral skirt. It was Sanna calling.
• I wondered if she was going to vent about her boyfriend Kelvin, who happened to be a famous model. What could he have done this time to upset my friend?
• I knew Kelvin because he had initially pursued me, but I turned him down, knowing he was out of my league. He eventually pursued Sanna, and after three months of courtship, they entered into a strong relationship. Although he also became my friend, I never condoned his lousy behavior.
• As I approached the window with my phone pressed against my ear, I asked, "What's up, Sanna? Why are you calling again?"
• Closing the sliding window with my free hand, I caught a whiff of the lavender-scented air freshener that Sanna had gifted me from her trip to Paris with Kelvin. It was a purple candle-like glass jar placed on my nightstand.
• I leaned against the wall near the window, listening to Sanna's sobs on the other end of the line. Could it be that they had a massive fight that ended their relationship? Was there such a thing as a perfect relationship?
• No relationship was immune to misunderstandings and heated arguments. Sanna had experienced the ups and downs of on-and-off relationships in the past, but things were different with Kelvin. They hit it off right away, and I was convinced that their wedding would be happening soon.
• “Sanna, why are you crying? What happened?” I asked, gripping my phone tightly.
• Worry flooded my system, and I couldn't bear the thought of Kelvin hurting my best friend. If he did, he would definitely pay for it. I was fiercely protective of those I loved.
• “Laur, I’m so sorry for being emotional. Have you heard the news?” Sanna's voice was hoarse from crying. Her laughter sounded raw on the other line, which made my brows furrow.
• “I don’t watch the news, Sanna. You know I have no time for that. What's going on? Tell me.” My interest was piqued, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. I tightened my grip on the phone.
• As I scanned my room, trying to find a possible explanation for Sanna's distress, she remained silent. I glanced at my phone, making sure the call hadn't disconnected. It hadn't, and the silence only made me more anxious.
• “Laur, can you help me?” Sanna's voice was barely audible between her sobs. Her plea caught me off guard. It was the first time she asked me for help without telling me what was going on first. My gut instinct told me it was something serious.
• “Why do you need my help, Sanna? What's the matter?” I hesitated, wanting to know more before committing to anything. I needed to be certain before taking a bite out of the apple, so to speak.
• “Dad wants me to get married,” she said disgustedly.
• My eyebrows shot up. Did I hear her correctly? Or did my ears deceive me? And why did her voice sound like that? I thought she dreamed of marrying Kelvin. Had something changed in how she felt about him? My brain couldn't comprehend the answers.