Winter

This is a work of fiction written by Isabella Rose on 12/3/2025. Those who know me can easily understand the truth.

His texts were few and far between as the illness slowly but steadily hijacked his mind. She wanted to scream, “Why are you leaving me,” but she knew he was dying and there was nothing she could do, but watch.

He asked her to make the trip across the Atlantic to visit him two months before December. The month they had originally planned to see one another. She was a bit curious about the rapid change, but not enough to devote too much mental energy to it. Like many times before, she sat next to him, but he pulled her closer this time.

He began slowly, deliberately measuring each word, “Little One, I’m dying., and I don’t want to upset you, but I never planned to let the illness get to this point.” His dark eyes looked away from hers before his voice trailed off. “I needed you to see and understand how unwell I am.”

She collapsed into tears as he pulled her closer. “Hey. I’m Hades, remember? I can’t die.”

How she wished with every broken piece of her heart that their fantasies were true. That cruel diagnosis was a horrible mistake. The week seemed to pass too quickly, and before she knew it, she was at Heathrow, and he was singing to her:

“You are my sunshine. My only sunshine…”

She slid the lock screen open, punching in the security code, expecting to see the comforting “Good morning, My Foxette” text. Smiling as the familiar messaging app icon appeared in the corner, her eyes focused.

The message read, “Have you heard from Raven? It is urgent that I reach him.”

Her heart sped up at this cryptic text from his mom. “No. I haven’t heard from him.”

The phone buzzed to life again, “He called his brother. He’s in prison.”

A silent scream formed within her as every loving moment cascaded through her mind. The memories danced as she tried desperately to hold onto them. She collapsed onto her worn sofa in a fit of tears as the awful realization took hold. She would never see him again, never be wrapped in his embrace.

That joyous December night found a way into her mind. The merry go round whirled as she filled her lungs with the cold December air. The Christmas lights illuminated the dark sky and somehow made the world feel peaceful and amazing. She did it. She was in Britian with someone she loved, and someone who she suspected loved her just as much. That expectation turned into a known fact, and they found a natural rhythm of coming and going from the busy Heathrow airport. Upon every arrival, he was always waiting to greet her by the gate with a smile and an adoring look.

She heard sobbing; the cry of a wounded and mournful spirit. It was coming from her. The peace she experienced on the merry go round was gone, the happiness she once felt drained from her as if someone turned off the light.

The criminal justice system, the probation officer, and whoever else was involved with monitoring the person they considered “a danger to society” would never see the kind and poetic gentleman who wrapped her up when she was sick, comforted her during the death of her pets, or read to her. The headlines detailing his past crime were so stupid. A frenzied knife attack, the press had called it. Released on a life license, he was to be monitored for any signs of being a “danger to the public.” The irony of it all was astounding. How could such a loving person ever be dangerous?

He smiled when she once brought it up. “You are my world, and I love how you see me,” before kissing her on the forehead gently.

Regardless, the terms of the life sentence were clear. No excuses. No explanations needed. He had offended the crown, and they were absolute over what must be done now. He would die behind bars.

He called her his light, his world, his everything. The last remaining shred of hope leaked from her.

She no longer existed.