COMPLETED | ❝ Some journeys take us far from home. Some adventures lead us to our destiny. ❞
━ in which a peculiar girl with gifted abilities and natural wit named ophelia wellington finds herself burning the entire world with a single spitefu...
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A HUSBAND WHO DARES keep something major from his wife is a husband worthy of getting proper discipline. There are certain things that could possibly aid someone in conducting such proposal, especially if the counterpart was far away from the other. Maybe through sending that person a flock of trained birds to peck on his empty head, or perhaps send a letter filled with warnings and precautions that if they were to defy my wishes then they'll be damned for the rest of eternity.
The list could go on and on until more could bridge forth, but those weren't the obvious pick for someone like me. Those were the usual, boring, and uncreative way of teaching someone their lesson. Because if one were to be someone like I, a person who received a message from his younger sister that her idiotic brother was attempting to join the army without my knowledge and his proper thought, then maybe you'd be just as alarmed as I am.
“We have arrived, madame.” A voice called out as our vehicle came to a soft halt, the sound of the engine dying down reaching my ears.
My eyes scanned the scene outside the window, seeing arrays of standard houses lining up the sides of the streets. The ambiance was filled with warmth as sunlight smoothly poured down the trees that were hued with a darker shade of leaves. My senses unconsciously jumped at the familiar feeling of tugging, two strings dancing in the air, welcoming my entirety like a piece of puzzle connecting together.
Without another word, my hands reached for the door and exited my ride. The car then drove down the road as I took the last of my belongings, leaving after my refusal of his help to carry the luggage. I was now alone walking in front of a medium-sized structure, catching a lazily thrown bicycle leaning on one of the walls. It was positioned in a messy way, the shrub near it looking as if someone stepped on it not too long ago.
“Should I knock?” Escaped from my lips as I neared the door, but shrugged my shoulders as I glanced down at the doorknob. Since when have I ever learned to knock? The only time I did it was when I entered my grandfather's room hours ago to say goodbye. Much to his great dismay however, he couldn't come with me, courtesy of my persistence of coming alone. Which took a lot of persuading, and maybe some ability using on my part, but he somehow realized that and now prohibited me from visiting grandmother on the holidays. Which is truly unacceptable!
Entering the household with a loud slam to the door, I then walked straight to where my feelings led me to. I passed through a short hallway, then reached a space to where the living room was located. The walls were wooden shelves stacked with books and other things, a window by the right side with its drapes drawn open. A man was facing the direction of where I was, a newspaper blocking his face, not even sparing a single glance to who the person may be. The front page of the paper made me give a short tut, seeing yet another image of that dramatic final pose from yesterday's ballet show. Below said picture were obnoxiously large letters that were extra bold, something about earning the biggest audience yet.
