Chapter 1

                                    

                                          
"But I am not a vegetarian." Nor will I ever be. I complained for the first time. Because all these years, why didn't he notice it?
                          
"One day your tongue will get used to that, little girl." Little girl. It had no use for me arguing with my father trying to tell for the millionth time that I was no little girl anymore. Every time he mentioned those words, I was getting annoyed. But for now, strangely, I wasn't. 
                          
"Tonight's dish has improved, Chris," I finally commented, since it was asked of me every night. Just like any other usual day, this girl was taking the exact same sweet dinner with her father. I always tried to take note of my father's progress. Chris needed it, I said in my mind, not Chris himself, his work instead. He was expert at cooking, and he kept on trying as much recipes as he could. I could even say he knew hundreds. 
                          
But he was better at healing. He mastered the skill because he knew it so well even if I was still in my mother's womb.
                          
Then for once again, like for the thousandth time (seriously), Chris's eyes were getting red and wet with tears. "I should've cooked for your mother when she was still alive. These dishes I've discovered." 
                          
I stopped my eating and quickly ran beside him because my mind told me that this would not be good. "It was my fault, Clarissa. It always was."
                          
"No, don't say that! She's alive, she's not dead. How many times do I have to say that?" I felt tears streaming down my face. 
                          
"How couldn't I say, Clarissa? I should've been with her for all the time we both had, because that's what we do, right? Because we love them so much. So so much." Even in words, even in his voice, I could feel his anguish. I hugged him tighter because my mind knew that he was about to cry. 
                          
"I should've chosen love. I should've sacrificed . . . I should've chosen her and take every damn risk!" He shouted. "I said that I would accept the odds. Whether good or terrible. I was always afraid. Fuck my cowardice."
                          
I let go of my hug and cupped my hands in his face. "Dad, look at me," I told him. That must've been too quiet. Or maybe he just couldn't. "Look at me!" I raised my voice. He gave in and looked.
                          
"Listen," I began and looked at his eyes pooled with guilt, regret, and sorrow. "It. Is. Not. Your fault. A sacrifice—if abandoning the love of your life was needed to save the both of you, then tell me, was that your fault?"
                          
"Yes," he defiantly whispered."I was madly in love with your mother. We were loving each other, everything was almost perfect. Me, her, and you inside her belly. When she gave birth to you, I took you and left her. I ran away as far as my feet could take me. I abandoned her, Clarissa," he was touching my hair, and suddenly put down his hand. His anger rising in his face. "And now she died. All because of me."
                          
I loved my mother, even though I never met her. But she was loved the most by Father. 
                          
Assuming that my mother was alive, it made me feel hopeful. 
                          
There was no evidence, not even a mere piece—her body wasn't showed to us, not even her gravestone. And even the ones who buried her were unknown. An unknown person told Father about the news and a proper burial. A trustworthy and honest friend of his.
                          
I was back again on my bed. Sleep got me immediately since I was really weary. Memories had begun to haunt me once again.
                          
Father was depressed and full of despair that he almost ended his life the time he heard the news of my mother's death. I was too little and too young by this time. Alex, my childhood close friend, had luckily interrupted his attempt. He was the nearest person there and barely saved his life. And then someone came pounding at our door, and when Alex opened it, no one was there. Only then did he notice that he was stepping on a thin sheet used for writing. The paper told that we needed to leave as soon as possible because our lives were at danger. There was no more time to oppose at the idea, in spite of the questions I wanted to ask.
                          
What unexpectedly happened was that Alex insisted to come with us. I grew up knowing him, and as far as we were concerned, we were the best buddies in this history.
                          
Whatever happened here, he was already involved. And whoever wanted to kill us probably wanted him dead too. Even though his parents were dead, it was Chris who adopted him. I would never forget the fact that he saved my father's life. Would you leave the person who saved the lives of anyone who's dear to you? And to tell frankly, I didn't want to go without my crush. 
                          
I was aroused in the middle of the night as if I had a nightmare. The only thing left on my mind was the vision I saw. In that past memory, there were numerous things I missed, I was pretty sure. What I saw in the vision let me feel how ancient it was. It seemed like it happened thousands of years ago. 
                          
The hairs on my skin rose. It was dark all around my room. The cold wind was coming inside, making the curtains dance. There was a whisper to my ear saying: There is nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run.