"I no longer see my open fields flooded far and wide with cherry blossoms and all the green sparrows have flown away."

- Tufayl Myburgh, Utopian Dystopia 2.

Warning: Mention of Rape, self harm.

I pined pandemonium, I pined destruction; even though I knew my soul would not be able to survive it.

Rose's POV:

The cacophony of night blended into the carapace of the opaque sky, the hoots of the nocturnal intermingled with the murmurs of shivering dry leaves- hearkening the dead of the night. The moon shied away, hiding itself behind the conglomeration of the grey clouds

Something warm, something wet ran down my cheeks, I was shivering.

I stared into his azure eyes, unmoving, unflinching. I watched as his pupils dilated, it was as if a rivulet streamed in his eyes.

He stared at me, frozen, motionless, as if, someone had robbed him of his last shred of vanity and breath. His skin became paler, almost a ghostly shade.

It was hard to talk about it, to even think about it.

It happened 23 years ago, I was 6 back then, barely conscious of what was happening to me. I was pretty sure that I wouldn't be able to recall the whole ordeal even if I tried to.

The memories were deeply embedded into my mind, like stubborn scars. The events were blurry, hazy- I couldn't even remember his face. I only recall his mustache and the hungry look in his eyes as he touched me.....

But I could clearly see him in my nightmares.

I looked away from the beautiful man, not being able to bear his sight. My foster father lived in my mind and his torment had only triggered the memories.

Pain ran within my blood, deep in my veins. I was as used to it as much as I was used to my heart beating. I could feel it to the point it became tangible.

And Marienne Carlisle Victor was one of the reasons for my pain.

I clenched my fists, closing my eyes tightly, shaking my head. My mouth opened, to suck in a breath of air. Tears fell as another gust of summer breeze blew.

My mind was a jumbled mess. My body shook as I tried to suppress the painful memories. Why was he asking me this? Why was he pressing the knife deeper into my wounds that were already open?

Hadn't he done enough?

That monsters, my foster father's touch was deeply embedded into my skin. From time to time I would abrade my skin raw, just to get his touch off from there. I would stand under the scorching spray of water- to unfeel that grotesque feeling.

"D-Don't ever-" My voice shook as I opened my eyes, "Never-"

I felt a shaky, warm hand being placed over my clenched one. My eyes shot there, taking in the callous, huge hand that was quivering.

His hand covered mine completely, I could feel his harsh pulse over the back of my hand, I could feel the small staccatos of tremors that ran along his blood. I could sense how unstable his heart rate was.

I slowly looked up at him.

Tears ran down his cheek, his eyes glowing like ocean under the elegant effulgence. His mouth was slightly open as he sucked in small gasps of breath, his lower lip quivered at the intensity of the emotions he was feeling.

I stared into his eyes. I could feel my tensed fist relaxing under his touch.

"I-" He uttered, hoarsely. I could feel the misery radiating off him.

Why was he miserable?

He should not be this shocked at a news he knew.....

I looked deeper into his eyes, gazing into his soul. He was indeed, shocked, terrified. He was cluttered, disheveled.

My eyes widened as my mouth became drier.

Could it be that..... he didn't.....

It's impossible.

My hand unclenched on it's own accord as we stared into each other's eyes, his expression becoming more and more frantic by passing moments.

"Pl-Please-" His lips quivered as he stared directly into my eyes, silent tears rolling down his cheeks, a droplet or two fell on our joined hands, "T-Tell me this is a-"

I shook my head, silently, not being able to comprehend the situation.

He did his research on me, so, how come he didn't know-

Was that crime never listed, never reported?

Or was it buried forever?

How many crimes like these were buried forever?

"Marienne-" I whispered in a broken voice, silently urging myself to manage enough courage to ask that question, a breath of warm breeze blew, ruffling both of our hair, "You didn't know?"

"No...."

I felt his hand tighten around mine.

Suddenly, even so suddenly, I felt this urge to catch his tears, feel it on my fingertips. I brought up my other hand, silently catching a drop of his tear. It felt warm on my cold hand.

His expression morphed into one of shock, as he watched me. I closed my palm, caging the drop there.

"Why are you crying?" I questioned, my voice not a single octave above a whisper.

He closed his eyes, retracting his hand.

"I-If-" He whispered, "If I say- anything-" He gulped, opening his eyes, his eyes darkening, "Would it not irk you?"

Would it?

It would, but he clearly was struggling.

It was a grotesque sight, one wouldn't know how devastated he looked if they wouldn't see him.

His skin was ghostly pale, eyes red, tears streaming, his giant form quivering like a dry leaf in autumn.

At this moment, I wished to be alone. I wished to cry myself to another nightmare. I was used to this.

I noticed small beads of sweat forming over his temple.

But then again, I promised myself that one day, I would overcome this, I would fight it. I would leave the past behind me and head on to a brighter day.

My hand instinctively went over to my belly.

I promised myself to become better by the time this baby was born.

Even I had to fight with each of my demons, I would do it.

I had to do it.

So, despite my reluctance, I shook my head ever so slowly.

I will fight my demons for my baby.

"I know it would-" Shock coursed through me as he whispered, one of his shaky hands came up as touched the side of my cheek. My eyes widened as he read straight through my lies.

"You don't have to be this good to a monster like me-" He let his hand fall, like he had touched something forbidden, "I- want to say a lot of words as an apology- but the truth is-" He took a deep breath, looking away.

"The truth is, nothing would ever be enough, no matter what I try, I know that. P-Please-" He begged in a broken voice, "Please don't burden me with your conscience. I can't handle it, I don't deserve it."

My throat clogged up as I observed him silently.

He was speaking the bitter truth.

I don't think I could ever forgive him.

I can't forget the days he kept me locked up, I can't forget the lashes of the belt, I still bear those marks.

Even if I tried I couldn't.

What pained me the most, that he was referring himself as a monster- it wasn't a lie.

He smiled at me, the anguish shined in it. I could see the sea of grief he was in, I felt like, if I reached out and touched him, he would crumble into pieces.

"Go...." He mouthed at me, his voice lost into the crevasse of his own darkness.

I nodded.

Was it really okay to leave him?

"Do you want to-" I stammered, not wanting to leave him alone.

Call it an insinuation or a feeling- I could help but think that something would go wrong if I left him.

He nodded, focusing on the gloomy sky.

Another drop of tear escaped his eyes. I stood up, my legs shaky. I wanted to be left alone too.... but.....

I took slow steps to the glass door. My heart tugging, the strings pulling me back- but I prevented myself.

If he wished to be left alone, I had no right to object. We weren't close enough to comfort each other.

What a lie.

Deep down, I knew, through this whole ordeal, we became something conflicting to each other.

I knew my presence tore him apart, but it also comforted him. He knew that his presence bothered me, but he also knew that I felt oddly safe with him.

...Did he?

I slid the glass door with my shaky hand, trying not to look back at him.

But I couldn't help myself.

I turned at him, for a brief moment, for a brief glance- only to find him already staring at me.

He gave me a strained smile as he looked away.

He seems okay.

I stepped out of the balcony and slowly let myself out of the room, thousands of thoughts fleeting around my mind like a jumbled mess.

No matter how much I tried to get back up on my legs, deep down I knew, under my calm carapace, I would always remain a broken, fragile chimera.

I let myself out of the room, slowly walking to the elevator, my feet staggering. I touched the back of my right hand, the anxious feeling growing by each passing moments.

His touch still lingered, it still burned on my derm.

Like a celibate, sacred fire, this burn embedded itself into my skin, making my heart clench with warmth.

Why did it feel like this?

I suddenly became restless. My heart palpated, I sweated. I looked back at the huge gate that led to Marienne's room. I stopped for a moment, contemplating whether I should go in or not.

Should I go back?

Should I go back and tell him I was used to the pain?

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I couldn't just push the feeling away.

Before I knew, I was stomping to the room, my anxiety growing by each passing moment.

Call it sensibility of my sub conscious, but I knew something was bound to go wrong.

I pushed the door open.

I flinched as the glaring light of the room filled my vision. Blinking, I focused on the figure that rested on the floor.

My eyes widened in horror, it felt like my heart had stopped for a moment.

Blood.

Red.

That was the first thing that registered in my mind. A gasp escaped me as tremors of shocks ran in my body. I pressed a hand over my mouth as I let myself in slowly.

"Marienne-" A prayer in disguise of a whisper escaped me, my thoughts riveted. everything seemed like a blurry haze, a chaos, a sob escaped me.

The blood flowed in a small trail, I focused on the narrow, scarlet stream that slowly ran along the white marbled floor.

I saw a blur of silhouette behind the bed. It's head was sunken, it's shoulders shook with the shock of soft, silent sobs.

My legs carried me, my mind too numb to even comprehend what's happening. I ran to the figurine- I ran to save him.

"Marienne!" A holler left me, pushing through the barrier of my shock and restraint. Nothing mattered anymore.

He sat up straight, a metal fell on the floor with a loud thud. Before he could hide his bloodied hand, he came into my view.

He looked up at me, his blue eyes widened with naked shock- tears ceased but I noticed the new ones streaming silently down his cheeks. His face was red, from blood. The vein in his neck popped up, his hair was disheveled.

His white shirt was stained by blood.

I stared at his hand numbly.

Was I crying?

I didn't know.

Where did this affection come from, I didn't know.

Why did this affection come for a monster, a beast, I didn't know.

All I knew was the hurt that shot through me as I took in the sight. Before I knew, I was kneeling in front of him, grasping the bed tightly.

"Rose..." He whispered, staring into my eyes.

I stared at him accusingly, my body shivering from the perturbation. I neared him, focusing on his bloody hand.

"Let me see...." I sniffled.

He opened his clenched palm without any objections. I sat beside him, taking his wounded hand in mine, a drop of tear fell just beside his open wound.

My hands that held his, shook. I didn't know what to feel.

Relief that he didn't run it through his artery?

Or anger that he did this in the first place?

I stroked the pale skin just beside his wound with my thumb, my heart breaking into pieces.

"You have no right...." I whispered as I held his hand like the most fragile piece of glass, "You have no right...."

"Rose-"

I stared up at him, anger coursing through my veins. My jaw clenched as I tried my hardest not to slap him right there.

"YOU HAVE NO FUCKING RIGHT!!" I cursed, screaming- tears streamed down my eyes, I felt a numb pain shooting in my forehead. My teeth clenched as I cried.

"Rose I-"

"SHUT UP!" I panted, struggling to breathe, my lungs burning, "WHAT IF YOU-"

I stared down at his wounded palm, still stroking it with my thumb, "What if you-"

"Rose." I stared up at him, my tears blurring my vision. I felt a warm, callous hand on the side of my cheek. More tears fell, clearing my vision.

Him and me.... we... were a mess.

His eyes held a soft look in them, the darkness that had been there moments before I had left, no longer existed.

His eyes were a shade of pellucid ocean.

"Did you not think about your child for a moment?" I inquired, searching for the answer in his pale turquoise eyes, "Did it never occur to you?"

I sniffled violently, wiping away my tears. I couldn't cry, I didn't want to cry anymore. I had to show him that I was strong enough and call out on his bullshit.

"How did you even think about this?!" I inquired, my voice breaking at the end.

"I am sorry."

"NO!" I looked up at him, fuming, "SORRY DOESN'T DO IT! YOU SAID YOURSELF!"

"I am sorry."

I shook my head.

Don't cry!

"Sorry doesn't do it!" I cried, "Why would you do this? You yourself said you didn't cut yourself!"

His hand stroked the side of my face, making me look up. I sniffled, my lips quivering.

His eyes held warmth and something else. It was something I had never seen, it was so explicit.

"I did."

More tears streamed down my eyes, I brought my hand up, touching his, pressing it more into my cheeks.

"Why?" I whispered.

"Because I deserve it..." He smiled at me gently.

How dare he....

How dare he act as if self harming was okay?

I wiped away my tears furiously, pinning him with a dirty look, "No one deserves it! Why would you do it?!"

He smiled, tears glistening in his eyes, his dimples appearing.

"You are smiling!!" I wailed, "How could you shrug it off just like that?! I am saying that whatever you did WAS NOT RIGHT! I-"

"Why did you come back?" He questioned softly, caressing my face.

"Because I had a feeling-"

"A feeling..." He mumbled, more like to himself.

"No! Don't divert the topic!" I seethed, "You can't do that! What if you tried to- what if it-"

"I wanted to do it..." He mumbled, "I wanted to take my life and I planned on doing it as soon as you walk out of that door- but I-"

I stared at him.

He breathed, looking at me, "I couldn't. I thought about our son, I didn't want him to go through what I had gone through."

"And what if he didn't exist?" I inquired, giving him an accusing look, "What then?"

"Then my life would have stopped long ago."

My breath hitched.

This was something familiar, very familiar about this situation.

My life would have stopped long ago.

I stared at him, unable to think or come up with anything at all.

I, too, would have ended my life long ago if it wasn't for the life growing in me.

Both of us were living for this life growing in me.

"Why?" I whispered, "Why not give life a chance?"

"I don't have a life in the first place to allow it a chance..." His voice matched mine.

"Still...." I grasped his hand tightly that was on my cheek, "We all deserve a chance."

"Not all of us-" He stared down at me, "Not people like me."

It bothered me how serious his voice sounded.

"Chances can only be given if you allow it-"

"That is the problem.." He smiled, closing his eyes, "I wouldn't allow myself to destroy another life."

My heart stopped for a moment. My fear was true.

He did think he was responsible for all those lives.

"You didn't destroy them-" I breathed, "They destroyed themselves."

He gently shook his head.

"I am someone who wasn't supposed to be born in the first place-" He maundered.

I shook my head, "It's not true."

"I am someone who was created to destroy."

I neared him until negligible inches separated us. He let his hand fall as I retrieved mine from his and slowly brought it up to stroke the side of his jaw.

He closed his eyes, letting out a breath.

"No one was created to destroy-" He opened his eyes slowly, they shone with unadulterated pain, "No one was born to be evil."

Why was I consoling him?

Where was my conscience?

Or was it because I saw a reflection of a broken me in his deep oceanic eyes?

Did I see him as someone who could share my pain?

"Why do you speak stuff like these?" He whispered like as if he was agitated about my statements, "Why do you speak stuff that are untrue?"

I smiled despite the raging turmoil inside me, "They are true. You are true. If you were truly evil, you wouldn't feel remorse or regret. If you were truly a monster you claim to be, you would have abandoned me. Yet, you brought me here from your sheer conscience."

His mouth parted slightly, he observed me like he was in awe.

"I am sorry."

"Stop saying sorry, okay?" I mumbled, looking down at his hand. His wound, thankfully had stopped bleeding and I couldn't be happier about it.

"It's okay-" I mumbled, stroking his hand with both of mine, "If you ever have any thoughts like this again, I will be here to listen to you. Just don't tr- hmph."

I was stopped in the midsentence as I was engulfed into a tight, warm embrace. He held onto me like his dear life depended on it, like he was holding onto his last piece of his pure soul.

"Marienne."

His grip on me tightened, almost painfully. Like he was reveling in something.

At that moment, a heavy realization dawned upon me. None could be a better support to us rather than ourselves. Both of us were damaged beyond repair and both of us needed to heal.

The twine of pain that bounded us, brought us a bit closer.

"You are worth more than anything-" I whispered.

I brought my hands up and hugged him back, smiling as I did. What he needed was comfort and I could give it to him.

Was I doing it for myself?

I had mama, I had Calissa, why was I seeking my solace in him?

Someone who had damaged me?

Was it because I knew it wasn't him?

Or was it because I knew he knew how it felt to be an outcast?

I remember times when I needed comfort, I remember times when no one was there to give me some. I could sense how desperate he must have been for those words.

He ailed to hear those words I had uttered previously, but he was too afraid to admit it.

I felt something wet on my shoulder, his body shook with soft sobs. He was crying before, but now I witnessed as he completely broke into my arms.

How did I know these you ask?

I had been in his place for so long. For so long, I longed to hear that I wasn't messed up. I tried to convince myself that I had a normal childhood, which I didn't have.

Imagining him going through just that- I knew he was like me.

Even though he was too scared to admit it.

I stroked his back softly.

Just emotional benefits.

Emotional benefits.

Both of us were a crying mess, desperate for some comfort.

Did we find it within each other?

I didn't know.

If We did, did it bother me?

It did, but I could only hope that my wounds were healable.

"Where is the first aid kit?" I whispered.

I felt his grip tighten a little bit more.

Then he uttered, with a voice as soft as silk. It was barely there- but still, I heard it.

"Don't go."

I frowned, "Your wounds will be infected-"

"I don't care-" He breathed, mumbling, "Stay here please. I beg of you."

So I did.

Why did I do it? I had no idea.

I was conflicted with myself.

Emotional support, I told myself.

Marienne Carlisle Victor could understand my pain, it was for selfish benefits.

And for a selfish reason, I let myself be a fool and let myself be comforted by a man who had tormented me.

I just didn't want him to break down again.

I stayed in his embrace, silently comforting him.

My eyes started to grow heavy, As I let my hands fall beside me. Suddenly, I felt tired, too tired to stay awake. Maybe it was the mood swings, maybe it was the crying- but I felt completely drained.

My breathing grew heavier as I stayed there- not having any sense of time.

What was the point of staying awake anyway?

I felt him shifting, as he took me in his arms. Warmth engulfed me as I snuggled more into him. The last thing I heard before I fell into the chasm of darkness was his soft whisper.

"Thank you...

..For everything, Rose."

Thoughts on this chapter?

The song?

Was Rose right to comfort him?

Should she have left him?

How was the writing style? Was it painful enough?

Do you think Rose was correct?

LEMME KNOW! Thank you for reading! Please vote, comment, follow, share! Support me on booknet. Much love!

Rewritten.