" Leave me. " She whimpered in pain feeling his hard grip on her wrist and in result he tighten his hold more . He opened the door of his bedroom and her whole body shivered. " Ahh. " She moaned in pain as soon as he threw her on the bed making her body bounce. " Please don't hurt me. " She whispered and startes to drag herself back in fear seeing him. " I told you to not disobey me. " He snarled taking off his wrist watch. " I want to go home... Please let me go. " She whispered in fear. " this is your home!. " He shout and in response she immediately closed her eyes. " No this isn't my house!. " She shout in frustration and next she was laying under him. " Then let me remind you where is your house, who is your owner, ME!... I AM YOUR OWNER!. " He shout and smashed his lips. -------- Possession
Author's POV
Paris,
Imagine grappling with the realization that the person you once despised was actually your savior all along, tirelessly striving to rescue you while you misunderstood their efforts, harboring unwarranted hatred instead. Consider the weight of understanding that the individual who seemed indifferent to your suffering was, in fact, one of the caring souls in your life, unable to bear witnessing your pain and thus opting to distance themselves. Despite their sincere attempts to alleviate your anguish, you remained blind to their own struggles.
Such was the overwhelming emotion consuming him as he sat upon the hospital bed. His head, swathed in bandages, was bowed as he pored over a letter. The steady tick-tock of the wall clock served as a relentless reminder of the time lost during his coma.
For the past 18 days, he had lain in a coma, unaware of the passage of time. It began when he attempted to end his life by wandering onto a bustling Parisian street, only to be struck by a car, plunging him into unconsciousness for over two weeks.
With painstaking care, he scrutinized the letter, his back pressed against the wall behind his bed. His eyes fixated on a particular sentence, and as he read it, tears welled in his eyes. Yet, he couldn't fathom the reason behind this sudden outpouring of emotion.
"I tried to explain, but you didn't understand. I tried to tell you, but you didn't hear... Now, I can't bear this... Goodbye Ryan, take care and shine."
With a heavy heart, he rested his head against the wall. He was Ryan Jay Knight. As a doctor entered the room and addressed him, Ryan remained lost in his thoughts.
"Hey, how are you, Ryan?" the doctor inquired, though Ryan's attention seemed elsewhere.
"I think your eyes are sweating too much," the doctor remarked with a chuckle.
Ignoring the doctor's jest, Ryan requested the presence of his personal secretary. After the doctor attended to him, Ryan placed the letter beneath his pillow. Shortly after, a man in a black suit entered his room.
"Hello, sir. I am William Johanson, your father's personal secretary," the man announced. His accent hinted at his British nationality.
"I have two tasks for you, Mr. William," Ryan said softly.
"I will do my best," William replied with a smile.
"Firstly, find out about a man named Lars Miller-his whereabouts and activities," Ryan instructed.
"Of course, sir. And the second task?" William inquired.
"Complete this one first, and I will reveal the second," Ryan replied.
"Understood, sir," William acknowledged, passing a file containing the company's data to Ryan before departing, leaving Ryan alone with his thoughts. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to quell the storm of pain in his heart. A tear escaped as the words of the letter echoed in his mind.
As he gazed at the sky, his trembling hand reminded him that his anxiety and fear persisted, even after his prolonged coma. The file slipped from his grasp, landing on the floor, with the word 'JAYKAY' emblazoned upon it-a symbol of his identity and the significance of his name, Ryan Jay Knight.
Ryan Jay Knight, also known as Jaykay.
Jaykay.
Emnes, Netherlands
The surroundings were serene, with no vehicles traversing the quiet roads of this secluded area, where only two houses stood. The leaves of oak trees gracefully descended onto the road, gently rustled by the autumn breeze, signaling the arrival of September, when each tree sheds its foliage.
A flock of birds soared freely in the sky, drawn by the familiar voice of a girl calling out to them with her melodious tones.
"Here... come here... Near me," she beckoned, and the birds flocked to her house, where she scattered seeds on the ground for them. Dressed in a simple white frock with braided hair, she watched contentedly as the birds feasted on the seeds she had provided.
"Today's weather is so nice," she murmured to herself, admiring the oak trees.
"Aziel!" she heard her name being called.
"I am coming, mom!" she responded from outside.
"Hey, birds, please pray for my mom so that she can get better," she whispered, tossing more seeds on the ground before turning to leave. It was then that she spotted her friend emerging from her house, carrying a luggage bag.
"Roma!" she called out, and her friend turned, their smiles reflecting mutual joy as they rushed to the fence separating their homes. In this quaint neighborhood, only two houses stood, one belonging to Aziel and the other to Roma. Both girls were in their early twenties.
"You're leaving?" Aziel inquired, to which Roma nodded eagerly.
"Yes," Roma confirmed, her excitement palpable. Aziel couldn't help but giggle at her friend's enthusiasm.
"I told you Auntie would definitely accept Jack," Aziel remarked, prompting an irritated expression from Roma.
"Mom wasn't ready; I had to talk to my dad, and he agreed to meet Jack for my sake," Roma explained, prompting a smile from Aziel.
"You know your mom isn't entirely wrong. You did fall in love with a sweetmeat-maker," Aziel teased, earning a glare from Roma.
"So what if he cooks? His sweets are my favorite," Roma defended her beau with a grin.
"Alright, then," Aziel conceded with a soft reply.
"By the way, how is Aunt Della?" Roma inquired, causing Aziel's smile to fade.
"She's not doing well," Aziel replied softly, prompting concern from Roma.
"What did the doctor say?" Roma pressed, and Aziel swallowed hard.
"The doctor said she has very few days," Aziel revealed, struggling to contain her emotions.
"What? Oh no," Roma exclaimed, though she had already suspected the worst for Aziel's mother. With a terminal illness like AIDS, there was little hope for recovery, and Aziel's mother was now in the final stages, bedridden and under Aziel's devoted care.
"Don't worry, she'll be alright," Roma offered reassurance, to which Aziel simply nodded. Though Aziel knew her mother's time was limited, she refused to acknowledge the inevitable. The thought of her mother's passing filled her with dread and sorrow-what would become of her if her mother were no longer there? She dared not entertain such thoughts.
"Now go, your family is here," Aziel urged, and Roma glanced back to see her parents exiting their home.
"Alright, see you next week," Roma bid farewell, and Aziel waved in response.
"Take care, goodbye," Aziel called after her friend before making her way back to her own house. As she crossed the threshold, her heart clenched at the thought of her mother's impending demise. Her mother was fading away, and the weight of the impending loss bore heavily upon her. She cast a tearful glance toward her mother's bedroom, her resolve to remain strong tested to its limits.