Whispers Of My Ashes Over the Cascade Mountains, are where the whispers of my ashes can be heard. Floating in between, all of the pines, the cedars and the firs. In #life, I wore the same skin as the devil. In death, my name still conjures him on some level. I am still reviled, admired, loathed and maybe even loved. Though none of that actually matters, for none of it was enough. I was a bad person, doing bad things to the good. I did it all because I wanted to, and because I could. A sick soul, is something I grew up with inside. Woven with my normality, that sickness I cleverly did manage to hide. Cold blood, pumped around my killer veins. I had to give in to the sickness, give in to the killer pains. I was only living, to mount up the dead. The body count grew, and my ego was regularly fed. None of me was left, my depravity took it all. The highs of killing, put me up for a mighty fall. On death row, I counted down the days. For when I would take my last breath, and be forever despised. Scattered where I spent the happiest of my days. I wanted to be somewhere where the good part of my heart now lays. The Cascade Mountains, are where my ashes will always stay. Breathed in by the living, and keeping company with some of those that I slayed.

Let Sleeping Love Lie Have you ever met someone, that as soon as your eyes fell upon them; they literally took your captivated breath away? That not one single word has been exchanged between you, but that person has forever left an imprint on your heart? Twelve years ago that was exactly how I felt when I first saw Will Flynn. Me and my large group of girlie friends walked into our fave local pub in town, confident and as boisterous as you like. No sooner as I got through the door, my rowdy self was left standing with an O shaped mouth and eyes that were wide with deep longing... Just like that, I was utterly smitten! Will Flynn, unknowingly now held my heart hostage. "Who has got your attention, Tess?" One of the girls asked. I swallowed hard, my words lost somewhere within the depths of my captivated throat. "Who is the new barman?" I quietly asked, with my eyes remaining totally fixed on him: dilated and wide with dreamy wonder. My friend shrugged her shoulders. "I have no idea?" "He has to be the most beautiful man that I have ever seen." I whimsically whispered. My friend laughed, pushing into me. "Go and buy yourself a drink, introduce yourself." I blinked hard, bringing myself down off the cloud I was so sweetly daydreaming on. "Oh I... I couldn't." I stammered, scared by just the thought of it. "Yes you bloody can. It's not like you to be shy. Besides, gawping at him all night is hardly the greatest of first impressions." She dragged me towards the busy bar. My petite frame got lost in amongst all of the warm bodies who were either waiting to be served or just casually socialising. It was true, ordinarily I was confident. Yet somehow, this desirous man had rendered me completely paralysed. I became someone who seemed incapable of stringing a simple sentence together. My pounding heart feverishly thudded against my breast, leaving me giddy with nervous anticipation. I finally managed to squeeze my way through the sea of faces, a definite advantage of being small. As soon as I reached the bar. I nervously waited to be served. It didn't have to be him that served me, I was just enjoying his glorious profile. Short dark brown hair, messily tousled on the top with a slight quiff at the front. A defined bone structure that just begged to be caressed with my appreciative fingers. His pale green eyes were an exquisite and unusual shade of caesious, spheres of masculine beauty. Those gorgeously open and captivating windows to his soul, pulled me right into wishful thoughts of being with only him. My fingers anxiously tapped on the bar. I was just trying to keep my hands busy, trying to look demurely calm. On the inside, I was anything but, bloody calm. Part of me, the confident and vain Tess, was so very desperate for him to look my way. Then the other side of me, the lesser known, insecure and shy Tess, was too afraid to even look at him. I did try, my very best and casual 'I'm just standing here, innocently looking your way' kind of a stare. It was at that exact moment that our eyes actually collided for the very first and unforgettable time. I coyly smiled, whilst my stomach did crazy somersaults. To my sweet relief he smiled, too. Quickly followed by a delicious double take at me. My heart was now pounding so hard, I was afraid that my breathing would become that erratic, I was actually going to pass out. Feisty Tess, is yelling at me to get a grip. While the reserved Tess, is whispering calm the fuck down! My own inner argument preoccupied me, as he busily served someone at the far end of the bar. Giving me just enough time to sort myself out. He then smiled in my direction, as he confidently strode towards me. I honestly felt as though my throat had constricted so tight, I was going to be embarrassingly unable to speak. The simple task of asking for a Vodka and Coke, now seemed too hard a task to complete. Shit! Shit! Shit! I had cursed to myself. Mortified by the thought of tripping up over my words and making a complete stammering fool of myself. "What can I get you?" He politely asked me, with a interested grin sitting gorgeously crooked on his face. His eyes really were the brightest spheres I had ever seen. When he looked at me, he 'really' looked at me... You know what I mean? "Ummm, can I have a Vodka and Coke, please?" I remember feeling so chuffed with myself, for actually managing to string a simple request together. Once again, he flashed me a charismatic smile. That's when my heart and stomach started having a party together... Who could flip the most in the shortest amount of time. I really wanted to say something interesting. Something that would make him think I had the WOW factor, but nothing and I mean, NOTHING, sprang to my cloudy little mind. I was confused, and frankly afraid, by my overwhelming and strong feelings. For someone I had literally just met. I knew nothing about him. I just remember having this urgent need to know EVERYTHING about him. "There you go." He placed the drink in front of me, with yet another heart-stopping smile. "Thanks." I threw him a grateful look. A silent thank you for him allowing me to breathe the same air as him. Utterly ridiculous I know, but that was how he made me feel. He totally captivated me. I felt unworthy in his presence. Ordinarily, I was the girl who had a sweet and cocksure attitude that loved to have fun, but with him, I became paralysed and mute. So, to help me from freezing in his presence... I drank more voddies. **** So that was how it was for about two weeks. Shy and torturous lingering glances, being forever thrown across the bar at one another. I couldn't gauge whether he was just toying with me, but I quickly realised he wasn't like the other bar men. He wasn't like any other man I had ever met before. He was quieter, more genteel. He had a depth to him that was charismatic yet unassuming. I had to ask around to find out his name, because of being my usual and pathetic self around him, I still hadn't managed to ask him myself. I was eventually told that his name was Will, and it was a name that just seemed to pleasantly roll off my tongue. So after a stern talking to myself one night, I decided that after a few more drinks... For courage you understand, I decided it was high time that I tried to say hello. Maybe? Once again, all that passed between us, were many more bashful smiles and stares. I was starting to feel disheartened and angry with myself. Not even the alcohol had any effect on my lack of confidence whenever I was around him. He always affected me like that. On the evening that I was trying to be brave, it was passing by all too quickly. Feeling frustrated and dejected, I decided to take my, slightly inebriated self, to the toilet. I remember being sat on the loo, silently tell myself off. I done the same, when I looked at my intoxicated reflection. Then, as I'm slowly and sulkily coming up the stairs, he's coming out of the kitchen door. I actually forgot how to bloody breathe! As I tried to fill my lungs with much-needed air, he stood at the far end of the small and claustrophobic hallway, while I quietly remained frozen at the other. It was like time had stopped, pausing, to let us gawp at one another for just a little while longer. We both awkwardly grinned, walking slowly towards one another; getting closer and closer. My panicked nerves were actually making me feel sick, yet I hid it all behind a sweet and welcoming smile. "Hello." I shyly tried to make conversation. He coyly looked at me, tilting his head. "Hello." "It's Will, isn't it?" I asked, smiling like a fool. He nodded gently, his eyes warm and bright. "Yes it is, what's your name?" "Tess." I calmly replied. He blinked slowly, with the hottest lopsided grin spanning right across his gorgeous face. "Hello Tess." That was when I thought I was literally going to die a happy woman. To hear him actually say my name. I tried to stand with a confident sexy stance, crossing my legs at the ankles. "You've not worked here long, have you?" I asked, desperately trying to keep my nerves at bay. He leant against the wall, glancing at me sideways. "No I haven't." "I didn't think I had seen you before?" I told him, with eyes that wished they could forever stare at him. Our locked gaze, was one that memorably lingered. He then looked a little embarrassed, so pushed himself away from the wall. "So, are you enjoying yourself?" He asked, seemingly now more nervous than I was. I watched his every move, sensing that he was quickly losing confidence. "Yes thanks." I replied with an assuring smile. "So what do you do?" He politely asked, lifting his chin to look at me once again. "I work in a children's nursery." I told him, with yet another assuring smile. He smiled with a slightly parted mouth. "Right." "What do you do?" I asked, keen to find out more about the cutely shy Will. I remember him putting his hands into his back pockets, looking sweetly boyish as he did it. "I'm hoping to do a degree next year." He replied, proudly. "Doing what?" I asked with keen interest. He grinned, looking right back at me. "Engineering and Technology." "Clever, as well as handsome." I actually wanted to kick myself for letting that comment slip out! With my traitorous compliment, he did his usual and adorable, coy little smirk; before looking down at the floor. Whilst I, just wanted that very same floor... To just swallow me up whole. He then stood tall, readying himself to leave. "It's nice to meet you, Tess." I actually felt gutted that he needed to go back to work, ending our brief but sweet conversation. I had so much that I wanted to say, so felt frustrated that we couldn't. For as awkward as it was, it felt so good to have finally met him. In the end, I politely hid that frustration with a warm and parting smile. "You too." I said, with absolute false confidence. **** That was our ice breaker conversation. Over the next few weeks we gradually began to get closer, which was often hard to do because he was always working behind the bar. One night, he asked me whether he could walk me home. To be honest, if he had asked me to walk into my own impending doom... I would have willingly gone. I had never met someone who was so gentlemanly and subtly sophisticated. I often wondered what the hell did he ever see in me? Okay, I was modestly attractive. I scrubbed up alright, but I wasn't exactly what you would call a drop dead stunner. My 5ft 2 inches body, was curvaceous in all the right places... I suppose. I knew how to dress my curves to accentuate what I had. I also knew how to conceal my less than favourable parts. My stomach, being one of them. I was never blessed with a washboard tum... It was very much a Marilyn-esque type of a tum. My blonde highlights gave my fine hair much more definition. What I lacked in thickness of hair, I made up for with great bone structure. I had killer cheekbones and shapely lips. On many an occasion, my pale blue eyes had admiringly been commented on. Often I was told, that they were pretty or twinkly. My nose was small but not symmetrical, which annoyed the hell out of me. I only ever noticed it in photographs, hence why I hated having my picture taken. I was a small girl with a big personality, but always seemed unable to reveal my true self to Will. Although we were certainly making progress, I was SO not used to a man so restrained and respectful. I didn't value myself enough to think that I deserved a man, so restrained and respectful. Standing outside of my house, we finally shared our first kiss. It was sweetly clumsy. Although I'd had better first kisses, I felt something special pass between us. It didn't feel like a mature locking of lips. At the time, I was 25 and he was 22. It felt more like a teenage seedling of love, being grown with an innocent and pure kiss. He walked me home the following week after that, still, he was the perfect gentlemen. I was starting to feel frustrated and more than ever confused. The lack of him trying to rip my clothes off on my doorstep, made me question what he truly felt for me. Only, I was too afraid to ask, for fear of the answer that I would get. So I kept all of that frustration within, letting it inwardly fester inside of me. Infecting everything that Will and I, had. The less he tried to touch me, the more restless I became. The whole 'I'm not worthy thing' came into my mind and taunted my every waking thought. It had convinced me that although he liked me, he just didn't like me enough to sleep with me. Not many people knew that I wrote #poems and because of my overwhelming feelings, I started to write down my thoughts about him in #poems and verse. When I showed him some of my #poems he was genuinely interested, impressed even. No man had ever been interested in my writing, but Will loved the fact that I wrote what was in my heart. "There is more to you than meets the eye, isn't there, Tess?" I'll never forget that single sentence he once said to me. That side of me, I freely let him see. He understood the real me. He knew that deep down, the Tess that I strutted around on show with, was not always the real me. There were layers to myself, that not even my friends had unwrapped... Yet somehow, his instincts were peeling them slowly away from me. That scared the shit out of me. I could allow him to see the creative side of me, but felt too afraid, to reveal all the other sides of me. I think that was why, I sometimes shut down around him. It was my pathetic self preservation, protectively kicking in. I hid the needy and insecure parts of myself from everyone, very well. With an alcoholic mother and an absent father. I had learnt to suppress those weak traits, but Will brought them all to the surface without giving me time to prepare myself. I knew that I was falling for him and that terrified the shit out of me. He was a beautiful man, both on the inside and out. At the time, I just couldn't bear the thought of his rejection, so instead, I hitched a ride to 'Self Destruct.' **** The night that eventually changed everything, still makes me feel nauseous and disappointed with myself. Even after all these years, it is still too painful a thing to think about. That fateful night, I was on a mission to enjoy myself. To act as flirtatiously as I possibly could with Will. I was determined to get him to throw down his feelings for me, once and for all. It was working a treat. I was tipsy, but not a mess. I wanted him, and I needed him to know that. I wanted him to walk me home and finally rip my clothes off on my doorstep. I wanted us to commit our bodies and minds to one another. I needed more from him. However, all of our cheeky flirting got the attention of Mr. Saturday Night Shag. He was the bar manager. He wasn't overly attractive but what he lacked in looks, he made up for with a shit load of arrogant confidence. I'd never even been close on his shag radar before. I wasn't as gullible or as naive, as all of the other girls he always managed to successfully work his charms on. This guys ego was almost as big as his list of girls who had foolishly succumbed to his self assured cockiness. I suddenly became a challenge for him. He wanted me to notice him and forget all about Will. At first, I wasn't interested. So I just smiled sweetly and kept flirting with Will. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy all the attention that I was getting. I happily watched them both vying for my attention. For someone who is so quietly insecure, it was a big fucking deal at the time. Somewhere along the line, though... It all started to fall apart. I don't know whether it was because Will thought I was enjoying Ed's obvious attempts to seduce me, way too much. Or he saw that self destructing side of me and wanted no more part of it. Whatever his reasons were, at some point he stepped back. The fooling around had gone too far. He became solemn and subdued, which only made Ed even more keen to seal the deal with me. Near the end of the night, Ed called me over. I watched how Will's eyes narrowed as our heads got close together as he whispered in my ear. "The next song, I'm dedicating to you." My intrigued eyebrow rose with interest at Ed's lustily said words. The tune was 'Would You Go To Bed With Me' by Touch and Go. The vibe in the pub was buzzing, and after one too many vodkas, Ed and his wicked grin became increasingly more attractive. I know I should have spurned his advances and ran for the fucking hills, but I was in self destruct mode, remember? Will was feeling something, it was written all over his tortured face. I honestly believed he would do something about it, that he would fight for me. As the pub got emptier, so did my heart. Will looked devastated when Ed wrapped his sneaky arms around me. I just wanted to throw mine around Will's, as he sadly cleared the bar. Ed was being brash and cocky. Smug and bold. Even as I sat there listening to the crap coming out of his cocky and crude mouth, I still remained there. You'd think it would have been enough for me to walk away from Ed, when I saw Will's crestfallen face, but I was being selfish; an insecure little bitch who still wanted him to fight for me. I wanted him to fight for us. No one had ever fought for me, not even myself. Looking back, I was putting Will in an impossible situation. He didn't understand why I was doing what I was. The only thing he understood, was how it felt. At some point, all the staff were sat around the table. Will joined us, quietly sitting at the end of it; coldly staring in my direction. I kept evading his strong eye contact, but I could feel his disapproval being thrown at me with invisible daggers. The one and only time that I did look at him, is a moment that I will keep with me until I take my very last breath. He silently mouthed to me. "Why are you going with him?" That right there, should have been enough for me to get the hell out of there... But oh no! Not me! I was doing the whole self destruct thing, in destroying fucking style. So, I indignantly shrugged my shoulders, and looked away from him. No one heard what he asked me. I was too bloody-minded and stubborn to stop and think about why he had asked me that question. I just remember, that right at that moment; I was hurting, and I wanted him to hurt, too. He wasn't going to fight for me. He wasn't going to fight for us. So I had nothing left to lose. The rest as they say, is ashamed history. That night, I slept with Ed. The following week, I returned to the pub with a heavy, and incredibly guilty, heart. As soon as Will saw me, the disgust and disappointment was written all over his pale and resentful, face. He used to look at me in such a beautiful way, that it left me feeling special; giddy and weak, that kind of special. Now, I was something so terribly tainted; he just looked right through me. To him, I was now soiled goods. To him, I no longer existed. In that painful and sickening moment, I knew that we were forever over. Whatever 'we' once were, had now absolutely gone. Nothing I could say or do, would ever change that. So I begrudgingly, carried on seeing Ed for a few more, saving face, weeks. Of course, his own interest had very much waned once he had smugly bedded me. It was only a matter of time before I would be permanently removed from his radar altogether. So my battered pride, made me end things first between us. It was about this time that Will stopped working at the pub. I then knew, I would never get the chance to say that I was sorry. I would never get the chance to apologise for my inexcusable actions. Torturous weeks followed. I continued to think of him. What was he doing? Who was he with? Did he still think of me? I was never a person who wanted to regret a single thing, but with him, I regretted everything. I felt like I had this haunting, unfinished business, silently simmering away. Holding out for the moment that it would get its chance to finish what it had once started. I wouldn't get that chance, until the Boxing Day Ball. At the very place, where 'we' first began. I'd had a shit Christmas, and my Boxing Day was about to get a whole lot shitter. I'd been dragged out by my friends, who were trying to pull me from my, post-Will, hell hole. For him to actually be there, was a bitter pill to swallow. Nauseating and bitter, because he had a new girlfriend in tow. A girlfriend, who just so happened to like to drape herself all over him. It was like she was telling every single female in the room, that Will was hers. I tried so hard not to look in their direction, but nevertheless, my eyes would frequently betray me. The brunette was possessively sat on his lap, her arms snaked right around his neck. It was sickening to see him laughing with someone else. Heated jealously ripped right through me, shredding me apart with every giggle and kiss that they both shared. Some self loathing was thrown in for good fucking measure, too. I knew that girl could have been me. That girl, should have been me! There was only one time, did Will choose to look in my direction. He saved the indignant look, that I so cruelly threw him on that fateful night with Ed. He saved it, so that he could finally throw it right back at me... With piercing and soul-crushing force. He peeped over the brunette's shoulder, smugly glaring back at me. All of his pent up anger and disappointment, suddenly came flying at me with one disdained, but precise, glance. I tried to hide my hurt but it was futile. I managed to hang around for a little while longer, but my humiliation was eventually too much to bear. Knowing that Will was still disgusted with me, I left with his disgust wrapped around my ashamed and sad self. Walking home, my confidence was in complete tatters. My taunting mind, cursed me. I was all alone, left to lick my very raw, but totally deserved, wounds. I thought that would be the last time that I saw him, but twelve years later, I would be forced to remember Will, once again. *** I honestly think that fate thought it would be fun to taunt me, one final time... For old times sake. For, there I was; happily getting on with my #life. When one nostalgic day, my silly thoughts began to wander off with distant memories of Will. My whimsical thoughts wondered what of him? Did he marry or have any kids? Did he follow that dream to do a degree in Engineering and Technology? Was he happy? All legitimate questions that a woman would ask about a man that she once fucked over. Stupid thoughts and questions, that I didn't deserve to own. After Will, my #life did eventually settle. I had a long term boyfriend, and was now an assistant manager at the nursery where I worked. #life was good. However, fate had something bittersweet in store for me. After twelve years of being Will-less, that single thought of him, triggered something to release inside of me. It had freed thoughts and feelings that I had chained somewhere safely inside of me. I still wished that I had been given the chance to say I was sorry. I still felt regret over something that I never gave an explanation for. It was bloody ridiculous, that I even cared after all this time... but there were never no hard or fast rules about my feelings for Will. I could never get past how badly I had treated him that night. How I had not only let him down, I had also let myself down. I always hoped, that one day, I would get my chance to tell him that. I even wrote about him in a #poem. An apologetic #poem, I suppose. In the hope that it would finally rid me of my heavy guilt. That it would somehow help me to get it all off my burdened chest... but it never did. I knew that he'd never get to read any of my apologetic words. I also knew that he'd never truly understand how my hurting him, hurt myself. So as yet another Christmas approached, I found myself reading the #poem that I once wrote. Dear Will This is a #poem, that you shall never see But felt compelled to write it nevertheless As insanely, I often still think of you How things between us were so terribly left I don't believe in a #life of regret No use in dwelling on the past But for some unknown and sad reason I can't forgive myself, for all of the hurt that I once cast You were younger than me When I met you twelve years ago My God you were so beautiful On the inside, even more beautifully so You were working behind the bar Where me and my girlies once went Straight away, I wanted to know you A gorgeous soul to me, so heavenly sent You were intelligent and kind A really sweet and caring young soul I wanted to be with you I wanted you to make me feel whole You respected all of me Respected the person that I was I don't understand what I did It was if onlys and just because I grew impatient and stubborn That's when my insecurity set in I began thinking to destroy What never got a chance to truly begin You were much more mature Than I had ever been I just went into self destruct mode A cruel part of me you'd never seen You see, when I began to care More than I could ever cope with I began to play games and push Pushing you to a no win limit When I saw that you were jealous That pushing just took a hold I never stopped to think of you How my actions would leave you cold I remember your sweet face Looking hurt and so very sad "Why are you going with him?" You whispered in a voice, so mad I remember feeling confused And thinking that I should just go home That is what I should have done Left and gone home... ALONE But then, Little Miss Self Destruct Urged me to go on ahead Ignoring my feelings for you I chose a smug loser instead God, I could kick myself A thousand times and more What I did that night Was cruel and so immature It makes me emotional, still Thinking how I hurt you so The memory of your hurt face Twelve years later, I still do know That was the end of us You left working at the bar I never got to say I was sorry For me, that left a scar I think of you at times Wonder how your #life is? You will always be remembered Somewhere in my hearts abyss I remember your gentle kiss You were always a true gent You loved that I wrote poetry Like I said... Heaven sent So although you'll never know How very sorry I am I've written it down here My feelings weren't a sham I wish that I could find you Maybe tell you to your face? So that you'd know that I Am now a woman of grace I regret that you never got The chance to ever see Who I truly was inside The chance to see the real me I think if you had seen her Who'd know where we would be? But I made a huge mistake I underestimated your integrity So now I only have my thoughts Rattling around inside of my head Dear Will, I'm so very sorry Are the words that I never said Remember fate, the bitch that I mentioned before? A few days after my reading of that heartfelt #poem, I see Will again. I'm busily rushing around my local supermarket, minding my own damn business. When, I felt someone watching me. You know when you sometimes quickly look at someone, and they seem warmly familiar. In that surreal moment, I was blissfully unaware, that the man that I had been longing to see, was in actual fact, staring right back at me. His now matured, yet handsome face, just didn't register with me at the time. All I remember of that day was rushing in to buy my lunch. In deep and hurried thought, I was choosing some sushi. I felt someone, to my right, looking intently at me. I glanced sideways, and saw this gorgeous guy faintly smiling with his eyebrow raised with amused interest at me. I distinctly remember thinking 'Oh my... I'm being checked out by the hunk near the sushi' How could I have possibly not realised that it was Will? What a complete and utter tit to have not recognised him straight away? After twelve years of not seeing his wonderful face, ashamedly, I had kind of forgotten it. I only had the younger Will, etched within my older mind. I never thought, not in a million years, that I'd see him whilst out shopping. It was only after leaving the shop, did it actually sink in that Will was the man who had been smiling at me. But at that precise moment in time, with him continuing to stare across at me, I began to feel a bit silly. So feeling girlishly embarrassed, with who I thought was, a complete but totally hot stranger; I made haste. Quickly paying for my sushi and bottled water and leaving the store with a flush to my high cheeks. Like I said, it was only after reaching my car, did I understand why that gorgeous face seemed so pleasantly familiar. I not only didn't speak, I blushed and ignored him. Seriously, I just wanted to shrivel up and die. After many an occasion of wanting to once again kick myself, I just thought that it was a weird coincidence to see Will after reading the #poem that I wrote. Only fate, that wicked bitch of a cow... Was having real bloody fun with me. The following week, I'm happily walking through the town with my boyfriend. I'm busily browsing through my messages on my smartphone, when I look up and see HIM... Again! It is then and only then, that his older, but still insanely handsome face, is instantly recognised by me. I just couldn't believe it. What were the chances of seeing him again, after seeing nothing of him in over twelve years? Yet here he was, in gorgeous glory... It really was Will. In complete and panicked shock, I stupidly looked down; fiddling with my phone. I knew that we had passed each other, and I really wanted to look back over my shoulder, just to see if he was looking back at me... but it's hardly appropriate when your boyfriend of seven years is right beside you. Inside, I felt just like that twenty five year old Tess all over again. I couldn't stop thinking about him. His face was the only face that I saw, every time that I closed my eyes. Why, after all these years, was I seeing him all of the damn fucking time? He had always remained sheltered somewhere safely within my heart, but these random fleeting moments of seeing him, had now kicked down all of my heavily guarded defences. So stupidly, the following week, I foolishly found myself actually searching for him as I walked around town. Every face that passed me by, I briefly studied. I vehemently chastised myself, for acting so pathetic and desperate. And I kid you not, that was when I saw him again; at a cashpoint. He busily pressed the buttons, grabbing his money, then dashed past me on the opposite side of the road. This time, his stare didn't linger on me. He was probably pissed by the fact that I had blanked him twice already. He was more than likely thinking. "Fuck that! I'm not going to give her a third opportunity." In total and utter disbelief, I reluctantly turned and carried on walking in the other direction. Where had Will been? Why did I keep on seeing him after nothing for twelve long years? Why was he unknowingly, but always, popping into my #life? It was a constant and bitter reminder of something that had taken me such a long time to forget. I began to feel guilty because of my dear boyfriend. For, at night, I'd lie there; thinking about someone else. A someone, who I had a brief, but very messy, history with. I know it all happened way before my boyfriend, but it didn't make me feel any less guilty. However, my completely selfish side, justified it by the fact that mine and Will's messy past had remained unresolved. It had never been laid to rest. It's a cursing trait of mine. I absolutely hate loose ends... And Will, was my biggest ever loose end. The weird thing was, over the years, I had buried him so deep. So deep, that whenever I thought of him, I felt like I was losing a little more of him. Eventually, I couldn't remember everything about him. I couldn't even remember his surname. So whenever I tried to find him on Facebook, I would never get any joy. I knew it was short and that it was hidden somewhere within the depths of my mind. It was always there on the tip of my tongue, but it never would come to me. I think it was self preservation, again. Protecting me from a painful part of my past that needed to remain where it was. However, that wicked thing called fate, was still not done with me. After those three cringe-worthy occasions, I was more determined than ever to find him on Facebook. So I typed in the name Will, and straight away a Will, with one mutual friend, appeared. As if by magic, his handsome face was right there before me. It felt as though something was wonderfully trying to weave our separate paths back together. It was as if we were meant to one day bump into one another again. So, ashamedly, I had a nose on his page. I had the chance to see a snippet of his #life via Facebook. I felt like an an unwelcome intruder, looking at some of his photo's and some of the things he had written. Feeling edgy, I read just a little about him. I don't know why, but I felt so utterly disappointed when reading his profile... Because, as expected, he had a partner and a young son. Did I dare to add him as a friend? Without even contemplating it, I stupidly sent a friend request. With Christmas just around the corner, I tried to occupy my mind with all things festive; choosing to forget all about my ignored friend request from Will. Not even the sweet treat of making some cinnamon snowmen biscuits, helped. His rejection hung heavy on my dejected, trying to be festive, shoulders. Once again, I felt angry with myself. Where in my stupid little mind, did I ever think that he would accept? So I purposely stayed away from town. I had to put Will in a remote place in my heart and mind... Yet again. *** Christmas came and went, but me and my friends all glammed it up for the Boxing Day Ball. We hadn't been for years, and wanted to take a trip down memory lane. It turned out to be one hell of a trip down memory lane, let me tell you. The Woo's Woo's kept on coming. I was letting my hair down and having some fun. It was during a drunken giggle fit, that I first saw Will. He was sat with some friends, looking relaxed and at ease. He was wearing that glorious look of interest, plastered all across his divine face, when our eyes slowly locked onto one another's. I tried to evade any eye contact with him, but my eyes really did love to defy me. So I kept finding myself looking directly at him, weakly smiling. A 'this is awkward, but I'll smile anyway' kind of a smile. To see him reciprocate mine, drenched me in the sweetest of relief. The cold, dark stare had gone, and was now replaced with a modest grin. I happily took that grin. Anything was better than being glared at. I decided to not drink anymore. In fact, all night long, I felt self conscious and edgy in his presence. I was pissed off, because he was STILL able to do that to me. My bladder eventually succumbed to all of the cocktails that had been previously consumed. Although I would have to walk past Will, I still needed to bloody pee. So, I carefully walked past him and his friends. My head was held high, and I prayed to God that I didn't slip or trip over; because frankly, when Will would fall into my #life... Things invariably did go wrong. I sat on the toilet, feeling like I wanted to run away. Too long had passed between myself and Will. He was now just a stranger and that hurt much more than I wanted to admit. After my, long but reflective, wee; I looked at my solemn reflection, shaking my head at it. Did you seriously think that you would one day just fall back into his forgiving arms? Did you honestly think that he would try to pick up from where you both left things twelve years ago? Those ridiculous questions bore right into me, as I stared back at my frowning reflection. I knew that I was no longer that twenty five year old Tess, and that Will was definitely no longer the twenty two year old, that I once fell in love with. I sighed deeply, digging out my clear lip gloss; gliding it over my lonely lips. I pouted at my reflection, stupidly feeling a little better with a bit of lippy on. Grabbing my bag, I walked out the door, ready to go back upstairs to the bar. I literally had to stifle a shocked gasp escaping from my mouth, when I looked up to see Will. Who was gorgeously leaning against the bottom of the wooden staircase with his arms casually folded. "Hello Tess." His voice was low and welcoming. It felt so good to hear his voice, especially when it was saying my name. "So you do remember me, then?" I asked with a curious, teasing and quirked brow. "How could I forget you?" He grinned, refusing to look away from me. I blinked at his reply, looking down at the floor. Confident Tess was indeed now screaming at me. Urging me to say something... Anything! "You look really well." I told him, nervously stroking my thigh. "You too." He straightened his stance, lowering his arms down by his sides. I tried to lighten the mood of the conversation, on edge by the way that he was looking at me. "Isn't it weird how we have not seen each other for years and years, then all of a sudden we keep bumping into one another?" I said with a nervous and slight smile. Will frowned, his lips teasingly pursed. "That's when you're not blanking me, that is?" I pulled my shoulders back, trying to appear confident. "The first time that I saw you in the supermarket, I honestly didn't twig that it was you." I quickly and nervously explained. Will looked at me hard, the corners of his mouth pulled up with amusement. "So you didn't blank me?" I coyly looked away, smirking at his question. "Not intentionally, no." I quietly replied. For the first time in twelve years, I was gifted his wonderful and natural smile that he so gorgeously possessed. He nodded, standing tall. "Why did you add me as a friend on Facebook?" His brows pulled together with his serious question, it had me squirming. I stepped back, holding up my hands. My way of surrendering to him. "I apologise about that. It was just seeing you, made me want to find you again. I had tried many times before, but with no luck." I felt stupid for admitting that. His head tilted, needing to know more. "Why have you been trying to find me, Tess?" Will's eyes deeply penetrated mine, searching for an answer. That's when I knew it was time. This was the moment that I had been waiting so long for. I couldn't mess it up now! With flushed cheeks and a cool nervousness rushing through my body, my moment began. "There are things that I've waited a long time to say, Will." My hands remained so rigid down by my sides, frozen with nerves. "Okay, I'm listening." Once again, he crossed his arms. I knew that he had no intention of making this easy for me. I bravely lifted my chin. "I have always wanted to say how sorry I was. How sorry, I still am. I have always wanted to apologise to you about what happened that night with Ed. I treated you terribly, for reasons that I'm not going to go into, right now. I just know that it was unforgivable. I really did feel something for you, I'm truly sorry for how I acted. I just wanted to let you know that." I finished my teary ramble, not wishing to look at him for too long. For an agonising and short moment, he said nothing. He only looked on at me in an emotionless way. Finally, he stepped closer. "Have you carried that around with you for twelve years?" His eyes roam my face, causing my heart to thump inside of my chest. "Yes." I mumbled, holding back my tears. "Why?" He gently asked. I sadly lifted my lashes. "I regret what I did." Will's expression softened. "We all do silly things, Tess." My eyes darted to his, begging for him to listen. "I let something wonderful slip through my fingers, Will." I shakily blurted out. Taking another step closer, he was now so close; I could appreciatively smell his intoxicating aftershave. My nostrils devoured all of his masculine scent, committing it to memory. Looking deeply into my blue eyes, he hesitates to touch my flushed cheek. Carefully, he trailed his gentle fingers across it. To feel his touch again, was heavenly. I leant my head against the palm of his soft hand, savouring it with closed eyes. Something beautiful was happening. I never wanted it to end. I wanted to freeze time and be forever locked in a precious pause. "You were very special, Tess." Will's solemn words brought my emotions to the brim. I sighed, my breaths shattered and broken. "I wish I could turn back the clock, Will." I said, tears filling my red-rimmed eyes. He smiled, a smile full of clarity. "But you can't. What has happened... Has happened. We are two different people now. I have a girlfriend and a beautiful son. Regardless of how we feel, Tess, nothing can and never will, happen between us... You understand that, don't you?" My eyes continued to fill with salty tears. He gently wiped some away, that had escaped my lower lid. I managed to nod, my chin violently quivering. "I know. I just wish that things could have been different." I admitted, looking just past his shoulder. Will smiled, sympathetically tilting his head. "But they aren't." He regretfully added. I knew that my moment was coming to an end. Only, I felt there was still more to say. "I'm so sorry for hurting you. I was a stupid, stupid cow for sleeping with Ed. I'm so.... " Will silenced me with his finger placed on my parted lips. "You have to let it go, Tess." He firmly told me. My shoulders dropped with sadness. "I thought I had, but seeing you again has made it all feel like it only happened yesterday." I said, looking away. He sighed loudly, then pulled slightly back from me. "Why do you think I didn't add you as a friend on Facebook?" He asked, frowning once again. "Because you hate me?" I answered, wiping a tear from my lip. Will studied me, his expression so sweet and caring. "I don't hate you." That's when I looked at the ground, unable to look at him anymore. "I hate myself." I angrily mumbled. Lifting my chin with his finger, he made me look at him. "Don't ever say that." His tone was serious, even cross. "The reason that I didn't add you as a friend, was because it felt better not to. It wouldn't be wise for us to see what's happening in each other's lives, Tess... It's better this way." I lowered my lashes, forcing them to gain more eye contact with him. "It should have been me with you, Will." I blinked back more salty tears, my body becoming overwhelmed with the hurt that flooded its aching veins. Will tapped on his heart. "In here, you always will be." He offered me only a small, sorrowful smile. Biting my lip hard, my chin quaked with desolate emotion. I desperately needed to put some distance between us. "I think I had better go, before I say something completely embarrassing." I replied, sadly turning away. Just as I'm about to wrench myself away, I felt him delicately take hold of my hand. Pulling me close against him, he looked up above him; to where some mistletoe hung prettily above us. We both stared at it, silently thinking about the significance of its being there; before his soft lips are lightly brought against mine. He delivered a sweet and cherished, goodbye kiss; holding my face in his departing hands until our kiss met its untimely ending. As our lips reluctantly separated, he whispered. "Goodbye Tess." "Goodbye, Will." I weakly replied. Then with nothing else needing to be said, the love of my #life, slowly walked back up the stairs; without even a backward glance to pacify me. Upset, I retreated back into the toilet cubicle. I don't know how long I was there for, until a couple of my friends finally came to find me. I had to tell them that my tears were because of a bad day and far too much alcohol. A barefaced lie, but it was all I could quickly think of. A necessary lie, that would prevent me from falling into shattered pieces on the floor. Now, I am back at home, lying in my bed; unable to sleep as the early hours creep in. My quiet thoughts are only of Will. The haunting memory of his parting kiss and his carefully said words. They are now the only things keeping me company in my darkened bedroom. Well, I finally got to say that I was sorry. During this festive time, I was given the blessing to lay past ghosts to rest. Was this part of the plan? Did fate play her wicked part in all of this? I only know that Will is just as sweet, as he was twelve years ago. That has only made a little part of me, love him even more. He is right, though. We are two different people now. Our lives are very different. We both belong with different people. Knowing that he does forgive me, helps. It also helps to know that somewhere deep inside of him, he'll always carry me around with him. I just know that I'll never forget tonight. I also hope that whenever Will looks up at mistletoe, he'll remember tonight, and our long awaited goodbye. I'll always love Will. There will always be a part of my heart, that shall forever belong to him, but sometimes, the right thing to do is... Let sleeping love lie.

Dale’s Doll Listening, listening while I wash up all of the breakfast bowls, cups and cutlery before needing to take my little girl to nursery and get myself to work on time. I like these moments. No, I love these moments. I treasure capturing my daughter sweetly and innocently chatting away to her toys before we both have to leave the house; usually in an hurried and stressful fashion. As a mother, I adore my precious pre-schooler. Delilah is a much-loved and much-wanted little girl, by both myself, and my husband of eight years. Having had two heart-breaking miscarriages before Delilah, each and every anxious month into the pregnancy with her, meant that both Vince and I, were getting ever closer to being the parents that we always longed to be. So when the dark haired Delilah was finally pushed out into the world, all of our hopes and our dreams were at last held by us—safely swaddled within the softest lemon-coloured blanket that we could buy. Our darling Delilah is a cherished child. A charming and sentimental child. As doting parents, we shower her with love and with everything that our little girl needs. Probably with more than she needs. And the dusty old doll that Delilah found at a car boot sale a few weeks back, is definitely something that she didn't need. It was so old and so worn, Vince didn't even want our sweet and clean little girl to pick the grubby doll up, at least not until he had a chance to disinfect it beforehand. Smiling now, I funnily remember how father and tiny daughter grappled over that tatty doll. How my thirty four year old husband tried to negotiate with our determined three year old daughter, trying to persuade her to choose any other toy but that one. But Delilah refused. Refused, with adorable tears in her pale hazel eyes. Those teetering tears on her innocent little lashes, meant that there was no way that either myself or Vince, could ever say no to our strong-willed little princess. Even the man selling the doll, seemed temporarily touched by how this ugly, scruffy old thing could captivate Delilah over all of the other toys that he was selling at the car boot sale. So touched in fact was he, he quickly gave the doll to Delilah and said that we owed him nothing for it. So that ugly, scruffy old doll came home with us on that sunny Sunday afternoon. And that ugly, scruffy old doll and Delilah have become inseparable. So inseparable, I flit between it being thought of as sweet and cute, to wondering whether I should actually be worried or not. Delilah calls the doll Dale, even though the doll is supposed to be female. But then again, we've got two female Guinea Pigs called Ant and Dec, so that itself doesn't overly worry me. Dale is now as clean as we could possibly get her. But she still has stains all over her plastic face and limbs, and her hair is now a cleaner mass of plastic-coated fuzz. But we are still not allowed to call Dale a she. If we do, Delilah always cutely pouts back at us, with her arms crossly folded up by her tiny little chest, saying. "He doesn't like that when you call him a she. He doesn't like it at all." Of course, we both laugh it off. Like amused parents do. But there's still a part of me that wonders whether the attachment that Delilah has to her doll is normal or not. When she has a bath, so does Dale. When she eats, Dale also has to have a plate. If we go anywhere, Dale has to come. At nursery, Dale has to go with her. Bedtime, Dale has to be tucked up safely beside her. There are no moments in the day or the night anymore, when Delilah doesn't have Dale with her. Pulling off my washing up gloves, I hurry over to where Delilah is with Dale and her other toys. "Come on, sweetpea...we're going to be late." Gently ushering her towards the hallway, I then reach for her lightweight jacket. "I don't need my coat, Mummy." Delilah tells me. Smiling down at her, I proceed to put it on. "We might have a little rain today, best to take it with you to nursery...just in case." Frowning up at me, in that adorable way that Delilah does, she confidently then replies back with. "It's not going to rain, Mummy." Then she tries pulling out one of her arms from the jacket. Sounding sterner now, I try putting her arm straight back into it. "Put your jacket on, Delilah." Pouting AND frowning, she sulkily does as she's told. "It's not going to rain today." Is her angry reply back. "Why are you so sure?" I jestingly ask, turning Delilah so she can now see my motherly smile upon my face. Delilah gloriously smiles. "Dale told me." With affection, I stroke the tip of her immensely cute nose. "Well, sweetpea, Dale is a doll, and dolls aren't that great about knowing the weather." As confident as can be, Delilah's answer comes out real quick. "Dale knows everything, Mummy." "Does she now?" I teasingly ask. Scolding me with her young stare, Delilah doesn't look happy. "Dale is a heeeeeeeeeee! He gets angry with you, Mummy, when you keep calling him a sheeeeeeeeeee!" Playing along with my feisty three year old, I look down at Dale, who is now tightly being held by Delilah. "I'm sorry, Dale...it won't happen again." To appease my little princess, I gently pat the doll on its scruffy head following my playful apology. Sighing softly and still not looking all too pleased with me, Delilah waits for me to open the front door so I can finally take her to nursery. "He knows that you don't mean that, Mummy." Opening the door for her, Delilah then happily skips out towards our car. As I am fastening Delilah securely into her car seat, she suddenly places her tiny little hand onto mine. "What does third time lucky mean, Mummy?" Her hazel eyes are wide with needing to know the answer to the question that she's just asked me. A little taken aback, I smile with a confused frown. "Um, I'm not sure what you mean...why do you ask, sweetpea?" With no smile, Delilah's reply comes back to me with no hesitation whatsoever. "I'm your third baby, Mummy. There were two more before me who couldn't be with you and daddy." I think the colour from my face must have all drained out. Shaken. Floored. And unexpectedly a little heartbroken. I truly don't know how to correctly respond to my little girl. "How...how do you know that, sweetpea?" My eyes meet with Delilah's, wanting the innocent and unknowing her to tell me how she could possibly know such a thing. Cuddling her doll ever tighter against herself, my darling daughter answers with soft yet chilling clarity. "Dale told me, Mummy...and heeeeeeeee knows everything." Chapter Two "It was weird, Vince...like really weird." Just thinking about what Delilah had said to me this morning, still coldly creeps up the length of my spine. "She has probably heard us talking about it." Vince tries to offer up a perfectly sensible explanation to me. "Mmm, maybe...but it's not something we have ever discussed in front of her, is it?" My husbands perfectly sensible explanation, no longer feels perfectly sensible at all. Getting into bed with a tired but reassuring smile, Vince reasons some more as he pulls me against his chest for an affectionate cuddle. "Maybe she's heard our parents talking about it or something?" Enjoying being in my husbands big and loving arms, I think for a second. "Mmm...maybe." Is warily mumbled from between my lips. Yes, our little girl could have maybe heard our parents talking about the miscarriages, but that explanation alone just doesn't settle me. That explanation alone, doesn't settle the worrying storm that's building momentum within me. Something isn't right. In the deepest and darkest depths of my maternal intuition...I just know that something isn't right. Chapter Three Day by day, I have been feeling like my beautiful little girl is being taken away from me. All she wants, is her tatty old doll. All her time and her affection, is spent with that tatty old doll. Maybe I have failed Delilah as a mother? Maybe I shouldn't have returned to work so soon? Maybe she's attached herself to a plastic doll, because she feels like I have unattached part of my motherly role to her? Vince thinks I'm overreacting, while I'm thinking he's not listening to my justified worries—and it's causing a lot of marital friction between us. I feel angry with him. Angry at myself. This is our doing. Delilah has become more dependent on a stupid doll, because she no longer feels like she can depend on us. Vince leaves the house at 60 AM and gets back just after 60 PM, while I drop Delilah at nursery for 8:30 AM and collect her at 50 PM—no wonder her separation anxiety has manifested itself into an unhealthy attachment to that old doll of hers. I had always planned on reducing my hours once Delilah had started school, because I felt it important that I could do the school runs in the mornings and the afternoons, but when I suggested to Vince that maybe I should reduce my hours now, he went off on one about me 'not sticking to the plan'. The plan, means nothing to me now. The plan, actually makes me furious. Vince, makes me even more furious. We should be putting Delilah first, not the stupid bloody plan! I'm losing my little girl. And it hurts. It hurts, that all of her time and her affection, now belongs to that damn doll. That needs to change. I need to change. I want my precious little girl, to want her mummy again. I want her to need me again. I want her to chatter and to giggle, with me. Since we bought her that stupid doll, I feel like too many things are changing—my marriage, my motherhood, my home #life—it's all slipping through my fearful fingers. Chapter Four The nightmares began, right about the same time as things began going wrong all around me—a load of files for work simply vanished from my computer, the boiler packed up, the car had a nail in one of its tyres—a succession of inconvenient bad luck. I don't know, I just feel like since that doll has come into our home, everything has been going wrong. It could be complete coincidence, it could just be a series of really unfortunate events; but for some strange reason, my gut is convincing me that all this sudden string of bad luck, stems from that grubby little doll. Which is why I have a plan. The unfortunate attachment that Delilah now has with her doll, well it's about time that it was severed. I spoke yesterday with the nursery teacher, and together, we have come up with a really good weaning-off-Dale plan. Each week, one of the children is going to be responsible for Mr Snuggles, a cute brown otter soft toy. The children will be encouraged to take care of the toy, to explore and try new things with it, then talk about their adventures with Mr Snuggles to everyone at the end of each nursery week. The nursery teacher said that if Delilah has Mr Snuggles first, it should be an exciting distraction from Dale. After a week with the cuddly toy otter, we are both hoping that Delilah's strong attachment to Dale will finally be broken. And once that strong attachment has been broken, Dale is going straight into the bin. That doll can go and rot with the rest of the rubbish. I just want the damn thing out of my house and out of Delilah's #life. I think all this recent worry, is the reason for the onset of my nightmares. Such awful and disturbing nightmares. The kind of nightmares that just stick to my waking consciousness. And it's always the same nightmare. The same and unforgiving, disturbing nightmare. There's a garden, a bright and beautiful garden. Then in an unnerving second, it's not. The garden becomes quietly gloomy, devoid of all colour and all birdsong. In this dream, I am trying to make sense of where the sunshine has gone, and it's while I am thinking about the missing sunshine, that I see Delilah. She's waving at me, calling out my name. So, I hurry to get to where she is. My legs are moving quickly, but Delilah doesn't seem to be getting any nearer. I start jogging, but she's still the same distance away from me. The garden is getting darker and darker, so I start running faster and faster—frantically faster. I just want to get to Delilah. I need to take her into my motherly arms. To keep her safe. To protect her from the dark garden. My heart is pounding, as are my feet against the shadowed dry grass. Still, I can't get to Delilah. Panicking, I start screaming. Screaming at the darkness. Screaming at being unable to reach my little girl. I begin crying at Delilah to run towards me, just begging her to stop waving and to just come to me. But she won't. She just smiles, and continues to wave. Then just as quickly, her smiling and waving stops. Eerily comes to a stop. The darkness is thickly now around us both. Enveloping us within its inky chill. All I can see of my little girl, is just the lightness of her skin on her preciously innocent little face. I keep watching her face. Watching it begin to smile again. A smile that no longer belongs to me. I plead with Delilah to look at me. Only me. No matter how hard I run or how loud I scream, I can't get to where she is and I can't get her to listen to me. My pleading turns to despairing sobs. My arms are outstretched to Delilah, desperately wanting my smiling little girl to come and fill them with the warmth of only herself. Then from out of the suffocating darkness, two monstrous arms appear behind Delilah, beginning to slowly engulf her. I expect Delilah to scream. To scream out in petrified terror. But she doesn't. Instead, my little girl starts to giggle. Then she excitedly and so sweetly talks to those arms that are about to swallow her up. "Dale! Dale!" She calls out, just as those monstrous arms fully engulf her whole and then disappear back into the darkness from which they first came. That's when I wake up. I always wake just as my little darling has been taken by those sinister arms. I always wake, unsettled and with my heartbeat thundering between my ears and in my stressed-out chest. There's something about that doll that I don't like. That I don't like and that I confusingly now fear. It may seem irrational. It may seem stupid. That's exactly what Vince thinks as well. But I don't care. I only care about getting rid of that doll...which is why the plan has to go ahead. Chapter Five I know someone is talking to me, only their words are coming out sounding so distant and so distorted. Staring at their moving lips, I'm trying so hard to take in all that is being spoken from that mouth—from all that is being so disturbingly said. "We're all just trying to get our heads around it. We are just so shocked and saddened to find out that she's gone." Leah gravely stares at me, before needing to emotionally look down at the floor. "I just can't believe this has happened to her." Quietly comes my reply, sounding stunned and at a complete loss for comforting words to offer. "I know, it's just so unbelievably sad." Leah sniffs back all of her emotions, trying to professionally hold herself together because she knows she has a nursery full of lively young children, who are all innocently unaware and playfully oblivious to the tragic loss of her colleague and her longtime friend. Offering a weak and sadly given smile, I decide it's time for me to go. Trying to get Delilah's attention, who is happily already playing with the wooden kitchen and wanting Dale to take a sip of the imaginary drink that she's only just made, I lovingly wave across to her. "Bye Delilah, I'll see you later...have fun, darling!" Waving back at me, my little girl gives me the most sweetest of high-cheeked grins. "Bye mummy!" She calls out, before giggling at Dale while she's wiping the plastic chin of her doll using the sleeve from her pink crocheted cardigan. With heavy feet, I turn to leave. "I'll see you later." I gloomily say, suddenly feeling unsure of whether or not I should actually leave Delilah this morning. All the staff are wearing such forced smiles, trying their very best to just keep doing their jobs, all the while so deeply upset about the death of Debbie—their friend and their manager. She was fondly all of that to them, but to me, she was selfishly also the one who was going to help me to wean Delilah away from Dale. Now, I just feel kind of lost, sad and so directionless. As I give one last lingering glimpse to my very happy young daughter, I know that she's going to be completely unaffected by the untimely death of Debbie today...so I turn and finally do leave. All the way to my car, seeds of anxiety begin to take firm root within me. As I turn on the ignition, I feel like ice is now flowing through my veins. Debbie's death is troubling me, so deeply troubling me. I know that accidents happen every single day, but I have this frightening sense that this was no accident at all. Debbie slipping in the shower and hitting her head so hard on the taps that she instantly dies, just seems so unreal to me. Unreal and unnerving. This deeply embedded feeling that this is much more than just a freak and horrible accident, just doesn't want to leave me. The very same can be said for this headache that I have as well. As I am driving along, it feels like my forehead is being excruciatingly squeezed tight. Grimacing at the pain, I focus hard on the road ahead. I focus on safely getting myself to work, where I can take something for this horrific pain. Everything is just going wrong. My marriage. Motherhood. Work. Debbie's death. My headaches. None of it is a coincidence. They are all an occurrence. An occurrence since that ugly doll came into our lives. There is something really wrong with it. It might sound far-fetched and it might sound completely and utterly irrational, but my gut is telling me what it knows—that hideous doll is cursed. "Jesus!" The pain in my temples, causes me to now loudly cry out. My face is contorting with the blinding agony. It feels just like skewers are being very slowly pushed and turned right into the centre of my head. Pressing down on the brakes, I know I need to pull over, because the piercing pain is now making it unsafe for me to drive. Knowing what I have to do, I indicate left, wanting to hurriedly just get to the side of the road, but just as I am, the agony intensifies. It's now excruciating. I can no longer see. I'm screaming loudly in distress. Loudly traumatised by the tormenting discomfort. I become absolutely immobilised by my own membrane misery....until I literally cannot take it anymore. Chapter Six I am back in the garden, the bright and beautiful garden that I have come to know so well. Just like it always does, the garden soon becomes dark and so eerily quiet. I wait for Delilah to appear, just like she always does, but instead, I see a tall and wide man—looking so sad and so vulnerable while he's pruning back a shadowed yellow rose bush. Then in just a blink of an eye, I am no longer in the gloomy garden, I am now standing in the corner of a bedroom. The tall and wide man is sat in a chair, hunched over someone who is lying unnaturally motionless in the bed. "Mummy! Don't go! Please don't leave me, Mummy!" His deep and distraught voice sounds so despairing; so despairing and childlike. I watch as this large framed man, cries like a baby over the death of his mother. While I wonder how I am to react to all that I am seeing, I am once again, back in the bright and beautiful garden. I can hear the birds. I can smell the aroma of the flowers. I can feel the suns rays shining down on me. And that's when I see them; a group of about six men, all looking wild and ferocious as they angrily enter the garden. "Dale Dodds, where are you, you thick freak?" One viscously shouts. That's when I see the big man, who has a doll under one of his large and muscled arms, with a butterfly sat on the top of his other hand. He is smiling, enjoying the simple pleasure of the butterfly stretching out its wings while it sits on the top of his strong hand in the sun. This man is a gentle giant. Gentle in his manner and defenceless as a human being. The more I watch him, the more I realise that he doesn't have the mental age that a man of his stature should have. His smile is childlike. His demeanour is inexperienced. His eyes are full of immature wonder. "We're coming for you, you sick perv!" Another man from the angry mob shouts out. "We know you killed little Lizzie! The police might think you didn't, but we know you did...you've always been the village weirdo!" When Dale notices them, he looks terrified as they angrily approach him. Not wanting the butterfly to get hurt, he gently places it on a rose, before trying to run towards the safety of his small cottage. "I didn't hurt Lizzie. She was my friend. She was nice to me!" He huffily explains, while just trying to reach the safety of his back door. "You sick shit! You did hurt her! You did sick things to her before strangling all of the #life from out of her little body! You did that! You did that, you perverted freak!" The first man spits back. "And now, you're gonna get what's coming to you!" Dale is trying to get away, but his hulk of a frame and how his huge sized feet both turn inwards, prevent him from being quick enough. In no time, two of the mob dive onto his back. Once Dale is down on the ground, they drag the doll out from under his arm. "What grown man plays with dolls, huh? What sick shit pushes them around in a pram, huh?" One of the men is now dangling the doll by its leg, angrily jerking it around in front of Dale's terrified face. "Give me back my doll, that was Mummy's favourite." Dale sobs, reaching up for it with his arms desperately outstretched. All of the mob just laugh at Dale. They are laughing at his desperation. Laughing at his low IQ. At his vulnerability. "Well your mummy isn't here, freak!" With that, the man rips off the head of the doll. "She's gone and so will you be!" He then rips off the arms and legs of the doll, cruelly enjoying the cries of Dale who is being brutally held down onto the grass. "Stop it! You're hurting her!" Dale continues to plead and sob. Dangling just the torso of the destroyed doll, with only a sneer of pure satisfaction spread all over his cruel face, the lead man of the savage mob throws it hard at Dale. "What? Just like you hurt little Lizzie?" He then violently kicks the gentle giant right in the mouth with his big black boots. "This has been a long time coming, freak! You killed Lizzie. It's time to pay for that." All of the violent vigilantes then begin their vicious and unforgiving attack. They kick, punch and pound Dale. This beating is personal. Viciously personal. The kicks are powerful. The punches are brutal. The poundings are sickening. I start screaming at them to stop. But they can't hear me. They don't even know I am there. But I know. I know I am there, and I can't watch them killing Dale. I can't watch it a moment longer. With my crying eyes covered. I just want it to end. I just want it to stop. And just like that, I get my wish. I'm surrounded by cold darkness. Cold and merciless darkness. It's so quiet. Too quiet. I am surrounded by a nothing. Immersed in a chilling nothing. Then, a television suddenly comes on. Amidst the cold darkness, only the light from the screen can be seen. It's a news report. The sound isn't on, but I can clearly read the headline: Innocent Man Is Found Beaten To Death. Lizzie Loustan's Real Killer Has Finally Been Arrested. Dale was killed for nothing. Because he was different, he was murdered. Now knowing this, the darkness begins to slowly disintegrate all around me. Glittery shards of light are disbanding the cold shadows that chillingly still surround me. And I hear voices, voices that I know, voices that I want to be nearer to. The nightmare is beginning to end. I'm beginning to wake. I will myself to now fully wake up. I long, to just be warmly awake again. Chapter Seven "She's waking! Thank God, she's waking!" Stroking the side of my face, I hear the relieved voice of my husband. "You're okay, my darling...you're going to be okay now." I feel his soft lips, gently kissing my forehead. With my weak eyelids fluttering, I try to keep them open long enough to see his worried face looking down at me. "Wh...what...happened?" Weakly passes my dry and sore lips. "You and the car had an argument with a tree, and lived to tell the tale." Vince feebly tries to joke, before feeling the desperate need to lean over and kiss me again. "I thought we had lost you." He so sadly goes on to say, lovingly now caressing my jawline. "I don't know what I would have done if I had—" he looks so emotional, so choked up. "Hey, I'm okay." I wearily tell my forlorn husband, feeling so happy that it's his face that I first woke up to. "Where's Delilah?" I anxiously ask, suddenly feeling the need to have her beside me. In a loving and assuring way, Vince comforts me with more of his husbandly caresses and a small smile. "She's just outside with mum and dad, I'll get her in a minute." He then frowns, sighing a little while he does. "What happened, Jules?" His fingertips gently trace across my bruised brow and forehead as his concerned eyes stare down at me. Trying to remember, it hurts to even think. "I'm not sure. I had this awful headache. It got so bad, that I tried to pull over...that's the last thing I remember." Quietly satisfied, Vince smiles again. "I know things haven't been great between us, but I love you, Jules...I want you to know that." Content to hear his loving words, I reach for his hand. "I know, and I love you." Lacing our united hands together, we both fall quiet for a little while. Just glad I think, to be able to have this feeling of togetherness again. "Did you hear about Debbie from the nursery?" I weakly ask, beginning to remember all of the horrible events before I had my car accident. Nodding with understanding, Vince holds onto my hand even tighter. "It's not exactly been a good day, has it?" He's looking at me now, smiling softly. It is while Vince is smiling at me, that the enormity of what has happened today suddenly hits me—Debbie, my headache, the nightmare—it all unnervingly hits me. "Vince, I need to talk to you about Delilah and that—" "Mummmmmmmmmmy!" Our eager little girl comes running over to the hospital bed, interrupting all that I was just about to say to her daddy about her doll. "Sweetpea! I'm so glad you're here!" Elated to see my darling daughter, my aching arms are waiting for her to just fill them. We cling tightly to one another, with such happiness and such love. "You got a baddie, Mummy." Her tiny fingers point to an aching cut that I can feel I have on my cheek. Smiling away the ache, I nod gently. "I do, but baddies don't last for long, do they?" Delilah blinks quickly, cutely pursing her cherub-like lips. Then, bringing up her doll, to sit it right onto my slightly sore stomach, she is now beaming in my direction. "Don't worry, Mummy. Dale said he can keep the baddies away." Looking into the brown eyes of Delilah's doll, I see the same dark nothingness that had surrounded me in my nightmare. I want to look away, but can't. I want to ignore the empty gaze, but can't. Trying to sound cheerful, I look back at Delilah. "That's good to hear, sweetpea. I'm sure Dale will take very good care of me...of all of us." In my nightmare, Dale was a gentle giant; a gentle giant who had been wrongly murdered. Our little princess now grins, holding her beloved doll by its waist. "Yaaaaaaaay Mummy! Dale said you would learn to like him. Yaaaaaaaay!" She excitedly bounces where she's sat closely beside me, still holding her doll in place on my stomach. Gazing into the dark depths of emptiness in Dale's eyes, I know that I can't fight this. He is here to stay. He showed me why and how he has ended up here. He has also shown me the lengths that he will go to, just to ensure that he stays. So no, I can't fight this. Dale isn't just a doll. He is a dead man inside a doll. In #life, he felt like he had no control. In death, Dale does.

Norma No Mates No More! I’m in! I’m in! *Sashays in with a grin. No longer locked out. Jeez, I’m jumping all about. Yes! I’m finally here. In the new Opusia. *a background cheer So hello my dear friends. *A warm hand extends. As you can see. I have a vodka martini. See you at the Opusia bar. I shan’t go far.

Once Upon An Opuss I feel like I should write a few words. Words that are poignant but few. Words that truly express, my feelings so true. Opuss. Where my words began, remain and will more than likely end. A place that feels like such a dear old friend. But friends change. They evolve, diversify and beautifully grow. And true friends stay together, they never let go. So, my changing dear. That is what I'll do. I will stay by your side. I will stay, with my written love and my authorly pride. All of you who reign within her. I shall lovingly stick with you too. After all, that is what a true Opussian always does do. By Kim