Hello!

How are you lovelies? All good? Ready for the chapter? Well then here you go!

The rules are as always. The one in the present tense narrative is the flashback!

I'll talk to you once you're done reading the chapter. =)

Oh, and listen to the song on the side while reading the last half of the flashback. It's got a good feel to it.

Enjoy ♥

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"You made me lie, again!" Anya yells, storming through the entry of my room wearing her wacky, over-sized 'Beatlemania' t-shirt.

I sit up on my bed and make a face at her. "Shh! Not so loud! They'll hear you." Rolling off the bed, I close the door after making sure that no one is in the hallway.

"Nor, I swear I would be hella rich if I charged for every time I've ever lied for you," she rambles blaring, discarding my warning. "Care to explain why did you miss the rehearsal today?"

I swear I am having this conversation for the hundredth time. I have missed yet another string quartet rehearsal and made Anya cover up for me when my mom called. 

It's not like I don't like playing. In fact, if my life was a book, it would start and end with a quote explaining my addiction to its music. But it's those high school seniors that are in the quartet that my mom made me join; bossy and down right rude. So instead sometimes, I take my violin to this place behind the school building. 

I love it there. It's quiet, beautiful and the best of all, no one orders me around.

And after all, it's about the love for music, not where you play it, right? 

I silently look at Anya, knowing that I don't need to answer. She already knows. She always does. 

Anya sighs exasperatedly. "You went to that place again?"  She establishes her hands on her hips, trying to look intimidating but failing so hard that it almost makes me laugh, but I don't. "I don't get why you have such a huge thing for that place? Are you sure there isn't any boy you're meeting over there and not telling me?"

I snicker. "Cause of course that's why I go there."

I fall back on my bed, and Anya plops on it too. "Yeah? tell me all about him," she plays along.

"Tall, great hair, adorable smile, doesn't smells like drenched in Axe deodorant," I enumerate, making the list as I go. "And the best of all, completely imaginary."

"Excluding the imaginary part, I actually might know someone who fits all those criterion," Anya says, making a thinking-hard face.

"Let me guess." I turn on the bed. "That silent, cute guy in your English class you talk about?"

"Daniel?" She asks a little surprised.

"Yeah." I nod. "I think he likes you too. Saw him looking at our table that other day at lunch."

After giving me a good half a minute stare, she shook her head. "For the love of John, I've lost all hope for you."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," she huffs, but then says, "Sometimes I worry we'll end up alone, you, with your stupid violin and I, with my cats."

I raise my eyebrows at the somber look that has sprinted on her face. "The cats, that you are yet to have?"

"What do you think all the money that my parents have saved for my wedding will go?" She asks, incredulously. "I'm buying me some kitty kit kits."

I roll my eyes at the weirdo that is my best friend. "We're still just fourteen, Ann. I think we still have some time to worry about us rotting alone in our pension days."

"No, we don't!" she exclaims, and I am taken aback by her reaction. "I mean look at your sister. She's already had a boyfriend for, what like, five years? And the closest thing I am to having a relationship is with my care bear collection."

"I am pretty sure there's something fundamentally wrong with what what you just said." I tell her, making a thinking face.

Anya ignores me and carries on with her yapping, "My life is so doomed!"

"Don't think so. Not everyone gets to meet their "soul mate" after literally just five minutes since they are born."

I pretend to scoff at the word 'Soul-mate' but Anya knows better. Neither of us could deny that what Emma and Nathan had wasn't something you see everyday.

"That reminds me, is Nathan coming to visit anytime soon?" she asks, her eyes going all dreamy. I shoot her a questioning look.

"Emma will literally tear you apart if she knows about your crush on Nate, full on wolverine-style," I warn her, not wanting the wrath of my twin sister falling upon one of my favorite people.

"As if she already doesn't hate me enough." She rolls her eyes, grabbing one of the Hershey's kisses lying on my bedside table. "And now she hates you too. Forgot to welcome you to the club."

"She doesn't hate me," I tell her, assertively but I am not so sure myself if that's completely true or not.

For the last two weeks, Emma hasn't exactly been talking to me. I mean, she replies if I ask her anything, but without wasting more than a word or two. I have tried charting up everything that I have done recently that might have possibly ticked her off, but nothing justifies her icy cold behavior towards me lately. I could assume that she is just having a rough patch of life or something, but that doesn't explain why it's just me on the receiving side of her aloofness. Nobody else is.

And the worst part, no one is noticing it either. 

Well, okay, that might be because whenever anyone else is around, she's on her normal behavior, being the perfect one of the twins, winning over hearts with her sweet talks and what not. So, that has just left me with the option of telling my whole story of twin sister woes to Anya, who Em has, let's just say has never been very nice to, because Emma thinks that Anya is trying to steal me from her.

Crazy girl, I know right.

It's not like I told you to stay away two towns over from us.

"Nope! Sorry, totally does," she laughs, popping in another one of those Herhshey's chocolate and is about to reach for her third, when her phone vibrates in her pocket. "It's my mom. Gotta go, bumblebee."

"Okay, but you're coming over for sleepover right?" I ask, as she runs towards the door.

"Yeah, I'll be back."

And I just can't resist saying, "And I'll be Beethoven!"

Anya stops in her tracks, turns around, and heaves a theatrical sigh. "And this is exactly why we need to go out more and get a life."

"Yeah, 'cause Cassell Brook is such a happening place for two fourteen year old nerds to let their wild side out?" I roll my eyes.

"Hey, hey, now don't you underestimate the power of nerds," she says, shaking her head in complete disapproval. "And Cassell might not be, but NYC will be!"

"That is if I actually manage to get into Juilliard and you get into NYU." My stomach churns as I utter my dream school's name. To say that I am having regular nightmares about it already wouldn't be a lie.

"Not if you keep ditching those quartet practice, Toto," she yells, already out of the room. I yell after her because she used that stupid name for me again. Apparently after reading 'The Wizard of Oz' she suddenly had a realization that I was like Toto, the monkey, and hence her name for me.

Once I hear the front door shut, the house becomes quiet once again. Mom and Dad are both in their study on the second floor and there is still some time before they come down for their regular dose of caffeine, so I decide to kill some time playing my violin, especially since now I feel a little a bad for missing the rehearsal. The quartet has a fall recital at the local college soon, and if I keep repeating such antics, I will be out of it in no time.

Taking a deep breath, I position the bow to start with the Vivaldi piece that we will be playing at the recital. Just as the bow makes its first stroke on the strings, my phone goes off.

Safe to say, I don't like being disturbed when I play, so as I pick up my phone I'm mildly irritated, but it quickly vanishes as the screen flashes with 'Granny'

"Hey, lovely lady, how are you?" I start speaking, without giving her a chance to first.

"Norah, it's me," it's Emma's voice that comes back. She seems tired and there is a heaviness in how she sounds.

"Oh, hi, Em," I reply, a little timid. After all these years, I still don't understand why I feel like I should fear her at times. The five minute birth difference, probably. "Is something wrong?"

"Why do you ask?" she speaks with the solidity, something that I lose in mine when dealing with her.

I shift my weight on my other leg, and pull on the sleeve of my shirt, a little hesitant if I should tell her or not. "No, it's just that, I mean..." I take a deep breath. "You have been acting kinda weird lately so I don't know I just thought...so what's wrong?"

I feel a wave of relief wash over me, having finally said what has been bothering me for weeks, and then I wait for her answer which I don't get before a long silent moment passes.

"Everything."

Her voices cracks, and I don't need to be there to know that she has started crying. My pulse quickens up with worry. "Em, why are you crying? Wh-wh-what happened?"

"I messed up, Norah." She continues crying. "Big time. And I don't know how to go back. There's no way."

I try to stablize my breath before speaking, but fail. "I don't get what you're saying, Em. Please tell me exactly what has happened. What's going on?"

I hear her sob, and then she sniffles. "Can you keep a secret?"

"What secret?" I stammer while speaking.

"Can you?!" she says, desperation clear in her way of speaking.

"Yes," I say, knowing that I am grasping at straws here. "Now, tell me what it is."

"No one can know about this. Ever."

There's a new eerie calmness in her voice that triggers a shiver to travel down my spine, and makes me more anxious. "I swear! I swear! Em, just please tell me."

The response of the urgency of my words is silence. I still wait for another minute but there's still just the silence so I mumble, "Em? You there? Stay on line, okay? I'll get Mom."

"No!" I physically jolt back from the force that she shouts. "I told you it's a damn secret! You can't tell anyone!"

"Em, you're scaring me," I confess, my hands shaking.

"I met a guy online," she starts, in a flat, almost lifeless voice. "It was supposed to be just a fun thing. I and some of my friends were joking around, connecting our cams with random strangers online. One of them..."

She pauses, and the sound of her breathing is what I hear as million possible bad scenarios rush to my head about that might have happened next after what is already sounding like a setup for disaster.

"Two months ago, we were talking to this guy, quite young, twenty two or something. Said his name was Clay and he lived in Cassell Brook. I generally never really talked to any of these strangers much, mostly my friends did, but, umm," she takes another breath and so do I. "But he was directing all his attention to me. He was really sweet, said I reminded him of his ex-girlfriend he really loved. And I don't know...I don't know what took over me. I mean I knew I had Nathan and it was just wrong, but Clay was older, and it felt exciting. I told myself that it was just a one time thing only bu-but somehow we started talking regularly. He told me...told me to meet him when I come to town, so I did. I didn't tell mom or dad and I sneaked out of the house and I went to meet him at his apartment. And...and...and I made the biggest mistake of my life..."

My blood which has already gone freezing cold, drops another degree. "Em, tell me you didn't..."

She starts crying again. "I did. I did, Noh, and I regretted it instantly. I don't know how I let him even touch me. I love Nathan...I know I do...but it was like I couldn't even have one rational thought at that time. It happened so quickly, and- and I," her voice completely breaks, no restriction on her sobbing. I find myself crying too. "I regretted it soon. I came home, and I didn't know how to face any of you. And alone in my room I kept thinking how I will face Nathan. And it was all too much, Noh."

I wipe away my tears. "Em, listen to me. It'll be fine. Everything will be. When you come over this weekend we can tell mom and dad and I am sure they'll-"

A sardonic chuckle reaches my ear, as if she has found something fascinating in this sick, twisted thing she has just confessed. "Do you think this was all?"

Her voice was just above a whisper, carrying a dark, cold feel. "What do you mean?"

"The guy, Clay, if that's even his name, called me the next day. He asked me to meet him again. I refused. I told him that I had made a mistake that I don't want to repeat again, but he threatened me, saying that I'll regret it if I don't."

"What did he say?"

"He didn't mention but I knew I should be scared of whatever there was, so I went there, to his apartment, again. And there were my pictures all over the place, in-in that state," her embarassment escapes through her words, and I want to do something to help her but there's nothing in my hand now so I settle on patiently listening to her. "He said he had a video of it too and he would send it to my parents, my friends and even Nathan if I didn't do what he wanted."

Fear is coursing continuously through my veins. "What did he want you to do?"

"He wanted something in exchange of those pictures and videos," Emma replies. She isn't crying anymore but I am now more worried for her.

"What?"

The sound of her exhaling loudly runs in the line. "You."

For a second, I lose the sense of my body. I am sure I am not hearing correctly. This is not possible, but if it is, then things are taking a really ugly turn.

"He said he has been following you for a year." My feet are unable to support me anymore so I slid down to the ground, a hand on my head. "But he couldn't ever find you alone. There was always someone around. It was getting hard for him to get to you so...so he thought of using me, as I was an easier target. He thought once got to me, I could bring you to him...and..."

I look up at the ceiling. My throat feels dry and I am not sure if I can form any word right now. But right now, I have to think about Emma. I have to say something to make her think that we can get over this, together. "Em, we need to tell this to mom and dad. They're the only one that can help. This is way too big for us to handle this ourself."

"There's nothing left to be handled anyway." A voice full of despair answers. "I can't let them know of what I did. I can't have them thinking bad of me. And Nathan...he can't...he just can't know that I-I chea- no. I can't have that."

Even though I know it that there is hardly anything I can do, I still ask, "Em, what are we gonna do?"

"You aren't going to do anything," she answers, in that lifeless, variation-less voice again. "I know a way. All you gotta do is to promise me you are never going to mention of any of this to anyone. Promise me."

I know it's wrong what she's asking me to do. We need to tell someone, but I am afraid how she'll react if I say no. "I promise, Em. I promise," I tell her. "But what are you planning to do?"

"Can't tell you that now," she says, and sniffles. "Okay, I gotta go. I need to do something."

The way she says it, that she needs to do something, there's something horribly off in it. "Wh-what are you...Em, don't do anything stupid."

"Stupid or not, it's the only way," she answers, without wasting even a second. "Needs to be done. All you gotta do is keep your promise. Never say a word to anyone."

"Never," I repeat in a whisper. "Do you think he'll come after me too?"

Just as the words are out of my words, I feel like an utter selfish bitch.

"Leave that town. Make mom and dad move somewhere else. But just don't tell anyone." I nod my head, even though she can't see me. "He was after you. Why did I-" and then she starts crying again, and sounds like she's mumbling more to herself than to me. "Why did I get involved? I don't deserve this...I don't deserve this...I wasn't supposed to...he was after you..."

And I can try to deny it, but there is an accusation in her voice, intentional or not, but it's still there, heavy, thick and clear. 

What she means to be saying was that, it isn't supposed be her to get tangled in this situation, it's me. I am the one who should have been in her place.

"I know," the words escape my lips without any control of mine over them.

"Bye, Norah," she says and then the line goes dead and the sudden silence is painfully sharp, slicing something inside.

Half an hour later, I am still sitting on the ground with my phone clutched tightly in my hand, when a loud scream tears through the silence of the house. I still don't move when Dad barges in my room, out of breath, telling me we had to rush to Coral Hills immediately.

There has been an accident. Emma's car ran off a bridge, my father tells me.

I am not in shock. No, it's something way bigger than just a shock. In fact I am uncertain if the things happening are even real as I follow mom and dad as they sprint through the hospital door. I can't keep up with their pace, I don't even want to. As I slowly make my way to the Intensive Care unit, there are these white spots that flash in front of my eyes. They hinder my vision, but I keep walking.

I stop when I see Nathan, with my grandparents. There are many more people around, here for Emma. Her friends, Nate's friends, the rest of our family, the neighbours. It's packed.

My parents ask something, and my Grandpa answers. He's still in his priest clothes.

There's a ringing noise in my ear and I can't even make out a word what everyone around me is saying. It's all whispers to me. 

But then Nathan sees me, standing away from everyone. He rushes to my side, pulls me in an embrace, and whispers, "I'm so sorry."

The sound of the whispers grows louder.

Louder.

Louder.

Louder, till it actually starts to hurt and the white spots take over completely, and the world spins way too fast. I feel nauseated and then with just a final flash of white, I lose sense of everything.

'Never say a word to anyone.'

It's been three months since that day. 

Mom has left, Dad and I have moved to his parents' house, I haven't talked to Anya since. In short, life is a mess.

I don't go out, just hide all day in Em's room here. I can't sleep anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I see her funeral. Her face, when they were descending her coffin down in the ground, is etched in my mind and is persistant not to leave. Her body lied in a bed of roses as everyone was saying goodbye to her, praying that she gets to heaven safely.

The girl had already gone through hell in her last days. Hardly think going to heaven was going to make up for it. Nothing is going to make up for it.

How come no one else noticed she was having such a hard time? How could they easily categorize it as an accident? I was screaming inside, for someone to realize that things weren't as simple as an accident. I can't break my last promise made to her, but I still want someone to find out everything. The weight of the secret is killing me.

But no one ever realizes...

I feel a sharp pain in my chest every time I think of it. The people at the grief support say that it will pass away. It's the same for everyone there. Every single person in those meeting has lost someone.

I can't bring myself to believe that, so I don't understand why I am being made to go to these meetings. Besides, the only reason I go there is because there's this guy over there who sells me the Aderall pills that keep me awake all night, safe from the nightmares.

Aside from the cigarettes, the pills are my only lifeline now.

Nathan disapproves of that. More likely, he disapproves of everything I do lately. He has made his life mission to save me from, what everyone thinks is, my downward spiral which will end in a doom.

I couldn't care less.

But I do care about what's happening to Nathan. He doesn't paints anymore, says he has lost the will to. He tries to be strong for everyone, but as if the helplessness behind his eyes can be hidden so easily.

It's like he doesn't know the reason why he's still breathing.

Neither do I. Who am I still alive for?

And then every single time he talks of Emma, I wonder if he would be different if he knew that she cheated on him and paid the price of it by giving away her life, because she couldn't agree to what that guy asked her to.

All these things keep tormenting my brain every second of the day.

Will this torture ever end?

It's been over a year and half now, and something happened today again which has made me to stand in front of the mirror and stare at it for an hour. 

Granny called me Emma again. At first, I thought it was an accident but now I am realizing, maybe it's not. She still misses her and searches for her in me. After all, Em was much closer to her that I could ever be. She had raised her when she refused to move with us.

And it's not just Granny. I feel like sometimes, dad, grandpa, Nathan look at me just to have a glimpse of the girl they all lost.

The thing is that I am not even mad. It's what things should actually be like. Emma should be here, I shouldn't.

I stare at my eyes in the mirror for so long that I could almost see her too; still accusing me for her death.

I take out one of her old dresses from her closet, which still remains untouched even after all this time, and put it on. It's nothing like anything I've ever worn. 

From the desk kept nearby, I grab a pair of scissors and poise it near the hair at my shoulder, wanting to cut it just as short as Emma used to wear her hair. As the snipping goes on, my long hair fall slowly fall on the floor and when I am done, I am almost certain I am looking at a picture of her. The only difference is that my hair is much lighter than her, otherwise it's not me standing there anymore. It's her.

And then and there I decide that I'll go back to Cassell Brook. I can't hide here forever. I am the one who was supposed to suffer the pain my twin did, so I would go back and wait. Wait for my punishment to come.

It will come. He will come for me.

And from now on, I am going to live my life like Emma would have. I will become like her so she is not missed. I will keep doing that until...

Just like it was originally supposed to be.

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There was a loud blare of the horn from the timber log loaded truck that lumbered past Daniel's car, the red light from its tail lights scattering on the windscreen. Shifting on my seat, I turned my head to look at him.

Still nothing.

Except for telling me to get in the car, there had been nothing else that he had said till now. Not a single word.

Chewing on my lower lip, I turned back to the mist covered window. 

It wasn't feeling real anymore. The realization that the thing I had held onto for so long, now someone else knew about it too. My own mind felt inscrutable to me, like it was locked and I didn't know what was going inside. But from what I could tell, I knew that I felt scared, which was explainable, but I also felt a sense of liberation somewhere buried under the more persistent dark thoughts of 'what now?'.

And I could have had more to work with, about if my decision was correct or not, if I would have gotten a plausible reaction from Daniel, because by now both his withheld silence and the sound of only the wipers against the glass were starting to irk me, a lot.

Okay, this was it now.

"Daniel, I-" 

And the two words were barely out of my mouth, when the car picked up acceleration at a terrifying rate. The force pushed me deep in the seat, and I had to clutch onto the dashboard to stay in place.

The car sped up further, definitely having passed the speed limit moments ago. All the lights, yellow, red, everything was blurring together. I was afraid that we were going to slam into something when the car was suddenly steered off the freeway, and then a sound of tires screeching loudly took over the air as the car came to a sudden and abrupt halt.

The car might have stopped. but my heartbeat was still not done imitating its earlier dangerous speed, to such an extent that I could actually hear it beating.

I kept my eyes fixed on the tree truck in front of us, which we would have crashed against had Daniel not pulled the brakes in time.

One. Two. Three.

Deep Breaths.

My pulse rate was calming down, but I still felt light-headed, plus the hangover from last night didn't help.

For a good minute, I focused on breathing in and out, and after that I couldn't help but shriek, "What the hell! What were you, trying to get us killed?!"

Till now, he was calmly looking out of the windshield. After my freak out, he turned towards me, the calmness from his face not budging. "No, I was just making you see what it feels like dying."

I blinked. "What?"

"That's what you want, right?" And now the expected reaction was coming, finally. "That's what your master plan is. You're waiting for that psychopath to make you suffer until you do exactly what your sister did."

"I'm not-"

"Really?" He dropped his head to the side, eyes narrowed and swirling with disbelief. "Isn't it so? Because that's exactly what I gathered from what you told me."

I clenched my jaw shut, staring in the space.

"Say something, Norah!"

I didn't.

I heard him curse under his breath.

"Either you're gonna talk or else you're going to hate me for what I might do." He was resolute with his words.

"Or else what, you're gonna tell everything to my parents?" I spoke with grit teeth.

He didn't reply but the silence was an answer in itself.

"Don't you even dare!"

"So what the hell do you expect me to do?!" He burst-out. "What am I supposed to do nothing, knowing that some fucking creep out there might be after you?"

The urge to yell back was huge, but I pushed it back. "I did what I thought was right at that time."

"And what about now? Do you still think you did the right thing?" A sudden drop in his voice, with an expectation that I would say no. "Coming back here, so that he could get to you too."

"He's probably left the town. It's been three years, if were to come, he would have."

"That's not what I asked," a huge disappointment was there in his voice.

"I want to go home," I demanded.

"And that's what I intend to once you answer me," he countered, the patience slipping away again.

"Stop ordering me, okay?" I almost yelled. "I am not going to answer because I know you're not gonna like what I have to say."

"I'm not a fool, alright?" he replied in the same tone as mine. "I know what your answer is. I just want you to say it out loud because I don't think you even completely realize the level of craziness of the decision you've taken for yourself."

I tried not to yell this time. "It's the right one."

"Since when is putting yourself out for practically a sacrifice become the right decision?" He asked with disbelief.

"You don't get it." I gulped down the knot in my throat. "You didn't listen to her talk for the last time, accusing that it was all my fault. You have no idea what it felt like!"

"It's not your fault," he exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I find it impossible to believe that," I replied, my voice quavering, and I was afraid that I might start crying soon.

I quickly turned to the window to wipe away the single tear that had escaped from my eyes.

He didn't say anything for a while. I was debating that either he was giving me time to get a hold of myself or was coming up something to say that could change my mind. Or maybe it was both.

"There has to be a way that you need to forgive your self." There was a grim feel to the way he said it, as if knowing already what the nature of my answer was going to be.

A humorless chuckle came out of my mouth. "What if I say the same thing for you. Would you believe it then?" I argued, after getting a control of my tear ducts. "You haven't forgiven yourself or your mom about James. So how could you think that it would be possible for me to do it so easily?"

He looked at me, like I had just said the most unbelievable words ever to be uttered by anyone. "That is different!"

"Yeah? How?" I met the force of his words with just as much gusto. "If anything what I have done is far worse than your mom or you. So tell me how is it different?!"

"You're twisting this whole thing up!" He was annoyed, I could tell.

"I'm not," I answered calmly, my energy crashing down. "All I am saying is that if you couldn't forgive yourself or your own mother after all these years, what makes me the deserving of my sister's forgiveness?"

"I don't hold her responsible anymore."

I almost chuckled, a sans humor one again, obviously. "Really?"

I brought my head up, to search in his eyes the truth of what he had said. 

I didn't find any.

"Like I said," I whispered to myself, and breathing a heavy sigh, I opened the door and got out of the car.

"Where are you going?" I heard him yell, as I started to walk away from the car.

"Home!" I announced, not turning back. "I am gonna walk."

"Don't be ridiculous! Your house if halfway across the town from here!"

I rolled my eyes. "I'll manage," I called back, hoping that he wouldn't follow me. I desperately needed to be alone right now. "Go home and try not to over think about this too much."

"Just so you know this is not over yet," he said it like a challenge. "So don't make the mistake of thinking so."

Ever noticed how half of the time we were just threatening each other?

I didn't bother to reply, and just quickened my pace to get to home sooner, but the heels and the cold wind howling around me was making it hard to even walk. By the time I reached in front of my house, my teeth were chattering and goosebumps were all over my skin.

I knew I couldn't enter through the main door, because if seen dad wouldn't believe that I wore this kind of dress to school. And I wasn't in the mood of making up a new set of lies. So I had to ask Nathan to unlock the back door.

He agreed to it without asking anything but needless to say, he wasn't very happy being my partner in the crime.

Changing quickly, I went down for the dinner, during which dad didn't say much. Of course, he knew something was up. I would be stupid to think that my father won't question my absence of almost twenty four hours, but I was glad that he didn't say anything about it. I would deal with it later.

By ten in the night, dad was in his study, probably just avoiding me, and Nathan disappeared in the guest room on the ground floor.

After missing school today, what I should have done is to catch up on my work, but what I actually felt like doing was grab a pack of smoke.

So I did. I took another pack from my diminishing stash and walked out of the door to walk over to my old bedroom's balcony so that no one could catch up on the stench.

I switched on the lights of the usually abandoned room. Everything there always remained just like it used to all those years ago, so the addition of something new immediately caught my attention.

It was the Jon Cooper violin dad brought for me few days ago. I never even bothered to find where he had kept it. 

I felt a twitch in my fingers. Tossing the idea of smoking aside, I picked up the violin case and searched the cabinets to find my old rosin, hoping that it could still be of some use. I found it buried under stack of tired looking music sheets, poems and old school work, all of them lying the same way since I last saw them.

The night air was even more frigid than earlier as I settled on the wrought iron chair and brought the violin out of its case. When the strings were prime, I placed the lower back of the violin on my collar bone and held it with my jaw, and as I brought the bow to hover over the strings to begin, I got this wave of pure nostalgia, like meeting an old friend which once you held equivalent to life.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and allowed my fingers to pick the first note of whichever piece they wanted. And of course, they picked the Chinese concerto, Butterfly Lovers.

The strings were new and not very properly primed, so the first few notes came out painfully squeaky, but after some strokes they started arriving like the way they were supposed to be to form the soft intro and then the transition to the rest of the melody.

Slightly opening one eye,  I peeked at Nathan leaning against the door frame and then closed them once again.

I couldn't explain what made this piece my favorite to play. For anything, you couldn't even play the whole song without being in a full orchestra. It needed a violin, a cello, flute, harp and whatnot, certainly not making it one of the "pure violin" pieces.

I guess it was the story behind the music that had enchanted my five year old self.

A beautiful story of how a girl falls in love with a boy, and the boy, even though a little late, falls in love with the girl too. They see a few beautiful days together until they are torn apart. The boy, not being able to endure the pain of separation, loses his life and the day that the girl was married off to someone else, the grave of the boy opens up and she willing jumps into it, ending her short life too.

Quite a traumatic story for the mind of a pre-schooler, if you ask me. But there was some kind of satisfaction in that sadness, knowing that those two people died loving each other and maybe found each other in death.

And maybe that was exactly what drew me to the story. The way it ended. After all, tragedy does have a certain appeal to it.

But not being a five year old anymore, the one fascinated by the old tale, today I thought of the boy standing just a feet away from me.

He had a story too.

The story of how as a little boy, he fell in love with a girl, and like it does in every fairytale, the girl was just as in love with him as he was. They spent a few beautiful years until the girl made a mistake that she paid for in terms of her life. She is gone, but the boy still remains here. Years, after years, his days pass on, with him having just a consolation in his heart that she loved him faithfully until her last breath.

Now if he only knew.

So as the music preceded into the fast passages, I wondered.

Whose story was more tragic?

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A loooooooooog chapter, right?

Phew! I am so glad that I am done writing this chapter. It felt like ages finishing it but it's finally done. Yay!

And I hope you liked it, and if there were some rough edges to the writing it was because I was in a hurry to get this one out 'cause either it was today or somewhere in the first week of January and I didn't want you guys to wait for so long, so you will agree that I took the better decision, right? And beside I'll revise this chapter soon for the mistakes and any cringe-worthy sentences. =P

And now coming onto the chapter, I know that Daniel didn't handle her confession in the way that he should have but I really wanted a character who is not very good at handling these situation because let's admit it, many of us would mess up to if put in his situation.

Also it was a heavy kind of chapter, eh? But the next ones will be more light-hearted ones. Okay, I can promise about the next one, but I have some evil plans for the one after that. You might even hate me for it. Muahaha. =P

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