Staying up late into the night, I type on.
I type a letter after another.
Going back to the first sentence and clicking delete button twice as much as I typed.
I wanted to define life.
A definition I didn't find.
That's when I heard the telephone ringing.
Waking me from my intense gaze at the screen.
Walked up to the ringing telephone.
Saying a silent halo, I heard a more sorrowful and yet Lauder voice.
"madame, votre mari est mort au combat. c'était un bon soldat."
"Huh"
"nous sommes désolés madame, de l'argent sera mis à la disposition de votre famille en récompense du travail acharné de votre mari. reste béni"
Without a word, I heard a ding, ding, ding from the telephone. He was off the phone already.
My husband...
I tried calling the number back. Maybe my french wasn't good enough. I couldn't make the right extraction from what he said. I must have been mistaken.
But the telephone just went dead everytime I tried calling.
With tears running down my cheeks. I remembered every single time he held my hand and gave me that cracked smile.
It was the only language we spoke and understood. I married him because no one will marry a girl from the house of Kem. We were the cursed family. A family cursed by the green witch of Becheam. My grandfather's, father was accused of killing her daughter, Cara. Since then, my family and I have been labeled the cursed one. We got married among each other. A Kem married a Kem. But this man, changed everything by agreeing to marry me. Yes not out of love but pity.
My parents accepted in a haste. It was The first time in many years someone who wasn't a Kem married into my family. With hopes of having a child who will clear off the curse, I married him to save the family.
But now, I just couldn't stop the tears. My now wet dress, looked a lot more wretched than it was, drenched in tears. This wasn't the plan. I had birth no child for him. I have left the Kem family down.
Tip, tip, tip, sounds coming from the water dripping down the ceilings, a dog backing just down the streets and my sobs sounding lower and lower. The man who married me out of pity for my family have now beared the curse of the green witch. Death. Looking at the picture frame hanging from the half broken wall, I saw those small eyes piercing through my heart. With a whisper, " it's all your fault".