Chapter 82 Heavy Rain
After class in the afternoon, I went to pick up that handmade clay cup.
The cup was light blue with a painting of two kids, one tall and one short. The tall one was a boy, around ten, and the short one was a girl with pigtails. She was holding his hand, looking up at him, saying something, while he smiled gently.
This was my clearest memory of Brad from when I was four or five.
I washed the cup until it was spotless, placed it on the table, and admired it. I took some photos to show off on Facebook once Brad got his.
In grad school, the coursework wasn't as intense as at the Northern Institute of the Arts. Our mentor often took us to scenic or historical places for inspiration. We also read classical literature and created works based on our interpretations for credit.
On Friday morning, seventeen of us went with our mentor to visit the Princess's Tomb, thirty-one miles from Regalia.
The Princess's Tomb was more like a large garden with some ancient buildings. The tomb itself wasn't impressive.
Our mentor told us the princess's tragic story: her unrequited love for a young man, her forced marriage due to politics, her rebellion, and her leap from a high wall. She didn't know that after she closed her eyes, the young man she loved returned victorious. The emperor's reward for his victory was her freedom.
But they were separated by death. The young general, heartbroken, couldn't follow her in death because of his family. The king, citing her noble birth, ordered her body taken away, leaving not even a strand of hair. The young general marked her grave with a handkerchief she had given him and never married.
Everyone reacted with sighs and regret, and some criticized the king's cruelty. Two female classmates cried.
Despite the tragic story, our mentor's assignment was "Hope." He wanted us to give the princess a different ending.
This way of creating art was new to us, and we discussed it for a long time.
Our mentor said the assignment was due in two weeks, and the best piece would be exhibited at the Regalia Triennial Art Exhibition.
The Regalia Exhibition featured renowned artists worldwide, and as newcomers, we were excited for the chance to participate.
By the time we finished, it was past three in the afternoon, and the sky was overcast.
We boarded the minibus, and halfway through the journey, Louis called. He was nearby for a meeting and would be done soon, so he asked me to find a place to get off and wait for him.
There was an industrial area ahead with a few fruit vendors, so I got off there to wait for Louis.
Next to the industrial area's gate was a small, abandoned guard booth. I sat on the steps to wait.
I waited for half an hour, but Louis didn't show. Instead, a heavy rainstorm hit.
The rain came down hard and fast. Without an umbrella, I had to take shelter in the booth.
Dark clouds loomed, and the vendors had already fled, leaving me alone.
Past events had left me terrified of heavy rain. Helen, Ronan, and Brad would never let me face a storm alone.
But now, the industrial gate was shut tight, and no one answered my knocks. Thunder rumbled, and the booth swayed in the wind and rain.
I suddenly remembered the despair of standing at the bottom of a well, covered in wounds. Fear gripped me, and my head throbbed. I panicked.
I called Louis several times, but he didn't answer, and his phone eventually turned off.
The automated message's cold voice turned my hope into fear.
When another thunderclap exploded, I lost it. I screamed and ran into the rain.
The rain soaked my dress, making it cling to me. My hair stuck to my face, and the rain stung my eyes.
The suburban roads were bad, and I fell twice after running a short distance. I was covered in dirty water, and my arms and legs were smeared with mud.
After falling again, I vaguely saw Brad's face. He was saying, "Jane, don't be afraid. Brad will be there."
That's right, I should find Brad.
Even if no one else cared, Brad said he would take care of me.
I took out my phone and dialed his number. The call connected, but my phone shut off from the water, killing my last hope.
"Brad, help me!" I shouted.
Fear followed me like the rain, and I felt like I was going to die.
'Brad, hurry up. I'm going to die,' I thought helplessly.
I couldn't move anymore and lay on the muddy ground, staring at the dark sky, losing consciousness.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital.
Outside, it was still gloomy, with rain streaming down the window.
The hospital room was warm, and I was alone. From the half-closed door, I heard angry voices and muffled grunts.
"I didn't expect this. I really had something to do; I didn't mean to break my promise," Louis explained.
"Not knowing isn't an excuse. Didn't you say you liked her and she was your everything? Is this how you treat her? Everything you said was bullshit," Daniel angrily replied.
Louis said, "And you're any better? The whole world can blame me, but you have no right to hit me."
"Hitting you is nothing. If killing wasn't illegal, I'd have done it already," Daniel said.
I heard Daniel swear for the first time.
Louis was anxiously explaining, but Daniel wouldn't listen. Through the gap, I could see them grappling.
It was so annoying.
"The patient hasn't woken up yet. What are you fighting about? If you want to fight, do it outside," a nurse said, pushing open the door with a tray. She smiled when she saw me awake. "You're awake. I'm here to treat the wound on your leg."
The people outside heard I was awake and rushed in together.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
