RIGHT

A/N: RIGHT is a story of love and heartbreak, of choosing and losing, of staying when it hurts and leaving when it feels impossible.

I promise you this: by the end of this book, you will be an emotional wreck.

So, keep your tissues close and try not to fall for Aiden because no matter how tempting he is, he was always meant for Emerald.

Happy Reading!

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“Celestine.”

A melodious yet mournful voice arose from behind her. She swirled, slowly, to face the person.

" Why did you come here, Erasmus?” Celestine asked. Not long ago, tears still lingered on her face, with the raging storm inside her.

The man took a step closer to her, as the myriad of words swirled in his head; nevertheless, he said the words that he knew, she desperately yearned to hear from him for a long time now.

“I had to come.” Erasmus’s eyes were blazing with the fire of ferocious passion. “Because I love you.”

Silence fell.

Anticipation increased.

The intensity of his words has crumbled her heart. It was too late now to confess. She cried too many times for this very day, and longed to hear these very words for too many nights, but now all she could feel was bitterness and anguish.

Then, without a sound, she ran away. Runaway with confession lingering in the air, breaking his heart, leaving him with the deepest despair and in the dark. And worse, breaking her own heart.

Love is really twisted, isn’t it?

Some fortunate ones fell in love, they immersed themselves in love, they fought for love, and in the end, they won love.

Some unfortunate ones fell in love, they immersed themselves in love, they fought for love, and in the end, they almost had it, almost. Because they give up when it was only mere odds away, and they are defeated in love.

Reluctantly, with a heavy sigh, I closed the book ′Dangerous illusion’.

I was running out of time; I should have stopped reading an hour ago and headed to the bathroom. Nonetheless, the thick desperation inside me compelled me to continue reading the book.

Of course, it was not because I was curious about the next happening as I had read the same book, a considerable number of times, that each line was engraved in my brain like data in the computer, but rather it was because the next part was the sequence I loved to read time and again.

Tick.

Tick.

The light of dawn seeped into my room; there was a pearly glow in the sky. The silence was so thick that one could easily hear the dropping of a pin. Sitting on the chair near the window, I could clearly gaze at the dancing trees, the chirping of birds, and the grass peeping through the concrete, giving the inspiration that, however difficult the situation is, there is always a way to overcome the problem. At that very moment, nothing could stop me from admiring nature, not even if the world was ending.

A new day has arrived.

I looked up at the azure sky, hoping that this new day would bring something good because hoping was the only option left for me. Suddenly, another wave of cold air drifted around me, giving rise to shivers on my body from the cold. My grip tightened on the blanket, which was wrapped around me and protecting me from the harsh breeze that was springing through the window.

Shifting slightly, my gaze fell on the antique clock that had hung on the wall for years.

It was 5:30 in the morning.

I always loved the morning; its calmness always soothes the agony inside me.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Why was the time running so rapidly today? Why wasn’t it in this much of a rush when I needed it desperately to fade? Today, when I wanted it to freeze, it was running as fast as a cheetah.

I sighed again.

Today, many things are going to change forever. Just as I step out of this house, I will be all alone.

Independent.

Realization struck me hard, and harder each time as the time approached nearer.

I was terrified.

Never in my twenty years of existence on the earth have I thought that I would be alone, independent. I could finally be free from the cage that held me prisoner year to year; all I knew was that no one could hold me back now.

I rose from my seat and began to organize my room and make my bed. These four walls of my bedroom barely contain anything, a small bed which always been heaven for me, a study desk with a laptop on it, and last but not least, a bookshelf made by my father with great devotion and love when I was in eighth grade.

Tick.

Tick.

I knew I had to instantly leave for a bath, otherwise I would be delayed in catching a bus that would lead me to my destination.

New York University.

Yes, my dream University, the dream which I had forgotten about for a while, but the very day has finally arrived to achieve my goal. Perhaps I was a little late to reach my dream, but at least I reaped a chance to live my dream. I have always been a huge believer in patience and hard work, and today it has finally paid off.

Yet, I was sad.

Why? Only if it could be a different circumstance where I would have my parents wave me goodbye like it normally happens in families around the world, then I would be the most content person ever to walk on this earth, but life is never fair; they would not be a part of this tradition.

Concluding, not a single additional moment I wanted to dwell in misery, I left the comfort of my room and went to the bathroom. Out of the very few things that I owned that I would long for in university, showering in my own space had made it to the top.

The pouring of hot water on my body loosened all the muscles in my body; it was the most satisfying feeling in the world. After a moment under the shower, traitor tears slipped from my closed eyes and then made their way to my cheeks.

I shook my head.

No more crying.This simple line was on continuous repeat in my brain for days, in the hope that when the time arrives, I would be competent to stay tough.

But how mistaken I was! Because no amount of preparation would ever save me from breaking when I had to bid goodbye to my old life and take a new road.

Subsequently, spending a decent amount in the shower, heedlessly, my leg carried me to the fogged mirror. Only the part I wiped with my hand was where I could see the reflection of my blue eyes, which, often, people say reminds them of the beautiful sky, so innocent and shockingly crystalline. I used to believe it too, but not anymore; all I could glimpse were void pools that could never be filled again. The sparks that once shone in my eyes deliberately vanished with time, leaving behind a stormy, unsettling rage.

Blinking twice, I recovered from my reverie and headed to my room. Flinging on a pair of black leggings and a sweatshirt, a truly promising innovation of mankind for delivering the luxury of comfort, I sauntered into the center of the room.

Tick.

Tick.

My eyes wandered around all four corners for one last time to engulf the memories and sensations of my childhood room.

You can do it.

I breathed deeply.

Lifting my suitcase and calculatingly shutting the door of my room behind me, I descended downstairs. Myriads of emotions were building in my heart, and each one of them was strangling me to the point where I couldn’t breathe. Focusing on the brighter future, I stopped the fears and sadness from pulling me down.

When I reached the living room, I encountered more deafening silence and a disaster that certainly occurred not too long ago.

The furniture was out of place, as if someone was trying to search for something, and my heart thumped hard inside my chest. I inhaled sharply, clutching the handle of my suitcase. Marching to the heart of my beloved house, and then to the kitchen, all the while I was praying to all the superior power in the universe that, for once, let me catch a glimpse of her old self, just one last time before leaving for good.

As I entered the kitchen, the slight in my front eyes broke my heart into a thousand pieces. All I had asked was one thing, and even that I wasn’t granted.

My mother, my birth giver, who carried me in her stomach for nine months, to whom I love way too much, was slumped on the chair. Her back pressed against the wood frame of the chair, as her eyes effortlessly closed.

She appeared so vulnerable.

Her hair was unruly, and the charm of her face was deadened. I knew she was conscious from the way her hand went back and forth at her side.

“Mom,” I called out.

Instantly, her gaze widened, and her caramel eyes met mine, cold and unwelcoming.

“You have hidden it, didn’t you?” she questioned sharply.

Her accusation was fair. Indeed, I had hidden it.

“Yes,” I answered without any hesitation because I knew there was no point in fabricating, since I had executed a very similar action on a previous occasion.

Her eyes were resuscitated with rage upon hearing my answer, and her back straightened.

“What did I say the previous time when you did the same outrageous mistake?” She challenged, sluggishly getting upon her both legs. She stumbled a little but caught herself before falling.

“There will be the consequence,” I answered, chomping my inner cheek, struggling not to whimper.

“So then, there will be the consequence,” her tone was so sharp it could skillfully cut the diamond. In a blink, I watched the alcohol bottle shatter into a million pieces in front of me, which was in her left hand, which I had hidden from her, and it was spread on the surface, leaving a trace of nasty liquid, which could mean only one possibility.

She has found it, and now she is drunk.

I let out a shriek. It caught me off guard. Sweat started to cover my forehead in anticipation of her next move.

Yes, my mother was an alcoholic and a drug addict.

But nothing can stop me from loving her. The only justification for her action was that she was under the influence of alcohol. She could be the sweetest person if she weren’t intoxicated, which, sadly, was a rare phenomenon, as most of her hours were spent remaining intoxicated.

She was not a foul person; alcohol made her.

This was the mantra I chanted each time things like this happened.

“Mom, I am leaving.” Ignoring her threat, I blurted out without any second thought, even knowing well that my words would be adding fuel to the fire.

Anxiety sealed my throat as I heard her face go vacant.

She blinked.

" What?” Word squeezed out through her clenched teeth.

" I am leaving for New York University.” I reiterated deliberately, even while knowing she had heard me clearly before.

" Emerald, you know what? I always thought you were naive, but you proved me wrong because you are a fool,” she slurred. Her words promptly strike right at my heart. A lump in my throat was making it impossible for me to utter a single syllable.

" Say what you want to say, but I am making my own decisions; I am an adult.” Inhaling a deep breath, I tried to defend myself.

" Right, an adult who is dependent on me. Mentally as well as financially.”

Her words were substantial. I have never been away from the house on my own for more than seven hours. When I turned eighteen, I was admitted to a community college that was way too close to the house. I abandoned my dreams just so I could stay with my mother because she was all I had.

Everything was bearable, even if I had to carry the baggage of my mother’s drunken habit. I was not content, but at least I was surviving, until that fateful day when breathing in the same space with her became difficult and unmanageable.

Recollecting the remembrances of that day still sends a shiver down my spine. That day was the last straw; my patience was gone. Ultimately, I relinquished in the battle, and I had to make some difficult choices. Defeat made me pay the hefty price, that is, to reluctantly leave my mother here alone. But I have to go, I can’t stay here.

“True, but I can’t stay here, and you know the reason,” I whispered, but she certainly heard due to guilt replacing the coldness that was seen earlier.

Her eyes softened.

" You can’t abandon me,” she sharply inhaled. “I need you, Emerald.”

This was my mother; she could be as cold as the Arctic and deliver the warmth of the hearth.

“If you don’t want me to leave you, then you know my conditions.” Coldness occurred in my voice, camouflaging the despair that was swirling in my heart.

Instantly, her face hardened, and she glared at me.

" If you don’t stay here, I won’t pay any expenses for your college,” she challenged, looking straight into my eyes.

" You don’t have to, Dad has left me a college fund.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, color washed out of her face.

“I-It’s not there...”

It was a rare sight to see my mother stammer; it only happens when she does something absurd and can’t be undone.

Dread settled inside me.

“What are you insinuating? I am certain that Dad had left funds for my college.” I enunciated, in tranquility.

She swallowed, and a timid look crossed her face.

" I spent.”

“Spent on what?” Fury took over me, but from inside, I was hurt. “Alcohol? Drugs?”

Her silence was the answer to my rhetorical question.

I didn’t shout, didn’t accuse, I didn’t even utter a single word because what’s the purpose of doing all these things?

Until the afternoon, she won’t even remember that she had spilled out the truth about my college fund. And either way, if I was furious or hurt, silence had always been my weapon to defend myself; that’s why, instead of lashing out, I took out a letter that I wrote all night for my mother and marched to the table without sparing a single glance at her and stationed it on the table underneath a flower pot. I knew her gaze was following my every move, as turmoil sprang into her.

I whirled around.

" Goodbye, I am leaving.” No emotion slipped from my voice.

“No, you can’t!” she mumbled in her mild, intoxicated state.

You can’t.

I was infuriated upon hearing the same phrase often. You can’t do this, you can’t do that,you can never be independent. My entire life, I had heard the same words again and again; she never let me make decisions or make choices, it’s always ‘I can’t do anything.’ But not this time.

“You want me to stay? I will stay.” I gazed straight into her eyes and saw a smirk take over her lips as she saw my courage crumbling down, but so mistaken, she was, ” You know my conditions, you have to promise that not a drop of alcohol should be seen in this house, quit the alcohol this time for good. ”

This was the only condition that I had been reciting for days now, but every time, all I received was a negative acknowledgment.

She stared at the shattered pieces of the bottle.

" Mom, just one promise, and I will stay, I promise,” I said in thick desperation.

It was true, I will stay. I wanted to stay here. I never wanted to leave her alone, even if I had to abandon my dreams, and I was willing to leave everything behind, again and again, even being just one step away from reaching the destination, if she promised me that she wouldn’t touch alcohol ever again.

Her single word can soar my heart or break it into countless pieces.

After a pause, she closed her eyes and sighed.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No! ” She reiterated, but this time her voice took a high octave that echoed throughout the room. I had known her answer, yet I hoped some miracle could transform the actuality, but just like a pig can’t fly, my mother can never change.

In the end, my heart was broken.

With a trembling hand, I clutched the handle of the suitcase and looked softly at her. “I love you, Mom. Forgive me, you were right, I can’t. I can’t stay here.”

With that, I fled out of the house with a tear running down my face, to commence a new journey, desiring that everything would be alright.

What I didn’t know was that the worst was yet to come.