A Lie I Did Not Want to Believe, p.1

Location: London, somewhere in the countryside

I still remember the day everything happened. The day I lost everything. The love of my life, who I was, everything that I ever wanted. I lost myself. It was a very hard period of my life. Something I would never want to feel again. The emptiness in me the dread I was feeling when I was thinking about her.

I still remember the day everything started. We were on a carriage going to my wife’s parents. They were living somewhere outside of London in a big manor. The route there was something else. You couldn’t say it was beautiful. All you could say is that it was creepy. We started from London and then we took a weird road out of it and started going towards the countryside. My wife was sitting next to me. Her name was Catherine. She had a slim silhouette and her hair was red. She had her legs crossed and she was reading her book. A book about a couple I think it was. She had read this book hundreds of times. She was beautiful. What I love about her is moments like these. She is doing something, and she focuses on it and I just look at her. The way she was reading the book with her long red hair touching the side of her face, her hands in the book and their movement as she was changing the pages. Her slim face and all the perfect and well-placed curves. A sight out of a picture.

She noticed I was staring at her again and turned with a smiley face towards me.

“Are you staring at me again?” and she giggled a bit.

“You know I can’t help it… You are stunning” I then answered.

“Oh, shut up, you charmer” she replied, as she laughed hitting me with the book.

I then grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards me. I lied my body to the right, and we were hugging each other looking out of the window at the forest. I can still remember the smell of her hair. The warmth of her body and her touch as I was hugging her. I wish that moment to last forever.

We both had not noticed how the time passed. So, we were finally there. Outside of her parent’s manor.

When we arrived, the night had caught up on us. It was chilly and I had just left her embrace. The manor was not something you would expect, the feeling of it. It felt wrong. I rubbed it off, as I was over-observing. The forest engulfed the entire place. The trees were thin and naked. They were as tall as the manor and they were hiding the structure. You would not know that place was there if you didn’t know someone that was living in the area, or if you hadn’t seen the road before.

The manor was old, rusty. The base of it was made from a type of stone and then the rest of the building was from wood. Dark wood that was making these x shapes and was going along the roof. The roof was split into three parts. One in the middle and the two others on the side. It was a nice house.

We were greeted by her father. He was dressed casually. A tall but thin man. He seemed stiff. You immediately knew that he wasn’t someone you could fool or win an argument in a conversation. He smiled at us and went to hug his daughter immediately. She asked him if everything was alright, because he seemed troubled.

“Ah you know me” he said, “I want everything to be in order”.

He then looked at me.

“Welcome son, come, let’s go inside”. He tipped the driver and we were on our way inside.

We entered through this massive wooden door. It seemed like a castle’s one. It was sturdy and had metal coating at some parts of it. We were led to the main lounge that was on the left. It had a fireplace matching the houses feeling and style. I sat on the chair that was next to the fireplace. My wife sat on the sofa and her father next to her.

See, they were a bit old fashioned, so I wasn’t allowed to be that flirty and clingy with her. They had even prepared deferent rooms for me and her. The rest of the night went by casually. We had dinner and all that and we retired to our rooms.

I was sitting down at the bed drawing her and I wondered at that moment where was her mother. It was late and I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go down to the lounge draw and sit down by the fireplace. Ease my spirit I thought.

There was in a little table some scotch and a few glasses. The table wasn’t there when we had come. There was also a big painting above the fireplace of an old military general. My guess was that it was someone that was important to the family. It was there for decoration. I wasn’t really interested in exploring the house. I didn’t want them to say that I was making noise, and I just sat down and started drawing.

I was drawing and thinking about her. My thoughts were like a movie passing through my eyes. I was close to finish it. Then her mother surprised me. She leaned next to my chair and said that it is beautiful. I was startled and I turned over. She was very alike to her daughter. She was a bit curvier, not as old as you would expect her to be. She also had red hair, though hers were a bit less colourful. I guess they suited her age.

She sat at the couch in front of me and she, as her daughter, crossed her legs and had her hands crossed on top of them leaned forward. I chuckled a bit then and I said:

“Sorry, you just sat exactly like her”.

She chuckled a bit as well and she started talking with me. Unlike her husband she was welcoming and friendly. The complete opposite you can say.

Our conversation started about my drawing. I told her that It was my hobby. She asked why not write something like a novel or a story. What drew me to drawing. I replied that I always imagined writers as people that put their hearts into their creation and that what they are doing is painful in a way. Because they are the ones that know the story, they are there for their characters every step of the way and that I did not know why but it always gave me a sad feeling.

Drawing though is simple. You just picture a loved one or a drawing and you draw on the paper the scenery you want. The difference is that you as the painter know the meaning behind your drawing or why you drew it. It adds a bit of mystery I said.

She chuckled again and said that it was the first time someone had given a beautiful meaning like that to drawing. She then continued saying that she was a painter as well. The big painting that was above the fireplace was hers. I asked if she could tell me who that man was.

“Can you guess?” she said.

Like a game we were playing trying to figure each other out. She was a very fun person to be around. Always knew how to move the conversation and make me interested. She was exactly like her. I took my guess that it was someone from their family tree and I was right.

“I don’t always paint that boring paintings. Follow me”.

We then went to a room foul of paintings. They were hers and each one of them were magnificent. Landscapes and painting words themselves can’t describe. After a while I turned to her and said nice meeting you. It is probably too late for me to be walking around so I am going to go and take some sleep.

I was tired so I went and lied down to my bed. Relaxed thinking what a great day it was.

I always remember that day. The warmth of it. I didn’t know anything back then and I was simply her husband. It is one of the few memories I have that keeps me going. I think of it and say to myself. Family is an amazing thing.

My great time there didn’t last long. I woke up in the middle of the night hearing loud noises and gunshots. I woke up stressed not knowing what was going on. My mind immediately went to her. Was she safe? Was her family safe?

I then looked at the time and saw that it was a few hours back. I thought that the clock wasn’t going right but I didn’t pay any attention to it. I immediately rushed downstairs and saw three men with masks on their faces holding them down and dragging them outside.

I lunged at them but there wasn’t anything I could have done. They didn’t steal anything or break. They tied me as well and they took all of us outside.

What happened after that will always be burned in my memories. They had taken rope and made nooses. They tied them at the trees and hang them. I was forced to watch they said to me that I wasn’t in their hit list. And that I was safe.

I watched her father her mother whom I had talked with and her losing their lives out of their bodies. The excruciating pain they felt. They were gasping for air their faces and bodies turned to purple and then grey.

It was done. They were dead in front of my eyes. They didn’t need me anymore, so they rendered me unconscious. Something broke inside me that day.

I then woke up the next day at the same spot in the morning. The house was burned to the ground and they were still there hanged from the tree. I kneeled and cried. I screamed in pain. I couldn’t breathe and my heart was burning. It was painful. This was the day I died. The man I was some days ago, was gone.

Author: Jimmy Novak