OPHELIA: Chapter 57
Blurb
Elizabeth Lockwick wants one thing… to ensure Ophelia remains dead.
For years she’s weaved a life seen through rose-coloured glasses in idyllic Vermont with her husband Sebastian Lockwick, an alluring man with a broken moral compass, whose intent lies in protecting his wife. However, apart from her unorthodox understanding of Sebastian’s dark and gritty hidden nature, she finds herself slipping away from her sanity in maintaining this picturesque life.
After receiving a gruesome gift from an unknown sender threatening to expose her, she finds herself haunted and possibly hunted by her buried past.
In order to make things right for herself and ensure that her secret is hidden, she reluctantly travels back to her sleepy small hometown in Wisconsin. A town where young girls seem to be mysteriously disappearing. There, she reunites with the dysfunctional Pierre-Louis’, a French-American family who sheltered her in their manor in her time of need.
With time slipping away, she struggles with her guilt and a dangerous affair and realizes that perhaps Ophelia wasn’t dead after all these years.
Elizabeth suddenly finds herself caught in a game of cat and mouse, unsure of which she really is this time and who she can trust.
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Chapter 57
San Gimignano, Tuscany, Italy.
Journal Entry No. 184
Tuesday April 23rd, 4:15pm.
I sit here writing as I look outside my small Northern window. I see a great vast land before me. There is something about this scene that brings me immense peace. Sometimes I think that I’m dreaming. I pinch myself to ensure I’m fully awake. I often had dreams such as this in the past here with Stefan. And yet, here I am, with our little kitten curled up asleep on my lap. This is real. I wonder sometimes the cost of getting this, but I must remind myself that I am deserving of such happiness.
Journal Entry No. 185
Wednesday April 24th, 9:45pm.
I went to the market with Stefan today, we stopped by to visit Mya at her new job. She’s happy. Healing. Painting had been such a cure for her, Stefan had been such a good mentor. Vivian and Charlie seemed to also have made a lovely pair, they decided to leave Rose Gap with us. They live not too far away from Stefan and I but I’ve already made that entry. It’s just that, his proposal to Vivian had been such a surprise even I didn’t suspect it. I just didn’t expect it. Then again, I hadn’t expected the relationship between Stefan’s family and I to turn into such a beautiful thing. They visit us, especially Florence. We visit them. And for once, I can say I do look forward to visit Rose Gap. I’ve never been happier.
It took me too long to realize that my pain was never my enemy. All I’d ever done was run away from it. I hadn’t realized that I had been running backwards all my life, or rather in circles. How could I have gotten over this pain if I never allowed myself to go through it? All this time, I had to go through it to get out. Perhaps, that is the only way.
Rose Gap has changed since the Officials got involved with its affairs and authority. Even though I visit with Stefan, Vivian never goes back there. I do not blame her. Her mother wanted nothing to do with her after Terilla’s arrest. Isaac and her mother filed for a divorce as far as I know. And somehow, the town seems breathable. Somehow, I believe that the town can finally see its dawn, after so many years in a suffocating darkness. Somehow, everything is okay.
Journal Entry No. 186
Thursday April 25th, 2:00pm.
I found a piece Stefan wrote. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Je pense que la Vie est une étrange personne. Elle m’a conduit sur ce chemin étrange entre les levers et couchers de soleil jusqu’à un village nommé Questions. Nous nous sommes arrêtés au lac nommé Réponses dans lequel j’ai noyé mes peines en attendant son ami, le Temps.
Le Temps était curieux, jamais en retard ni en avance, toujours avançant au même pas, sans jamais quitter son frère jumeau la Raison – qui le suivait toujours sans Raison.
Comme avec la Vie, nous nous sommes assis ensemble sur l’herbe froide et humide cet après-midi où elle m’a dit qu’elle était mienne tant qu’elle serait heureuse de respirer. Et c’est en ce jour que je suis tombé amoureuse de ma Vie.
I think that Life is a strange person. He drove me down this strange road between the sunrise and the sunset, through a village called Questions. We stopped at a lake called Answers while i drowned my sorrows as we awaited his friend, Time. Time was oddly particular indeed- never late nor early, always stumbling along at perfect pace, never leaving anywhere without his twin brother Reason- for Reason always followed anyway. As for Life, we sat together on the cold damp grass that afternoon where he turned and told me he is mine for as long as he is blessed with breath. And that was the day I fell in love with my Life.
Journal Entry No. 187
Saturday April 27th, 11:25pm.
Sometimes I see him. I see his face in a dream. Half burnt, yet beautiful.
And then, there are times I’d see him in between the crowds of the street. Far away. Never too close. I know those eyes. His face would be covered with a scarf. There would be a sadness in his eyes, calling out to me. I’d want to reach out to him. And yet, a warning, to stay away. To stay where I am. To not come any closer. To keep moving forward.
I need to remind myself he’s dead.
That day. The fire. The place had been completely consumed in the fire. George Markle said an anonymous man gave him a folder which held all evidence of the dead girls of the town. They said the man disappeared, even gone back into the fire for something. This was Sebastian Lockwick. Sebastian was dead. They declared him to be dead. And yet, his body nor remains were ever found.
I try not to talk about him. I try not to think about him, but how could I not?
How could I not…
when sometimes I see him, and sometimes I don’t.
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