White_Roses2
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- May 22, 2009
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Prologue
I stand alone in the dark night. This is the way it would be for me. Forever. At least, in this world.
It was the lake. I left my simple village house in the night to drink from the Sacred Lake. I was told that anyone who drank from the Sacred Lake would be blessed.
But it wasn’t that easy.
I wasn’t good enough. I had evil in my heart. The evil could be spreading throughout me because of one simple thing.
Her name was Aura. She rested in the lake, being the spirit of it. She sensed the evil in my heart. She came and took me to the depths, where I drowned.
When I awoke what seemed like moments later, the sky that surrounded me was dark with neither stars nor moon. I didn’t ask for a death like this. The Gods above shoved it into my senseless hands.
I am Arabella Hope Willow, though the hope I held in my heart is now gone.
I can’t see a thing. The forest around me is dead. There are no leaves, though the stars and moon are vacant. I begin to walk forward into the dark night. I walk for miles, tripping over the dead roots. This is my hell. In darkness that I am so afraid of, I must push on. There must be some escape.
I am only a young woman of the age of nineteen. No one ever loved me. No one cared about me. I was completely alone. My afterlife resides here, in my own personal hell.
There is only one problem. I’m not dead. I’m cursed.
My vision suddenly fades from the vast colourless forest that I had accepted as my afterlife. I awake in a lake that can only be identified as one thing: The River of Passing.
The spirits of the river take the dead into their grasp. We are bound to the river’s ground by invisible chains, though any body that is laid to rest in this sacred place is one whose soul has been released. Mine had been, but it found it’s way back.
I move my gaze to the shining surface, though I can only see water around me in every direction.
My head snaps towards the sound of a splash. The pale figure moves forwards to me. My mouth opens to an empty scream for help. I can’t breathe. He could save me, though by then I would be in another world.
His hands touch my shoulders. I don’t get a look at his face before I die a second death.
My eyes close only to see the forest again. Though I am dead, I will come back, hoping to have a breath. Everything here now is suffocating. Nothing is right. My white hair stands out all too much in the darkness, my reddish eyes shining in the despair. The forest is lifeless and silent around me, engulfing me in its death. The blackened wood screams out for help, thought I can’t do anything, even if I am a wood elf. This is my hell.
I awaken into a colourful view. The water brushes against the white dress that covers my body. Warmth holds me tightly. Wet hair sticks to my face. I spit water out of my mouth and take a deep breath. The fresh air fills my lungs. Everything here is right, though every time I die I will return to a lifeless torture. I am truly cursed. Everything that can go wrong will go wrong; that is, unless, I find a path from the life after my unplanned death.
I roll over, away from the water, spreading across soft green grass. My dress sticks to my wet body.
“And they didn’t believe me when I told them you were alive.”
My eyes snap open. I pull myself up slowly into a sitting position and bury my hands into the grass.
“That’s because I wasn’t,” I tell the boy sitting next to me. He’s soaked, but I can still tell who he is. He’s the Prince. Damien Nolan. He stands up and offers me his hand. I take it, pulling myself up. He hands me his jacket, which I draw over my shoulders.
“I don’t understand what you mean?”
I turn my head to him and brush my hair off my face. “I was dead. I’m cursed. Stuck in the walls between life and death, and I still have contact to the outside. Any minute now, I’ll pass out again, I’ll be dead. Then I’ll be pushed out through the windows again. I drowned in the Sacred Lake of my village simply because I wasn’t good enough to be blessed.”
He seems speechless. His mouth hangs open as if he wants to say something, but no sound comes out.
“What is it?” I ask him simply.
“I don’t know,” He replies after a long pause, “All I know is that I can’t help you get out of that without you letting go of your life.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The legend says when you fulfill all the regrets you had in your life, you are able to rest in peace and possibly be re-incarnated.”
I say nothing. I just stare at the ground. How can I fulfill my regrets if my life is not yet finished?
I stand alone in the dark night. This is the way it would be for me. Forever. At least, in this world.
It was the lake. I left my simple village house in the night to drink from the Sacred Lake. I was told that anyone who drank from the Sacred Lake would be blessed.
But it wasn’t that easy.
I wasn’t good enough. I had evil in my heart. The evil could be spreading throughout me because of one simple thing.
Her name was Aura. She rested in the lake, being the spirit of it. She sensed the evil in my heart. She came and took me to the depths, where I drowned.
When I awoke what seemed like moments later, the sky that surrounded me was dark with neither stars nor moon. I didn’t ask for a death like this. The Gods above shoved it into my senseless hands.
I am Arabella Hope Willow, though the hope I held in my heart is now gone.
I can’t see a thing. The forest around me is dead. There are no leaves, though the stars and moon are vacant. I begin to walk forward into the dark night. I walk for miles, tripping over the dead roots. This is my hell. In darkness that I am so afraid of, I must push on. There must be some escape.
I am only a young woman of the age of nineteen. No one ever loved me. No one cared about me. I was completely alone. My afterlife resides here, in my own personal hell.
There is only one problem. I’m not dead. I’m cursed.
My vision suddenly fades from the vast colourless forest that I had accepted as my afterlife. I awake in a lake that can only be identified as one thing: The River of Passing.
The spirits of the river take the dead into their grasp. We are bound to the river’s ground by invisible chains, though any body that is laid to rest in this sacred place is one whose soul has been released. Mine had been, but it found it’s way back.
I move my gaze to the shining surface, though I can only see water around me in every direction.
My head snaps towards the sound of a splash. The pale figure moves forwards to me. My mouth opens to an empty scream for help. I can’t breathe. He could save me, though by then I would be in another world.
His hands touch my shoulders. I don’t get a look at his face before I die a second death.
My eyes close only to see the forest again. Though I am dead, I will come back, hoping to have a breath. Everything here now is suffocating. Nothing is right. My white hair stands out all too much in the darkness, my reddish eyes shining in the despair. The forest is lifeless and silent around me, engulfing me in its death. The blackened wood screams out for help, thought I can’t do anything, even if I am a wood elf. This is my hell.
I awaken into a colourful view. The water brushes against the white dress that covers my body. Warmth holds me tightly. Wet hair sticks to my face. I spit water out of my mouth and take a deep breath. The fresh air fills my lungs. Everything here is right, though every time I die I will return to a lifeless torture. I am truly cursed. Everything that can go wrong will go wrong; that is, unless, I find a path from the life after my unplanned death.
I roll over, away from the water, spreading across soft green grass. My dress sticks to my wet body.
“And they didn’t believe me when I told them you were alive.”
My eyes snap open. I pull myself up slowly into a sitting position and bury my hands into the grass.
“That’s because I wasn’t,” I tell the boy sitting next to me. He’s soaked, but I can still tell who he is. He’s the Prince. Damien Nolan. He stands up and offers me his hand. I take it, pulling myself up. He hands me his jacket, which I draw over my shoulders.
“I don’t understand what you mean?”
I turn my head to him and brush my hair off my face. “I was dead. I’m cursed. Stuck in the walls between life and death, and I still have contact to the outside. Any minute now, I’ll pass out again, I’ll be dead. Then I’ll be pushed out through the windows again. I drowned in the Sacred Lake of my village simply because I wasn’t good enough to be blessed.”
He seems speechless. His mouth hangs open as if he wants to say something, but no sound comes out.
“What is it?” I ask him simply.
“I don’t know,” He replies after a long pause, “All I know is that I can’t help you get out of that without you letting go of your life.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The legend says when you fulfill all the regrets you had in your life, you are able to rest in peace and possibly be re-incarnated.”
I say nothing. I just stare at the ground. How can I fulfill my regrets if my life is not yet finished?