To my Dearest Friend

Giving up

Yves montague

I have so many questions for myself, ao many doubts. I run into the cold relentless storm. Trying so hard to convince myself I am not as utterly mad as I seem while running from my doubts. I am trying to convince myself I am in love, I am trying to convince myself I forgot half my childhood, I am trying to convince myself I am not in utter panic right now bedaune of the similarity between somebody I hate and have hated since the age of eigthteen and to someone I wish to love, I want to love. I try to take a breath while running through the streets but it's like my guilt is sitting on my chest.

That strange behaviour of insisting, that poisonous wanting. I hate it so much. I am trying to convince yourself it is normal. It is not normal, and I know that all too well. There are so many thoughts raving through my mind as I run through the streets, I can barely see though the snow and my tears. I see nothing but blurry faces of fear. I bump into everything I have the chance of bumping into, all these scary, mad, irritated faces torn from their place in a setting of disregard look at me with disdain. Some clearly wondering why I am in a frenzy come asking themsleves how much I must've drunk. Which is fair question, I feel like I am in a dream, a nightmare, desperately trying to escape it's clutches before

I am truly running from myself, the frightening shadow of myself I have created. The one who will always be fine, but I am not and it seems he is not either, my only defense has been broken down. I lost the war. My kingdom is in flames and my heart is in the water. i want to forget please forget. I feel the tears as if they are being frozen in place, I am Rushing through the streets trying to understand the thundering storm of emotions. All of us are so utterly lost and we're convinced we can be found, but we are fools, we are children, we are evil innocents. We will be found that is what we will always tell outselves but nothing is further the truth! And it angers me, with every step we take in each direction we get further from being found. So I will run in an effort to lose myself, to lose the memoty of her, to lose cyril, to lose Katherine, to lose you, to lose me.

I fall on my knees in the grass of the park, the snow is culmanating in my eye lashes. freezing the tears I wish to cry. The tears I wish to have. My heart seems to give up on trying to warm me in a climate that is so freezing, and honestly can you blame it. I am giving up too, why wouldn't it be allowed to do the same. I curse her, I don't curse Katherina, I would never curse dear Katherina. I curse Emma Craven, I curse her endless promises, I curse the way nobody saw my hatred for her, I curse the world, I curse my endless hope, I curse my love but most of all I curse my foolish soul, my beautiful tender soul. The soul who carries all this heart in him....

Let it go. Let go! LET GO!

I am breathing heavily in the cups I've made with cold hands, don't let go, stay sane, don't become your father. Don't become your father. Stay sane Yves. All those stupid tears. I scream, Releasing so much anger, so much pain, so much frustation. I can hardly breathe I see some people looking at me but I don't mind it while, my lungs are exhausted from the crying as is my heart. I look up at the angry stormy clouds and feel my mouth curls up, forming a numb arrogant smile on my face.

I stand up and chuckle, God has succeeded, society has finally succeded. I lost hope.

Next thing you know is the fact I don't have long hair anymore.I turn around and someone bumps into to me, I begin to panic by the feeling of the strangers hands on my shoulders, I can't see the face clearly as the snow and tears are still obscuring half of my vision so I am utterly confused as he grabs my hands and tries to calm me down. 'Take a deep breath' he says, I try to, I really do. My vision clears a bit but my lungs protest. It's akiva, I sigh. Of course, I should've known. 'Look at you. Yves, you'll catch a col What happened?' He asks he sounds so concerned. I shake my head and I really would like to explain but that only results in crying. 'It's alright.' He says in a sweet tone. A fatherly one perhaps? But how would I know?

'Yves, We are going back to England. You are not doing well. We need to go back to your home, we need to get you somewhere you feel safe. You're also be welcome to stay with me if you don't want to go back to your family but we are going to England that's for sure.' He says, I close my eyes. I understand why Akiva is saying this I really do. but still all I want to do is lay down turn off my mind and never turn it on again. Perhaps I want to die. Do I?

Eloise Montague

A letter arrives at out house. I open it, it is not common for me to receive letters. I look out of the window, Emma is sitting in the garden she is talking to Eleanor, she seems to have taken a liking in her. She has always been indifferent to Frances, she was always awfully focused on little Yves. I open the letter

My sincere greetings madam Montague,

I am quite sure you are not very aware of who I an, My name is Akiva Malachi Meier and I am the friend who is currently in Vienna with your son. I am sorry to bring you this news but I am certain you have noticed that Yves is not doing very well, I can detail that further when we meet face to face Madam but we are coming back a little sooner than anticipated, for the sake of his health and he needs security in my opinion. (should I mention that I am a licensenced doctor?) I would love it if you were able to welcome him back in England. He'd be happy to see you on king's cross. He needs a bit of motherly love. I'll be sure to attach the information about our train and I hope to see you on the platform. I will already thank you beforehand.

Regards,

Akiva Meier.

Happy birthday _Ash_es I am so grateful of all your support of our dear yvie and cyril!