Chapter One
Somewhere out there a bolt of lightning struck making Nicholas shiver. He pulled the warm duvet close to his nose. His dark blue eyes gleamed in the darkness of his bedroom. The air conditioner was turned off, windows were closed but still, a shiver ran down his spine. Sleep was not going to accompany him tonight as it seemed.
With a shaky deep breath, his wobbly fingers curled around the duvet and pushed it away from his body. His hands groped the bedside table to find his glasses. He touched the cold rim of his glasses and picked it up to place them on the bridge of his nose.
The darkness seemed a bit bearable now. If only he could fetch his shawl. He got down of the bed as he got a hold of his cane. It was placed just beside his bed.
Nicholas walked toward the blue couch adjacent to his white bed where he had put his favorite red shawl in a neat fold. He wrapped the shawl around his body and turned around when his eyes landed on that shiny gold medal on the desk. The dark mahogany desk was an amazing contrast with the golden statue that sat atop it. His chest swelled with pride as he walked toward to statue.
His eyes sparkled as he touched the outline of the cold medal. It was the reminder that he was indeed the best of best in the literature world. He was invincible and no one could reach him. He brought the medal close to his chest and sighed. The gold medal of the noble prize was finally his.
Nicholas took a long moment to look at it before he put it inside the drawer. His eyes found the notebook that he used for his notes and drafting. He pulled the chair of his desk and sat down before his notebook. He took the golden pen the president of China had gifted him last year. He opened the notebook and skipped the pages filled with words. He opened a fresh new page.
A soft smile graced his lips. He pressed the tip of his pen on the paper and sighed. There was a lingering feeling of excitement lying hidden somewhere in his mind. It tingled his senses. He always felt overwhelmed whenever he wrote one of his masterpieces. Tonight was no different. But, still why it felt like this was the last time tonight.
Lighting struck out there again and he got his answer. If this was the last time then so be it. He would write the best of his masterpiece tonight. But what would he write? What was there that could the best of his creation? His wrinkly forehead creased as he frowned.
He searched for the answer in the darkness. No darkness couldn't be his answer. He needed light. So, Nicholas turned on the desk lamp and again looked at the empty page. The worn-out notebook had been his trusted companion for a long time. It was with him in his best and worst moments.
"What do you want me to tell, my dear?" He asked his notebook.
The notebook was silent as always. Nicholas sighed and closed his eyes, searching his mind for some answer.
It was blank in his mind for a moment until a pair of beautiful emerald looked at him through her thick, dark lashes. Nicholas fluttered open his blue eyes. There was a new kind of shine in his eyes. He found the story for his masterpiece. He smiled and leaned forward to start writing. One the top of the page he wrote the title for his story. And, what would be more fitting than his...
Bleeding Rose.
