Torment

WHEN THE LILACS BLOOM AGAIN

"You told me you love me." On top of the cliff Rosalie Ramos stood nearly on the edge. Few metres away she could clearly see the familiar silhouette of the man who mercilessly haunted her. The waves were still bellowing the rocks, strong current of the ocean still pounding the shoreline. The wind as always, was still blowing powerfully. Her hair fluttered like feathers. And the sun glowed above them, shining against her face with her tears falling down relentlessly on her cheeks. But this time she was holding a bunch of white lilacs.

Rosalie tried to move forward but her feet were stern and rigid. As if there were chains holding her legs she failed to move. "I did. I always did. And I still do." She sobbed. She sniffed. She kneeled. The sun was almost blinding her eyes and the sea salt was rather hurting her nose now but Rosalie kept her gaze towards the silhouette of the man. She crumbled into pieces shaking like shards of glass.

She heard gentle footsteps and there, the image of Homer appeared now kneeling in front of her. When Rosalie looked up she almost smiled. Her hands trembled around the lilacs she was holding. "Homer." She breathed. His face was so close to hers, his soft mistly lips almost touching her cheeks. His breathings were also warm against her skin. Gently, Rosalie closed her eyes and let the tears dropped to the flowers. "I'm sorry." She silently cried.

"What's finish is finish." Rosalie opened her eyes again and found his gazes not on her face anymore. He was staring on the sea behind her.

"What do you mean? Look at me." But he did not. "I'm sorry." She gulped and tried to reach for his face but only the tip of her fingers touched his cold cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Homer shook his head. And he waves pounded harsher, the wind blew stronger, tears continued to shower the white lilacs....

Rosalie gasped a suck of air. Her body jolted upright from leaning on the harpsichord and sitting on the stool in the library room where undreds of books were neatly arranged in the antique shelves. Where her harpsichord still stood sophisticatedly in front of her. There was also the 'Burial of Saint Lucy' painting still on the ground waiting to be hanged. On top of the closed instrument she noticed a filled glass and a bottle of The Odyssey 2000.

Alone and still shaken by her dreams, Rosalie immediately grabbed the glass of wine and drank it. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Her hand reached her aching head trying her best to remove the vivid image of Homer in her memory. There was no denying that her dreams really troubled her. Rosalie's unsettling feelings were too overwhelming. She drank more wine until her veins finally calmed down. Only then she realised that it was only eleven in the evening and Georgiana was playing the piano in the parlour.

Chopin's Nocturne in C sharp minor was accompanied by Carlisle playing the violin. At some point it made her better. The sound of the tranquil music satisfied her unsettled heart. Her eyes started to grow heavy. Perhaps it was the effect of the music and the tasteful wine Rosalie nearly finished a bottle of it.

She sighed and stared on the painting lying on the ground. It was another replica. Another gift from the Esposito family, the family who had given them the replica of 'The Entombment of Christ', the deer figurines and even the harpsichord in front of her. It was always during this time of the year. Always five weeks before Jane's birthday and a week before Santa Lucia's feast. They were a good family of course but she had only met them once in Museo Rigionale di Messina the time when she and Edgar had spent their holidays in Messina year 1999 for seven days. Esposito family really fascinated her but what made her wonder more was the fact that they only had a very brief conversation.