#twwof

you ever just have feelings for your first f/o again… 🫶🏾 resurrecting your selfship from 11 years ago, many such cases….

Donald’s POV

As I stomped into my room. It was decorated in the black darkness of the night. But a single glow from her candle sat upon her desk. 

‘How could they!’ I scream in my thoughts. ‘How could they sell me off to an old and dying man as my future master? Why not a youthful one like Daisy who already stole my heart but now he would be disappointed in our never happy ending.’ I thought more. 

This saddens me to see him so heartbroken. Alone. With nothing warming his soon-to-be cold heart.

My sadness turned to anger on the return reminder of my betrothal. 

My brows glued downward and my eyes glared at the wall, where no one stands. But I pictured my twin and my aunt standing there. 

“I wish I could die on command rather than marry someone I don't love,” I spoke quietly to myself. 

After my dear parents, who I wish more to save from this nightmare, died in a shipwreck traveling to another country. Me and My brother, Della was sent off to or taken in by our very wealthy aunt. Though living with her was hell to bear. Every week we were tortured to do “activities” from the public’s eye. 

In terms of we, I meant me. I already know she likes my brother more than me. Love him as her child but see and treat me as if I was just an enemy or even a slave. My twin never understands but defends her with a blind eye. This hurts me more. 

I’m tired of this life. I just wanted to go back to before.

As I stand there in silence, footsteps follow…loudly. I didn’t move but continued to stare at the wall now desolate. Words were muffled to my ears as they spoke. 

Then, I forcefully turned to face my aunt scrooge, who was furious at me. I was surprised but not frightened. I have seen this a million times before.

The words became clearer again. “Look at me when you are being spoken to,” her aunt said to her. Her voice was angry and growling at me at the early outburst from before. I stared at her but this time showing my true feelings.

DISGUSTED

“Why would you embarrass me in front of your future betrothal?”, she asked, harshly.

I was silent. 

She continues, “this will be your future and your feelings about being so damn upset wouldn't bother this man or anyone you come across. now pretend this doesn't bother you.”

My lips were still glued. 

“Why can't you be so much like your brother? He will soon be married as well but he isn't crying and stomping around like an arrogant child. Why can't you just sit there and be modest? keep quiet about your feelings like any other wom-,” she kept going but I can’t hold it anymore. I am tired of being treated worse and being reminded that I am not like my brother. 

“My brother isn’t marrying the old man, my brother can choose and pick whoever he wants. You both know my heart was stolen by another and you refuse to accept that. Then you speak about this modesty as if you're not modest yourself.” I pointed out the reality to them. Her brother looked away and walked away from the doorway. 

“I am more modest than you. And you know it,” she spoke up. “Did you forget that you took us on DEADLY trips! That’s not modest,” I said. She opened her mouth to respond but I continued. “And you mention my outburst about my future, let’s talk about the past or your future. When we arrived and had news about our parents, you blamed us for our parents’-” 

“You will not bring them up in this argument!” she yelled. Her aunt Scrooge was pale at the mention of them. It seems the mention of them gave her flashbacks to the moment. I hope she regrets saying that. She looked down.

“Why not? It is a reminder of your past or our future to the chapter,” I go on. Her eyes widened but changed to cover up the mask of anger. Scrooge looked up at me.

“We are not talking about your parents’ death but your marriage to someone else,” she grumbled.

“THE MARRIAGE that my parents wouldn’t approve of,” 

“They would have accepted this more than you would,” 

“No! They wouldn’t! Father would have a screaming match with you on this,” 

“I don’t care what your father would agree,”

“So you’re disrespecting the feelings of the dead and I over what?!” 

She stopped and turned away from me. I had my eyes glued on her every movement.

“We will talk about this tomorrow,” she said.

“No! We will discuss this today and now. You know what is happening tomorrow.” I yelled. I came closer to her.

“Later!” She looked at me and then away. 

“No!” I yelled again.

“Yes! You will be married and that’s final.” she finally looked at me with rage. She’s speaking to me as a parent and demanding control. I was mad. 

“I rather die than be married,” I said, glaring at her. 

Surprise but retreat the calmness that was underneath all of her rage she had. 

“And sometimes I wish I had sent you off to live with your grandfather and then we would both have a happier life,” she said so calmly. 

The truth. Even though I know, it still hurts to hear it. To hurt without the rage and barking from her feels like a knife slicing through my heart. 

My eyes burn. I held back the tears. 

“Fine,” I said, softly and calmly. It makes it seem like she won the battle. Scrooge turned around, before walking off. I left my room where her brother is no longer there but somewhere else. “But I am not getting married,” I said, increasing the space between us. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

The realization clicked on what I meant. And came rushing to me. But I was quicker. I can hear her scream for my brother. 

I opened the backdoor and left. I ran and ran. 

I am within the garden, climbing over brushes and into the woods that follow. 

It was chilly and cold to handle but I was out of there. I ignored the call for me to return. She didn’t mean onward. 

I continued until my legs gave out. I landed on the cold grass in the middle of nowhere. I breathed heavily. Trees are tall and high. The ground was wet but dirty. But the distance between me and the home I lived in for years is far. I smiled but it fell. I closed my eyes tightly, holding back tears that had started to escape. 

I let go and cried. I lean into my hands, soaking them. 

My crying slowed and looked up. I stared forward.

I noticed something. A person I believe. Is it safe to go after them? Probably? Probably not. But it’s better to be stuck in the same spot until they find me. I got up and followed them.