The Darkest Days

Chapter 3: ROMANTICISED PAGE OF LIFE

“He wandered tranquilly along the aisle, to his latitude, slowly swiveling his head toward me; anyhow, with a languid face. Both of us were taciturn, such indecipherable prisiness. Barely did the tropical storm screech frantically outside those purely crystal windows – seemingly retrospective somehow. Our rendezvous was covered with memories. He had tortured me by his silence – I din’t know how to explain – it was ineffable. Waking me up from the relentless train of emotions vociferously, then exposing a listless attitude, which inconceivably scares me, he imperturbably touched my little palm, cluching and kissing it. I was absolutely speechless, for the moment his lips reached my fragile heart; I had utilized my exertion to escape from the heavenly scenario in which we could embrace paradise-like unrealistic wishes. Wriggling out of stuck, I cast a furtive glance on him, ephemerously; of course, I was not compelled to disguise any intention, it was also not an introspection from my inner intuition… just an obvious blunder of a twenty-year-old nerd. An avalanche of questions popping out in my turbulent mind: “Did I act like an i***t?”, “Did he pass the sponge over?”, or “Had I detected his tremulous smile at some moment?”. My brain was totally foggy with pitiable imagination, I don’t remember, his silhouette purged my tiny soul from unstoppable pains. Perhaps my agitation for first-time-ever “companionship” was nakedly outrageous. Years gone by, sullenness, agony, estacy, blurrily written in my memoir, have been quizzical; however, assuaged and healed my isolation. A pleasantly dreary picture drawn by my first affection, giving it the warmest squeeze, in such a halcyon and squeal-alike night.”

Hillary beheld this memoir as her invaluable treasure. The moment she gazed at Jason, his grace virtually dazed her, she gravitated toward his delicate mannerism. Jason was an alumnus of this university, his charisma has been captivating for ages. Hillary had been infatuated with Jason after she registered at the front desk, he woke her up from relentless nightmares of depression. The only thing she desired to untangle was her own mess hindering anytime. “I love you, I love you, I love you, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me”, she constantly repeated a thousand times. Hillary just hoped to see him once, to satisfy her aspiration. Lights were on, she had a tutorial class on Saturday, the boredom of this course made her frustrated. She took a stroll around the moonless campus, to find a solace in darkness, and to be indulged in this murky air. Opening the memoir again, it reminded her of Jason, always him, that feeling was extremely indecipherable within just a few words sketched out downward every torn page. She was lingering whether or not she would write for him to disclose her affection towards him. It seemed useless, since she had no courage to do that, even once in her lifetime. Even though Hillary attempted to grasp all opportunities that she had, Jason has been someone to whom she didn’t dare to talk. Time flew really fast, but this tutorial class presumably lasted forever. Hillary lost her patience because of its tedious contents. She truly craved for Catherine’s presence, to eradicate all of fears out of her head. But the secrecy of Hillary’s affection, her nails were scratching onto the memoir, she hated herself, for not being able to unwind her madness. Surging waves could compare to the intrinsic waves governing her body, into every nerve. Jason’s angelic smile had secured his aura in Hillary. She felt his silhouette inside her though she couldn’t touch him physically. She was incapable of skulking her true love.

Hillary closed her eyes, holding that moment a bit, then sauntering along the aisle of her dorm. She wrote to Jason as usual, but took them into a drawer.

“What are you waiting for, Hillary?” Timothee was there, but she did not know how long Timothee has been there, behind her, perhaps Timothee had followed her before.

“Nothing. I just want to take a walk to see the moonlight.” She gave Timothee a cursory glance at first, for Timothee infringed her private space.

“I don’t mean to let you go.” She hold Hillary’s yellowish scarf spontaneously dancing in the hibernal air, then clutched her hands to glue this connection forever. They were both nervous, and speechless.

“The fact is that you didn’t shield me.” Hillary was sobbing, for herself, and shouted at Timothee in order to expose what she has had to experience.

“You have a secret, don’t you?” Timothee had to fight against the screaming intuition that was attacking her. She hovered whether or not she should say that, but finally she did it by the way.

“Nothing to think of, Timothee, I’m just exhausted with everything that is occuring now. You know what? It’s just about my scores of African Fiction course. They’re really bad. And I have been studying that hard to pass the midterm exam, with a B+, actually deserves to my effort, but somewhat disappointed.”

“That kind of stuff, it hypnotized me, Hillary, GPA, and achievements in this university. Maybe your first attempt is not worthy, but try to do it again, for a brighter result.”

“Is it your advice? It doesn’t work for a nerd like me. I felt worthless, and failed. The failure drowned me downwards the bottomless despair. I’m broken, and I just beg to have an endless sleep, to erase those scary memories.”

“You think of Jason, Hillary.” Timothee unconsciously threw these words out of her mouth.

“How did you know? You read my memoir? Or Jason told you about this? I’m insane now, you know Timothee!”

“I’m so sorry Hillary, as you wish, I have found that memoir in your drawer, and sneakily took a look at it.” As her acknowledgment to Hillary, she unclenched Hillary’s palm, and let her cry.

“And then you knew Jason, my untouchable love. I came to this place with nothing, I met Jason by chance. He stole my piece of soul, to water for his mysterious garden.”

“I know you are very dexterous. Why don’t you make a lovely jumper for him? It’s a kind of conveyance, to expose your affection towards him.”

Timothee’s encouragement woke her up from sullenness. Hillary realized what she had to do at that moment. At first, she was quite reluctant to make a jumper. The humongous hesitation on the inside challenged her. She was still lingering although Timothee has given her the innate brave. Perhaps she did not realize how exquisite and charismatic she was.

There would be an important prom next month, with numerous dignitaries formerly invited. Hillary even did not have a ‘usual’ gown herself. T-shirts, pants, robes, jackets were all of her belongings, without any formal gowns for that prom. This would be a priceless chance for her to dance with Jason, if possible. Definitely, Hillary had the faculty to design a dazzling gown on her own, just a little curve onto this sparkling work, combined with some imitated pearls stolen from the nearby jewelry store, and finally an impeccable blend between wisteria and glaucuous fabrics. She would be a real princess coming from Disney world if she dressed it, the insanity when a mixture of contradictory colors was taken into account, and made her be the most splendid figure in that prom.

“You look so gorgeous today, Hillary, be a queen yourself.”

“Are you kidding me? It seems idiotic somehow. I have never danced in such a crucial occasion like this night.” Her frustration prevailed, though it was her design. “I’m a waitress, rather than a queen, you know.”

“Where is your self-assurance, Hillary? You must put your audacity in your forehead.” Timothee intentionally enraged with Hillary, but tried to ease it. Then she ensnared to give Hillary a diamond ring, that was her birthday gift at the age of eighteen. Timothee just expected to see Hillary truly happy once in her life. She aspired to witness the most exquisite version of Hillary in this prom, dancing with Jason in a “queen mannerism”, full of royal attributes. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. Be yourself.”

Hillary’s hands were shaking. She’s got social anxiety since she left her hometown, and became obsessed with it. An immense hall appeared to her tiny eyes, like a diminutive version of Buckingham Palace, where the true Queen was living. It took her some minutes to calm down, her previous visualization about this prom had been totally different from the present scenery.

Her attempt was to contact Jason, at least she had his information in her memoir. However, her courage was immediately disappeared whilst Timothee was standing in front of the hall to see Hillary and Jason dancing together in the pale moonlight. Hillary did not know what to do, as her spindly hope almost collapsed. Jason has not been here, she silently said ‘God blessed me’; because every time she met Jason, her soul wasn’t by her side, it vanished. Beyond her anticipation, Jason grasped her little palms, and touched her head tenderly. Hillary, therefore, was exultant and speechless, for what was taking place now; she had already blushed, not due to her embarrassment, this was actual love, it was strange yet familiar. Ironically, ‘Belle’ was entirely satisfied with ‘The Beast’.

“Tu es très belle dans cette robe, Hillary.”

Hillary nearly forgot Jason’s presence in light of being immersed in estacy. To her assumption, Jason would find her somewhere that was really distant – unlikely, it happened again, her nervousness. She had a tendency of romanticising everything around her, and Jason also, to be his graceful princess in the parallel world. This was a normalcy, since she had been suffering from depression, and found another way to escape. Jason has rescued her from bittersweet memories. His heroic spirit romantically killed her flimsy soul. Now that Hillary was lost in eonian elation, she chiefly forgot how to show off her mannerism appropriately. Then Jason purposefully put his hands onto Hillary’s neck, it was a sign of temptation, and she couldn’t resist the seduction, the chemical reaction between two separate genders. Under the crystal moonlight, they were dancing as any other in that prom, yet unique and fierce.

“Did you feel something melting you heart, Hillary?” Jason suddenly asked. To his inquiry, he seemed to be on the horns of a dilemma, not wholly shy, but quite reluctant. He was still engrossed in Hillary’s breathlessly incredible beauty – irresistible, and dangerous somehow.

“Already my Jason.” Just three words, but fully conveyed what she has been concealing. She solely wanted to overthrow her emotionality, and step onto negative stuff.

“I know you’re special, once I met you at the front desk. I’ve tried to sketch so as to make a portrait of you, Hillary. Something inside you is fairly similar to mine. It is transparent.”

“I’m sleepless certain times, for my anxiety, and as a catastrophic outcome, oh no, apocalyptic one, I accidentally met you. No words to say, I don’t know, it’s inexplicable. To be more succinct, I love you.”

“How?” He was puzzled, a little bit predictably cautious.

“Undescribable, Jason. There is a heaven in you, to lighten my murky cliff. I’m on edge now, when standing in a face-to-face position like this. I can sense your breath, your lips, my lips, our sensational feeling.”

“Your beauty reminds me of Van Gogh paintings, ‘The Starry Night’, containing sophisticated implications in it.”

“Why don’t we make this night starry, Jason?”

They kissed. The endless night began whilst both were swimming in their own seduction, ambition, and desires. Fortunately, no one saw them, annoyed them, or witnessed their nakedness. Two unclothed beings were blending seclusively, to find private paradise in which there were just Hillary, and Jason. The oak was swinging its leaves to form an enigmatic lullaby, crytically singing in the gust of winds.