My hands felt clammy and I felt like throwing up from so much nervousness. The first book 'Unrequited' started with the female main character meeting the male main character on campus. He leaves an impression on her and admits to being attracted to her. Her iron walled heart prevents the blossoming love between them until they temporarily part ways. The female lead experiences things that make the male lead take another action. And this time his efforts were paid as they started what should be their soul bound relationship.
Until he died.
I caught my breath as a tear drops from my eye. It's Harriett's story. Her life story and love story with Leonel. The moments she found precious and the moments she and Leonel had kept to themselves. She had written their secret love story as her first book.
Somehow, my fear grew more instead of dissipating. The first book was about Harriett and Leonel. Her first love.
There are three books and according to Dylan she had scrapped the last manuscript for a new one. Dylan hadn't given me the copy of the last manuscript but I had the feeling that the scrapped manuscript was more important.
As I took the second book my phone rang and Harriett's name was scrawled in front of the screen. I wiped the tears and answered her, I was still inside my car in the parking lot of our apartment.
"Hey Kael?"
"Yea? What's up my love?"
There was a silent pause in the other line and a chuckle escaped from my lips instantly reminiscing how she blushed over that nickname. The call had slipped from my tongue before and she instantly blushed over it.
She had cleared her throat over the line before she stuttered and immediately I knew that something was wrong.
"I… I'm sorry. I… I di… did something again"
I dropped the book and got out of my car, locking it before sprinting towards the elevator. Because one sniffle from her and I knew that she indeed did something to harm herself again.
"I… I'm so…sorry Kael. I really didn't mean to"
She was full-blown crying now as I got out of the elevator and into my apartment. But the moment I stepped in, I knew she wasn't inside because Akira was barking nonstop.
"I… I didn't know how.. I j…just…"
"Harriett where are you?"
I muttered silently, cutting her off, another sniffle as she answered.
"My room"
I sprinted towards her apartment. Her room wasn't done with renovations yet and I understand that, that's where she harms herself even resorting to hanging.
I barged open the front door and found that her bedroom door was unlocked.
Harriett's cries were echoing off the four walls of her bedroom but she wasn't in the bed when I glanced around, I found her in her hobby room. The extending room where all of her paintings were.
"Harriett"
I called as I strode towards her. She was sitting on the floor, back firmly pressed against the walls. She looked up at me and my heart clenched when I saw her tear stained eyes.
"Kael"
She wailed while my eyes darted to her right hand pressing on her left wrist. I muttered a quiet curse as I sprint towards her living room where her first aid kit was.
When I got back to her she was still crying.
"I didn't mean it Kael"
I know. I wanted to reply but it felt like a lump was stuck in my throat as I stared at the fresh cut on her left wrist. The cut was almost half an inch deep and had evaded her nerves. It looked shallow in the end which meant she had stopped before she could cut off her whole wrist.
"I'm sorry. Please don't get mad at me. I didn't mean it. I didn't know why… I was just… just,,,"
She pleaded and it took every single effort to stare back at her. She wasn't wearing her glasses and her hair was disheveled. I wanted to cry. No, I wanted to shout and cry at the same time because why? Why of all people did this have to happen to her? To my Harriett.
"Let's get this cleaned up"
I said as softly as I could as I cleaned up her cut.
"I need to stitch this up Harriett"
She sniffled as she gave me a nod. I let out a sigh as I kissed her on the forehead.
"I'm not angry, but I am worried. Do you need painkillers before I stitch it?"
She nodded before asking.
"Y.. you kno..know how to stitch?"
She stuttered and I gave her a wry smile.
"I learned both basic and advanced medical aid and got a license for it."
She stared at me before nodding.
"There's a needle and thread at the bottom part of the first aid kit"
She had stitched herself up, I realized as I stared at her complete first aid kit. I stared at her wounds and was again struck that this wasn't the first time she had done this to herself.
I gave her the painkillers before starting to fix her up. On the first strike of the needle, my gaze went to her but found her absent expression again. The same dead eyes she had before she disappeared.
I went back to stitching but felt every ounce of my body going rigid as I heard no whimpers from her. Nothing. As if I wasn't stitching up a part of her body. That's when I realized that at some point, Harriett's body may have become numb from all of the pain she had.
When I finished I saw her eyes closed shut. Her breathing even as if cutting herself up was her peace.
I shook my head to stop the tears from flowing when my gaze darted to the knife on the other edge of the room like it had been thrown.
It was then that I saw the paintings.
There were three, The first was the painting of the suburbs where she was found. The second was the painting of her family, the one where her mother's smile was beautifully painted. And the third was a painting of me. The one tucked away so neatly.
But the first two were shredded, struck by a knife over and over again while my painting was neatly tucked. I stared back at Harriett and the closely safeguarded heart of mine finally burst open. I let my tears fall as I carried Harriett back to my apartment.
I quietly laid her on my bed as Akira jumped to snuggle her now bandaged wrist.
I patted Akira's head and ear before going back to retrieve the paintings she had shredded and the one she was possibly planning to shred. Another tear fell from my eyes as the realization dawned again.
Because the first and second painting was a manifestation of her pain, of Anna and Josiah, of her mother who she couldn't see eye to eye with, and of her father and brother whom she thought were bystanders. So how was I different from them?
I had left Harriett. I hadn't fought for her and quietly chose myself the moment she had made her decision. I didn't even try and I thought whatever I did was enough for her to choose me.
I made her choose and I chose to break our decade long friendship once she made her choice. I will forever blame myself for it.
And I can't blame her if she had seen me as another manifestation of her pain.
Was it the right decision to stay by her side now? What if my presence just made everything worse? What if she didn't want my love and all I was doing was love bombing her?
I laid right next to her in my bed and stared at her, my tears falling continuously as I pondered what I should do.
Because I love Harriett, not that I ever stopped. But if she doesn't love me the same way I do, will I still stay? Or will I run away again like I had done before?
And if I was the one to disappear from her life, will she finally be alright? Or will she accept death's hand?