Ciara's POV
"Excuse me Vulcan, it's Arianna," a suit-clad man interrupted.
The CEO glared at me like I was crazy, before looking at the man who approached him.
No, he was the crazier one. Thank goodness I found him, and I wasn't letting him go, because the CEO must marry me.
I cleared my throat as the man handed the phone to the CEO, and a female voice came through.
"Hey, love. How's it going over there? I've been trying to reach you, but you aren't answering," She giggled. "I hope you're doing well and excited for our upcoming wedding?" She sounded enthusiastic. "I can't wait to see you soon. Bye!" She blew wind kisses and the voice message ended.
He glanced at me through the corner of his eyes, before instructing the man, "Ignore the message." He handed him the phone and the man nodded and pocketed the phone, then walked past me and out of the office.
"'Heaven knows I needed to find you really badly," I said to him, but he raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled.
"I said heaven knows I needed to find you urgently," I repeated slowly, emphasizing the urgency.
"What for?" he asked gruffly.
For our unfinished business," I stated firmly. "For the thing you left inside of me four months ago."
I was surprised by my own confidence, but I knew I had to stand up for myself - my whole life was at stake.
He continued to pretend ignorance, but I wasn't having it. I walked closer to his desk, my hands planted firmly on the warm wood, my eyes locked on his blue eyes.
Don't play dumb, we both know what I'm talking about.
"You think I don't remember?" I scoffed, my voice laced with inner exhaustion and disdain. "Do you really think I don't remember you? That I could forget the face of the man that got me pregnant?"
He was insane to think I would forget. He locked his narrowed ocean blue eyes to mine.
"You have to marry me now, because I'm four months pregnant for you!" I announced, the words wrecking my own world.
I'm sure you have the wrong guy miss," he said, his tone dismissive and infuriating. "And you're crazy to think I'll marry you, just because you said you're pregnant for me. How am I supposed to believe you're even pregnant, let alone that the child is mine? Doesn't that sound absurd to your own ears?" He snorted, rolling his eyes in disbelief.
"I don't have the wrong man," I said firmly. "Do you think I'm stupid? That I don't remember you clearly?" I let out a nervous laugh. "You thought you'd escaped for good, right? Marry me today, or I'll scream to this whole office, the kind of man you are!" I gritted, my voice raised.
He became uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. "Young woman, I promise you, I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe I was drunk or something. I don't remember anything, and one thing I know quite well is that you're not even my type."
I wasn't buying his excuses, but my eyes betrayed me as it began to empty its tears.
"Don't you get it? That I'm pregnant with your child," I sobbed.
I was out of breath, my hair disheveled, and my tears on his desk. But I didn't care. I needed to trap him into marrying me fast.
He leaned back in his chair, his teeth digging into his lips.
With a flick of his pen, he pointed to a chair. "Sit," he demanded, and I sat.
He leaned in close, his teeth clenched, and grasped me by the neck. "I'm a man of my words and also a ruthless soul, so listen carefully because I'll say it once and only once" he growled.
"Whichever way you were paid to blackmail me with this stupid pregnancy of yours, before I close and open my eyes, make sure you're out of my office,"
The way he clenched his teeth terrified me. I wished the ground would open and swallow me whole. Oh dear, what about the job interview?
I averted my gaze to my feet. "What about the job interview? Will I still get one?" I fidgeted nervously with my hands, my heart racing in my ears.
He leaned back in his swivel chair, his voice commanding and cold. "Get out!"
I flinched at the sound of his words and clumsily stood up, hurrying to leave. "Come back here," he demanded. Despite my trembling, I felt a glimmer of hope that he might still offer me the job. But my hopes were crushed when he blurted, "Don't bother stepping your foot into building and never bother applying again."
Tears flooded my eyelids, and I couldn't wait to unleash the screams that threatened to erupt. I requested the bathroom weakly and stepped inside for a brief moment of crying, before heading home.
As I exited the taxi, my heart sank at the worst view ever. Indie, worn out and looking sunken in hurt, was clinging to a man's feet, sobbing and begging him. Two burly men were busy hurling our belongings away from the house. "Get lost, what don't you understand, huh?" he shouted, shaking off her grip on his leg.
As they drove away, locking us outside, I embraced Indie tightly, trying to console her despite feeling as helpless as a withered plant.
"What happened?" I managed to ask, composing my voice to sound braver than I felt. Indie's head was buried in my chest, her tearful red eyes downcast as she squirmed and sobbed.
"His son is taking over the house in a week," she revealed, her voice cracking. "I begged him, saying I'd figure out the rent, but he refused and threw our stuff out."
I sat down beside her, gently running my hands through her hair to calm her down, as I stared blankly into space. The weight of our situation crushed me - jobless and homeless, with no safety net to fall back on. Indie would find a way to bounce back, but I had no one, nowhere to turn.
She finally slowed her tears, "How did the job interview go? Tell me you aced it." Her red, puffy eyes met mine, and I sighed deeply, shaking my head in defeat.
"I'm sorry," she said, but I tried to reassure her it wasn't her fault. Things don't always go our way, you know.
Indie got up to find some food, leaving me alone with my thoughts. This wasn't the life I had envisioned; it had become unbearable. In a moment of desperation, I felt like escape was the only option. Without a word, I left, not even bothering to say goodbye or leave a hint about my whereabouts. The darkness closing in felt suffocating, and I wondered if ending it all was the only way to stop the suffering.
I stood at the edge of the iconic LA bridge, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city. Yet, I felt utterly alone. People shouted and pleaded with me to step back, some recognizing me as my father's daughter, while others only cared about capturing the moment on their cameras. But I didn't care. It was all ending today, and I was ready.
I lifted my feet off the bridge rail, suspended them in the air for a moment, and then let myself fall. Time seemed to slow as I plummeted towards the deep blue water below. The screams and shouts grew fainter, replaced by the sound of my own heartbeat. Some voices cried out for an ambulance, but it was too late. As I hit the water, it enveloped me like a cold embrace, and I began to drown.
In my final moments, my thoughts turned to my unborn child.
That was the only time they mattered. What would their life be like if I hadn't made this choice? Would they ever know how much I loved them? And then, everything went dark.
As I slipped into unconsciousness, I realized I didn't want to die. But it was too late. Too late to breathe, too late to turn back the clock, and too late to go back to the day I was born and erase my mistakes. The darkness closed in, and
I closed my eyes gently and fell into the night of my death.
It was all over, I was gone.
Caira's POV
My head throbbed badly as I tried to breathe. I slowly opened my eyelids, only to feel a stinging, salty pain in my eyes.
Bubbles flowed from my nose as I forced myself to breathe through my nostrils. Everything around me was a blurry blue, and I realized I was underwater. Desperate to survive and avoid a repeat of history, I struggled and yelped for help each time my head broke the surface - it was a pool, I saw the last time I looked up.
But my legs felt heavy, as if tied to massive stones, refusing to budge.
Oh gosh, who put me here? Was I going to die again, this time against my will?
If I wanted to live, I had to fight for it. "Help!" I screamed underwater as loudly as I could, and the sound echoed through the water, causing more water to rush into my mouth.
I jolted upright, but something pulled me down. It was my mother - how was that possible? I was supposed to be dead, or was this some kind of afterlife?
My deep breaths burned my throat and pounded against my ribcage. Despite my confusion, I took in the scene before me faster than I expected. My mother's voice was sweet, a stark contrast to her usual tone, "Relax, honey." She encouraged me, her hands placed to my shoulders.
No, this wasn't real life. My mother had never been sweet to me.
What was wrong with the universe? I wondered, my eyes following the motion of my dad and three other men clad in white garment, circling me with a broom and a bowl. I was on the verge of tears. The scene was unbearable. Was this a punishment for taking my own life?
This time, I tried to resist my mother's grip and make a move, maybe run away? But she yanked me back.
"Lay down there, honey," she growled, her tone softening only at the word "honey."
"What's happening here?" I managed to utter my first words in this bizarre situation.
"It's a ritual; you've been possessed with an advanced Schizophrenia," one of the unknown men spoke up, his voice firm.
He dug his hand into the bowl and began splashing its contents onto my face. I squinted, wincing in pain.
Two of the other men began flogging me with the broom, causing agony throughout my body. My father circled me, chanting in unison with my mom.
My mom held me firmly in place, "It's gonna be alright!" She tried to comfort me, but I knew something was definitely off - my mom never used abbreviations or contractions; she always spoke in full, precise words.
I succumbed to the piercing pain of the broom on my skin and gently lay back, losing consciousness.
The next time my eyes opened, they met my reflection, seated in a swivel chair, with a hairdresser styling my hair in my parents' suite. I was already made up, with a beaming blush that complimented my hairdo and makeup.
From my appearance, I could tell it was for a special occasion. Ah, a wedding, I thought, as I gazed into the mirror in front of me and saw a wedding dress behind me, hanging on a padded hanger from a valet rod.
The urge to ask what was happening surpassed my dazed state, but I shrugged it off and played along.
Soon, my mother emerged from the suite's open entrance and walked towards me graciously.
"Caira dear," she squeaked, approaching and embracing me from behind. I knew she could see me in the mirror, and everyone else could too, so I closed my eyes and pretended to enjoy her hug.
"I'm so happy to be myself," I lied, feigning gratitude.
Something was definitely wrong; it was as if the world had switched back the moment I drowned and was now stuck in a time loop.
"What day is it?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
My mother rested her chin on my shoulder, her eyes fixed on my reflection. I forced a smile, contorting my cheeks to appear happy.
"What do you mean, what day is this? It's your wedding day, darling," my mother said, her voice dripping with excitement. The ladies dressing me up stood at a corner, their heads slightly bowed, their eyes cast downward.
"No, I mean what day is it?" I let out a nervous chuckle.
She gently peeked at my made-up cheek and gestured for the stylists to resume their work as she strode away. My head tilted, I watched her retreat until she was out of sight.
The stylist gently turned my head to face forward, and she resumed her work. My phone, which I hadn't noticed until then, lay face down on the mirror table. I hastily picked it up and clicked the screen open.
A picture I didn't remember taking with my mom was the screen lock, but that wasn't what I wanted to check; I wanted to know the time and what day it was. I glanced around the screen, feeling like I had lost my memory on how to use a smartphone.
My eyes scanned the screen, and eventually, they landed on the time and date. My breath hitched. It was July 13th, 11 PM - a day I remembered clearly, a day I had lived just three days ago.
No notifications, no news, no records of the previous days - the worst part was that I remembered drowning, along with my purse and phone. It was as if I had been erased from existence, only to be resurrected into this strange new reality.
I gasped as if it was my last breath, and panic set in. I struggled to suppress it, but it wouldn't subside, until the ladies noticed.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" one of them asked, concern etched on her face.
"I'll get Mrs. Thane," the second lady said, while the other held me.
I was almost out of breath, but I managed to blurt, "No, don't, I'll be fine." I forced a convincing smile, still gasping for air, but slowly it began to subside.
"I'm afraid to say, ma'am, but I think your mother is doing something bad to you," one of the ladies bowed, her head, her face downcast and whispered.
My senses reeling, I widened my eyes in shock, glaring at her reflection in the gigantic mirror.
Komentar Paragraf
Fitur komentar paragraf sekarang ada di Web! Arahkan kursor ke atas paragraf apa pun dan klik ikon untuk menambahkan komentar Anda.
Selain itu, Anda selalu dapat menonaktifkannya atau mengaktifkannya di Pengaturan.
MENGERTI