Thenceforth, the sunbeams penetrated the stained glass windows of the Aries' deluxe property. Hence, Ange had to ultimately relinquish her cumbersome doldrums, which were in turn strenuously crammed and sealed in the Pandora's Box. When Alain was gaily squeezing his pulchritudinous wife's shoulder blades, the lucent grins of the couple foreshadowed an intense longing for hearing the pitter-patter of little feet. Latterly, the diligent partner volitionally chose to wallow in a family lunch over his work. In an over-ornate ivory white sitting room, Alain's erstwhile copartner, Angela's associate, along with Mrs. Sophie and Mr. Stéphane then foregathered to revel in that rapturous news. Parenthetically, Mr. Adrien became bankrupt after he had been accused of embezzlement. He started to tipple ever since he was released on bail from Mr. Aries. The aftermaths of his foregone shock were still discerned from the ways he dressed and communicated with the world. Whilst Ms. Emon, who was a recent relict, headed an orphanage for emigrants in collaboration with Ange and her mother-in-law. As a newborn, she had been cursed by covetous hands in a lilac purple hospital nursery. Ms. Emon thereupon suffered the death of her biological parents. And pauperism stretched its dark wings over her childhood phase. With only chortles of forsaken children her curse of misery was frustrated to thence help her to spring to life.
On the full wolf moon eve, Angela eventually determined to divulge the truth in a personal letter. After her spouse had fallen into a dead sleep on a fancy purely classic French-style bed, she had kept vigil adjacent to a slightly open window while looking into a miscellaneous mirror. As the memory of the deceased inspirited her to set the truth free from the dungeon of her brain, Ange gripped with her inert hands an elegant quill and a white paper sheet from the last drawer of her burlywood dressing table. On a dim light of a sleek Sherwood pink Iris lamp, she wrote:
Dear Lior,
By the time you will wade through this letter, you will surely have heard multiple erroneous versions of my true identity. So here I am to state the veridical justifications to enshroud my truth for my dear one for many years. I bet that I am a craven. However, I should never be misjudged because fear of losing my beloveds silenced me with might and main for a long haul. I wherefore decided to call you: Lior. Now, you're the only one who holds the key to unchain the truth from hawsers of my trepidation. Accordingly, you may wonder why I exactly named you Lior. Thus, my role, for now, is to provide you with a cogent answer. This morning, your mama and dada paid a visit to orphan kids to offer them generous boons to meet all their needs in your honor. We there chanced on a comely blind girl who softly touched my belly and then said: "Your baby shall be your light". Everybody definitely looked stunned at this scene. We all had many questions to ask, but I chose to follow my intent rather than be engulfed by curiosity. Your mama, therefore, thought of Lior as a suitable name for you. And your dada believed likewise.
In this sentence, the memory of that dainty girl made her wonder if she is truly a miracle as people assume or the opposite once Angela remembered her saying: "Your baby is your only way to release yourself from the shadow of your past". On her mental odyssey to reach the truth about that little girl, the six specters enkindled loathing against her by thinking she is part of them. Before they besieged Ange and clamored: "We sent Marvel to especially congratulate you on your pregnancy," a winter waft had extinguished the light. While she clung to her leg and squalled: "Believe your heart, Mrs. Aries!" To her confusion, Angela adjured the six shadows of wickedness not to gash her baby. By a happy chance, the gleam of the light roused her after the lost soul of Amel had patted her back and spoke in an undertone: "Stand strong my sweeting and go on!" Upon these cheering words, Ange resolutely went back into her writing.
The clock strikes, right now, midnight. And at the same exact hour of an olden day of my childhood, the course of my life went astray. The play of the happy family thence came to an end upon my dad's smarting words: "I deserve to be happy with another woman rather than you in my life". From hence, my father forsook me and my mother for the sake of his first true love. However, he didn't make it that clear back then. We did know his true intention after rumors had spread about his planned quick marriage. So, I was just taken as an inane excuse for their unstoppable divorce. After I was inflicted by fever, my egocentric dad inculpated my mother on being irresponsible. My mother and all women of the village thus pointed their fingers at me as a cursed girl. It seems funny, isn't it? But, this is the absolute truth that nobody can deny. The truth of how a single selfish man could brainwash numberless women for his sake with ease. The truth of how everybody took me as an easy victim, and none ever questioned if that was even wrong. I then became blithely neglected and disregarded overnight. I would lie to myself if I say they didn't succeed in making me feel guilty; they absolutely did. And I am still fighting till now to vanquish this factitious feeling. Myriad of ordeals henceforth arose to steer the irksome journey of my life.
Writing about the winter times of her life reminded her of the first parlous way she had to take in her father's egoistic interests. To keep their dignity, they forever vacated their happy home toward the abode of the damned in the next village. Her mother hied down to her hometown so that nobody from the neighborhood would spot her. Whereas the little Ange was glued by the muck of the potato fields under a dense downpour of rain and thunders. At the noon of night, no man was out to rescue her from the trapping nightmare. The yelping dogs and the chasing snakes, however, invigorated her to runagate. As soon as she reached her targeted destination, she had to spend a white night out of doors because of her fear to find no defender from her own flesh and blood by her side. Despite the howling wolves, her involuntary outward stay was quite restful after she had found in darkness a congenial company. At the crack of dawn, they were not the falling sun rays upon her flaky skin, which could subdue her weariness. Rather, it was the soft touch of a humane burgher, which could instantly waken her. Angela felt, at this point, gravid with more memories to pen them down in the following passage:
At first light, my grandparents wrote another chapter for my mom in order to film her disgraceful trail of divorce. And with her full approval, she blindly accepted to instantaneously remarry that stranger, who saw his dead daughter in me. The groom was indubitably chosen by my grampy. And if you wonder why a rich townie consented to wed my mother. Well, I prefer not to think about it. Yet, the sure thing is that mom acted kind toward me only in his presence because I was the only key to her successful marriage. So, whenever he got absent from home, she used to manifest all her hate against me through diverse emotional abuse tactics. Her aim was obviously to constantly blame me for her ineluctable loss of my father. To my nana and papa, I regularly used to escape her ill-treatment. But, they never gave me right. Things went even further after mom bore two boys, who later became my inescapable nightmares.
Remembering her eldest step-brother's smack of repugnance across her guileless face made her forthwith groan. As the pain felt so real, she checked herself in the mirrored glass of the window. She then ingeminated his statement: "You are doomed to misery, abandoned girl!" After recalling the adverse incidents which preceded her ensued trauma, she wantonly recorded:
I did live in a society that venerates man as a blessing from God. I believe you can guess how I was regarded among my siblings. I was humiliated indeed. My mom would have been likewise if she didn't give birth to a boy. Therefore, she sought safety between the wings of her two sons at every turn. Whereas my life turned into a real hell. I just had to abide by my eldest step-sibling's senseless rules not to protect me, but to subjugate me. My younger step-brother was, of course, his subordinate. He helped him to execute ruthless punishments in case I objected. I was not allowed to carry on my studies after reaching puberty. I was not permitted to meet and hang out with my female friends. I was never granted the right to choose and buy my own clothes. My big brother never let me attend the wedding parties in the neighborhood. He didn't enable me to eat with the family around one table even at times when I fell sick. I had to feed upon the leftovers even though it was me who always used to cook for them. I was daily compelled to wake up early to milk the two strong cows and the three puny goats at dawn. Every winter, I was coercively taken to the fields to harvest cabbage all alone. And every summer, I had to help in reaping the golden grains of wheat. If I ever tried to think to speak up for myself, my little brother would lock me into my room for a whole week. Or he would drag me to the barn to sleep over there in squalor. It's not only that. My little brother did shave my slick long hair many times and did ask everybody in the house to call me "Raid" instead of my female name for an entire month. I did remain silent about many more things, but I couldn't stay quiet that day. How would I as long as my big brother insisted on my marriage with an infamous womanizer from the village? It was that day I for the first time said "No!" to him face-to-face. And it was that day my leman saved me from the bloodthirsty hands of my brother.
Recalling her suitor made her heart beat so fast. The question is whether these heart beatings were out of surprise for his sudden advent or fear of what had happened to her later. She met him first at school, wherein they innocently fell in love with each other. And he afterward used to work in the fields of her stepfather just to see her from afar. On March 20th, he promised to marry her and save her from her infernal life. However, he disappeared the next day. After one year of woes, her beau came back not to free her, but to incapacitate her heart by cheating on her with her preferred cousin.
On August 30th, I and my man tied the knot; and my big brother was a witness to my wedding. Naturally, you may question the moment you read this sentence how my step-sibling simply allowed this marriage to happen without any nodus. Well, he didn't care that much as far as his true intention was to estrange me from his dad. My big brother was afraid that I will inherit them all after the death of my clement stepfather. I, in turn, didn't waste any second thinking about this matter. In contrast, I was jumping for joy on marrying my saver. However, on our nuptial night, I discovered that I am trapped in a big lie after my husband had whispered in my right ear: "You are still dreaming if you think I would marry a foundling out of love". He then sniggered at me and said: "I had to save you to serve me. And now it is your turn to sacrifice a piece of your soul for me and your cousin". I can't really limn how I felt at that moment. But, I will never be able to forget how he and my cousin made me feel that day. Let's just say a man is still a man! He fancies more his lust. Yet, how could my cousin allow this to happen? How could she dare to ruin the nestle of a destined couple? I thought we were best friends. However, it seems envy had blinded her heart. In short, I slipped away from my big brother's torture to be ensnared in the trap of my heartless husband. He threatened to besmear my dignity if I ever tried to tell everybody his truth. So, I had to accept the deal. I mean I had to bid my baby boy for freedom. I didn't succeed only after a coon's age. During that period of time, I thus bore insults, stonewalling, sexual assault, and many more things. After my first male baby was born, my cousin relentlessly took him away from my bosom. I couldn't even smell my neonate. The worst thing of all is that my ex-husband didn't keep his promise. His first wife fanned his flames of anger against me after telling him that I am thinking to flee and expose their lies to the public. He, therefore, incarcerated me in a derelict bedroom with a brittle roof until that day came. On November 9th, my destiny liberated me by a heavy storm, which ripped off the roof. From hence, I scampered in dark to the next village, where my biological dad happily lived with his new family. However, he secretly followed my shadow until he snatched me in my father's house. What a streak of bad luck! His wife and daughters didn't verily know who I am. They opened their house for me after feeling sympathetic toward me. And when my ex-husband attacked me in front of them, they threatened him by calling the police if he doesn't let me go. My little step-sister was sharp-witted because she made sure that the attacker will be caught under her alarming screams to fetch help from the villagers. Whilst I took the opportunity to purloin my dad's annual savings, which were hidden underneath his plain clothing box. And then I absconded toward the bourn of the land to get my freedom. The thing that you have to know is that you do have two sisters and a brother in the opposite world. And I do love all of you. This is basically all about my other side, which your dada doesn't have knowledge of for now.
I am yearning to meet you, my everything.
With oodles of love,
Your mama "Ange".
When the dawning light fulgurated the bedroom, Angela dozed off on her Acadia white velvet dressing table chair after caching her letter in a bedizened wooden keepsake memory box in the mid pull-out drawer of a wenge closet. Her haunting past evoked meanwhile a delightful memory of her merrily running in the green fields with a little baby to chase the nuthatches with a yellow beak. Yet, her gratifying dream disappeared as soon as her spouse lovingly lifted her to put her into bed. An ensuing nightmare abruptly loomed up to ruin her day. Whence she saw herself intercepted by a blackout. However, her undaunted soul encouraged her to follow the sinister sound of an unknown. She fearlessly climbed the long stairs, which led to her bedroom. With every pace, the sound got clearer, and she could recognize the doer. As fear pulverized her boldness, a familiar angel fluttered around her to say: "Face your fear, sweetie!" She bravely entered her bedroom to find someone hidden under a blanket on her bed. When she took off the cover from the sound maker, she unexpectedly found her dead father who promptly strangled her with his gray hands. Ange had her lucky rescue after feeling Alain's fingertip caress on her red nose. She then got up upon his breezy voice: "I have a surprise for you, my lovey".
The moment he took away his hands from her sanguine eyes, Ange swooned with surprise at the wondrous change of the glasshouse. Amid an empyrean butterfly garden, an upscale portable water rain curtain that was festooned by a bunch of pale blue Bluestar flowers bewitched her. As she came closer, the scent of the surrounding orange Lantana, pink Phlox, and purple Heliotrope bushes vitalized her won-out soul. To her dubiety, she requested her husband to pinch her cheek to see if this was all not a dream, but the reality. Alain instead suspended the digital water curtain to enthrall her mind with the resplendent background of the white Wisteria that enclasped the Brimstone, Green Hairstreak, Holy Blue, Orange-tip, Ringlet, and wood white butterflies. On her left, Angela was remarkably thrilled by a Bösendorfer piano. She by return played "Le Vent, Le Cri" with rapture while looking on the top of her piano at Ennio Morricone's portrait with his own autograph underneath. At her back, a Venetian mirror between her two old but high-priced violins glamorized the plain wall. The two bounding pots of Black Eyed Susan flowers added even more an artistic touch to this expressive side. In the adjoining part, a wooden playpen with a mellow yellow play mat, a butterfly Emerald green crochet rattle, and a teal silicone baby teether inwards; a butterfly Seville orange tunnel pool with balls; and a macrame swing for their newborn were secured. While facing the Renaissance-style door, Ange scuttled to her right side to fondle her six paintings with vanity lights. Whence a medley of yellow, green, blue, orange, and brown butterflies flocked around them to beguile any beholder. The artworks in turn delineated a pregnant woman in the lea, a portrait of a married couple, a brunette woman on a glassy bridge holding hands with her four kids, a realistic portrayal of a wedding in the Tuileries Garden, and a trapped damsel by ten sadists. On a Liseran purple velvet stool, Angela comfortably sat to try new colors on her blank painting paper pad. At her back, a coral pink bubble swing, an arch floor lamp, and a thistle purple leaning bookshelf were specially chosen to quench her thirst for knowledge. Above the bookcase, a set of scented candles were arranged, and tens of Hugo's books were hoarded. On the corner of the fronting side, a white reading chair with a personalized yellowish-green butterfly clock was fixed for their baby. And within a periwinkle blue modular bookshelf, a handpicked collection of famous Grimm's fairy tales were amassed to boost a vivid imagination for their infant.