The Last Wish

10.Stay Expiration: Confirmed

The boy tapped her on the shoulder dragging her back to her shattered reality. She looked at the boy, below his tattered waves of black strands hid warm chocolate brown eyes staring at her with a renewed interest. She realised visitors were quite infrequent to this neighbourhood, resulting the boy double his inquisitivity.

"What's your sweet name, dearie?"

The boy didn't reply, unfaltering he stared at her with the curious eyes of a baby penguin. Even at death's call, she hadn't quit resembling humanoid objects to birds.

"George! It's time for bed" a voice behind called.

A young woman, still in her office attire, stood at the porch gesturing George, the little boy she presumed, to hurry inside. He nodded in her direction, took a minute to kiss goodbye to an amused looking Belle and raced back to his mother.

George, a sweet name for a sweet boy, she thought a smile appearing on her face.

His house was a good ten houses away from the bench, so she could only see the mere silhouette of two figures in the dimly lit street, one short and the other lean and tall which she suspected would be his mother.

The lady bent down to speak to him and after a short exchange of words, the woman waved at Belle before going inside with little George on her trail, and she waved back.

The door closed leaving her alone in the dark street again.

She buried her face in her hands, and stayed put for as long as she could remember.

Behind the closed curtains of her eyes, images played like in a film roll. Pictures of her childhood, of her best friends, of Ian and Ivory snuggling close to her at night when the skies frightened them with loud rumbles of thunder or when the three siblings built castles on the beach where Ian acted the knight in shining armor saving the poor princess Ivory held captive by a hideous monster, which sadly happened to be Belle.

She thought of her parents. Holding her, hugging her, caressing her while she cried on her mother's shoulder when her little birdie had died, or scolding her for bringing an unvaccinated street dog home, and of her parents kissing her goodbye a few months ago, blessing her for a better future in New York. But she hadn't realised her end would have been sealed too soon.

Promise me, Belle. She had failed her mother.

Her mother had asked a simple request that she failed to accomplish. It was time to go back to Him. A sore loser had Belle turned into.

Tears threatened to fall, she needn't worry of people pitying or looking at her in contempt today. In this empty street which the name she wasn't aware of, she could freely let the viscous streaks of hopelessness and fear inside her go. But she didn't.

Today, when she actually died, her face would not be tear stained nor wretched with despair but a soul hidden from the gossips of people.

Unfortunately, she realised the streets being empty also resulted in a very few amount of vehicles driving past her. The only resolution she had come upon was to...wait. Wait for the perfect moment.

The wait took longer than she thought but she consoled herself saying 'the moment should be perfect'.

In the distance, a bright light coloured her vision. A vehicle, she thought delightedly. Just like little George had raced to his mother, Belle ran to the middle of the road as if to embrace death's wings.

Her heartbeats increased, perspiration moistening her forehead as she closed her eyes, waiting for the vehicle to hit her.

Her senses activated and so did her erratic breathing, the vehicle neared her. The lights brightening made her closed black vision turn blood-red in colour.