I peek at the peaceful faces of my three friends sleeping, and all I can feel is covetousness. I envy how life is just sweet and peaceful for them. They might be struggling with one or two things, but nothing is correlated to this grief I am nursing. All the same, I am indebted to them for being by my side all through my lowest moment- the time that the day turned into night, the darkness dimming the light.I imprint my feet on the scantily frigid floor and stroll to the window, pull the curtains aside, and try to savor the serene warm breeze of the summer. I cast my eyes around the blooming humongous yard, cruising in its beauty for a moment. The tranquillity brought about by the outside breeze is terrifically magic, and the picturesque flowers are irresistibly scenic to my eyes which contradicts my predominant condition. Nothing has been the same since I returned here. It's been one nightmare after another, and the last one, the demise of my father, left me shattered, confused, and

"Well, should we wait for him? Or maybe we should go upstairs and leave you lovebirds alone?" Grace teases me after I settle on the seat."Come on guys. It's just a meal we are sharing. Not a bed!" I say."But still, you two have some steamy stuff to talk about so, we will leave you alone." Rose says, and they stand with their plates of food and glasses of juice."I agree. Make sure you tell him how much you still crave for him or else I will do it for you." Sherry says as they start walking away.I guess it will be a romantic breakfast for me and Damian then? Gosh!"Hey! It's too early to blush when the prince charming hasn't even arrived yet."Can they just disappear from my sight? And, my! Why am I nervous over something we have done countless times? Jeez!Before I could take a sip of my fresh juice to calm my freaking nerves down, my phone starts ringing, almost making me leap with anxiety. "Uuuu! He is calling you to pick him up outside. How sweet!"These flirts are still here?

I latch my eyes on the satchels laying in my room, and a familiar sense of this tickles the adrenaline. The last time I saw something like this, it was back in Mombasa, in my condominium, and he was moving in with me. It was sweet and incoherent at the same time. I felt like he was rushing things too hastily, yet deep inside I was over the moon with the fact that in a way, he was all mine. I felt like some magic was forcing him on me, yet I could wrap my finger about what it was.Now as we rack before each other in my room like this, his satchels lounging I'm front of us on the floor, it epitomizes the same sight and elicits the same old feeling, only that this time we are compelled by several factors. This is not out of love for each other nor free will. We need to put on a cogent act before everyone and make it seem and feel real. Leaving the castle isn't an option - I simply can't leave the witches here, and I haven't found solid grounds to kick their asses out. So, instead of the

"Hey, Mrs Almeda!"I lift my head from the computer to the sight of Damian strolling to my side.Mrs Almenda! Mmh, that sounds so sweet, if only it wasn't a sham!"Hi, hubby! What brings you to my office?" I ask as he plants a kiss on my cheek."Picking my wife, or is it my baby?" He teases, sitting on the edge of my table."What do you love calling me? Wifey, wife, or baby?" I ask, resting my elbows on his laps and gazing up at his gorgeous face."Wifey makes me feel like I really own you. I would go with that. But still, baby hits kinda different."Ahem!I know that feeling. That longing to possess something you love so much. I have countless times asked myself, "what if this was real"? What if I just kick my fears and ego aside and give in. Continue our love story. Continue what beautiful thing we had. The love for him never fled my heart even that particular time I felt so mad at him for lying to me. It's still there, even deeper than before. What

"Nanny Sonnia?" I sob again, my eyes unbelieving of what is before me.She lay flat on the green grass, soaked in blood. If only I didn't know her for years, I would have had an arduous time recognizing her. The brutal red spots on her face - it looks like they are marks of a baseball. The broken wrists and hip evidently denote how much torture she went through before meeting her horrifying death - and this sight, her state right now reminds me of someone, making my heart bleed even more- my mother. My sweet mother! Is there a connection?Flashback.More than 5 years ago."But Papa, an accident couldn't have left my mother with these kinds of bruises on her body. Besides, I saw her when she left for the office this morning and she didn't have those!" I say between sobs as papa and I stare at the woman who is at the blink of death before us in this hospital."The police didn't find anything though, my dear. I would give anything to find the monster that did this to my wife, but the onl