A surge of questions floods my mind. How did they manage to rescue me from the depths of despair? And why do I find myself trapped in this scorching wasteland? The mysteries surrounding my situation deepen, their answers just beyond my grasp.
"My Lady, you are awake," one of them speaks, their voice filled with a mixture of relief and joy. However, I find myself unable to see their faces or move a single muscle.
Struggling to find my voice, I manage to croak out a question, my parched throat protesting against the effort. "What happened to me?"
"You fell off a tree, My Lady," they explain.
Confusion washes over me. A tree? I have no recollection of such an event. Shouldn't I be dead, my throat slit? Why are they insisting I fell from a tree?
"Am I not dead?" I inquire, my voice trembling. Their surprised expressions meet my question, and one of the maids pleads with me in a voice laced with tears and concern, imploring me to stop such notions.
"My Lady, for God's sake, you merely hit your head. You did not die. Please, refrain from speaking such darkness again," the maid responds, her voice filled with both relief and sorrow. But how can this be? This voice... it belongs to my maid, Meg. But I distinctly remember Alice killing her. The memory remains vivid in my mind.
I gather the strength to ask, my voice filled with uncertainty, "Meg, is that truly you?" To my surprise, she replies without hesitation, "Of course, my lady."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to grapple with the enormity of this revelation. The dissonance between my memories and the reality unfolding before me weighed heavily on my heart. Yet, a glimmer of hope began to emerge—a possibility that my memories were distorted or that there was more to the story than I comprehended.
Confusion engulfed me as my vision slowly came into focus, revealing all the maids standing before me. I could see Meg, even though she had died because of me, and. Was this a dream? Or was it something else entirely? I was utterly bewildered.
"We need to call the doctor again," I exclaimed, hoping to find some answers. But right now, what I truly needed was to be alone with my thoughts.
"I want to be alone," I told Meg, my voice filled with a plea for solitude. However, true to her nature, she adamantly refused. "Absolutely not," she insisted, her loyalty unchanged. "Meg, please," I implored, hoping she would understand my need for solitude. Finally, she relented, and the others left with her.
As I tried to process the situation, a mix of relief and confusion washed over me. The figures who remained confirmed that I was indeed awake and alive, contradicting my previous understanding of events. They explained that I had fallen from a tree, hitting my head but miraculously surviving. Their voices carried a genuine concern and fear for my well-being.
As I sat alone, contemplating the fragments of my memories and the swirling mysteries that surrounded me, questions flooded my mind. Was this a second chance at life, or was it all just a vivid dream? The pain in my head served as a reminder that something had indeed happened, yet I found no physical evidence of the ordeal. No visible scars marred my throat, but doubts lingered in my mind.
I rose from my seat, compelled to seek answers in the reflection of a mirror. As I walked towards it, my heart raced with anticipation. And there, in the mirror, I saw my own reflection staring back at me. The familiarity of my appearance calmed some of my unease, but it also ignited a surge of memories.
I remembered how I had fallen from the tree, the events leading up to that moment, and the scar on my head. It all became clear. Today was the day Gabriel had confessed his love for Alice. The memory was etched in my mind, and it served as a marker for the present moment. If my recollections were accurate, Meg would inform me of Gabriel's impending arrival today, and everything would repeat itself. But this time, I knew the outcome would be different—I would not meet my demise.
"Startled by the sound of the door knock, I turned my attention towards it. Meg entered the room, her voice filled with urgency and excitement. "My lady, your fiancé wishes to meet with you tomorrow," she informed me.
A mixture of anticipation and apprehension coursed through me. Tomorrow was the day I had foreseen, the day Gabriel would confess his love for Alice. The timing was uncanny, as if the threads of fate were intertwining once again. But this time, armed with the knowledge of what lay ahead, I was determined to alter the course of events.
"Thank you, Meg. Please inform him that I will be available to meet him tomorrow," I replied, my voice filled with a newfound resolve. I needed to face Gabriel, not as a passive observer, but as an active participant in shaping my own destiny.
As Meg left the room, I pondered the possibilities that lay before me. This was a chance to rewrite the narrative, to change the outcome that had led me to the depths of despair.
As the night unfolded, I prepared myself mentally and emotionally for the encounter that awaited me. Tomorrow would be a day of reckoning, a test of my strength and resilience. And as I closed my eyes, I held onto the belief that this time, the path I walked would lead me to a different, brighter destination.
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İf you like this " my second book " Silent Possession (You Belong to Me)