Vulnerary

w o u n d s

The Williams Cottage
-8:56-

Blissful moments are hard to come by now, or maybe they do but I just fail to grasp them. 

That's how life is sometimes. Sometimes it deprives you of the chance altogether, sometimes it gives you one out of pity but you're just so disappointed already that the opportunity slips by unbeknownst to you. Life is full of disappointments-or maybe I've just made it out to be. Living in the past has become a rather healthy habit of mine. However constantly I try to live up to the present, the harshness of now always pushes me back to the cherishing moments of then. Today has become a bit of a struggle and when the future seems to be filled with so much sorrow, the only save option left for me to escape into is the past- for it held the happiness that today does not. 

And seems it never will either.

Wendy Williams thoughts raced on and on as she sat by the fireplace and gazed outside her tinted windows onto the snowy bliss of December with a book in her lap and her reading glasses perched on the tip of her slightly crooked nose that had been broken one too many times. The flames were licking away at the wood mercilessly; her entire being engulfed in the warmth-protected from the harsh weather that howled outside.

Days go by but the constant hits of nostalgia never fail to strike me hard.

Thoughts aren't thoughts anymore, they've fabricated themselves into unspoken memories. Days seem like years; seconds seem like hours. Time slips by my fingers as if it were grains of sand. But the moments I relish daydreaming in seem to slow down inside my head- not caring how the world continuous on outside my dreamland. Bits and pieces of the past randomly pop in my head, dragging me down the memory lane faster than a Formula 1 on the race track. Like a movie, history plays in front of my eyes- paving its way write in between the present and the future.

 The desire to forget runs strongly through my veins, but alas: pain isn't always as easily forgotten as happiness is.

At her ripe old age of seventy-three, Wendy looked remarkably old- crediting the rapid aging to a life of stress and adventure; pleasure with the pain. She had never been one of those that had it easy, and she never did make it easy for anyone either. She was a woman of iron will; her resolve putting concrete to shame and her stubbornness melting the harshest of colds. It was easy to say that neither did she take bullshit from anyone nor did she feed it to anyone. She was as good as they came.

Wendy Williams was no ordinary woman, you see. She had served in the military for nearly half a century and was notoriously known for being feared; both among her friends and her enemies. She had served as a spy, so she was on her toes half of her life. But she loved it, or rather she loved the thrill of it. She had lived a life with a discipline and rigidness that only a few were known of breaking. 

And one of them was a man she had now come to hate far more than she had once loved.

Only after a bullet pierced her heart-and that too laced with betrayal-was Wendy discharged from the military. She was the best of the best, and the decision was hard to make but made nonetheless. Of course, she resisted the leave, but her seniors were adamant of her health and thus, a normal life it was meant to be. She eventually found another short-lasting flame with whom she had her one-and-only- son Nicholas Alexander Williams, who filled in her shoes and became as close as he could to the next Wendy Williams.

Unfortunately, not all is merry in war, and Nicholas left a little too soon; getting caught by the enemies and being tortured to death; leaving a family of three and a proud yet hollow mother behind.

Wendy was never the same after that loss, becoming ever so withdrawn than she already was, and isolating her self from the frenzied world outside. And even though she gradually focused on training her grandchildren next to become better spies, it seemed she never actually fully recovered. Even the hardest walls become bruised with enough blows.