Free Bitter Sweet Beginnings by Tara Oakes

alone my tears, though I know they are wanting something else.
    They want my words.
    Words that would betray the very essence of my being. Those words could spare my life, but they would also condemn others. Others who may still manage to escape this fate.
    I will not give them my tears OR my words. Those are for me alone. They have already taken enough from me, are still going to take more from me before they are through.
    Although there is naught but darkness around me, I close my eyes. I clear my mind and remember the things that bring peace and calmness.
    Delicate fresh flowers in my memories, swaying in the tiniest of breezes. The beautiful petals each rippling in their own direction, dancing with the wind. The dewey aroma they give off after a cooling rain storm. The grand power they harness to cure ailments and maladies.
    My fingers twitch, imagining the feeling of running the tips of them over those wild flowers. My heart breaks knowing that I will never run through the fields of beautifully-colored blooms again. I t ’ s one more thing the y ’ ll take from me.
    But i t ’ s nothing compared to the greatest of all punishments they are condemning unto me.
    Fresh tears sprinkle my warm cheeks as I finally face the worst of their punishment.
    I wo n ’ t ever see him again.
    I ’ ll never catch his beautiful brown eyes staring at me. I ’ ll never again feel the heavy weight of those eyes as I pretend not to notice. I ’ ll never feel the flush of my concealed skin as I bask in his gaze.
    The soft touch of his hand on mine was everything and more that I could have ever prayed for. It was unexpected and gentle and exhilarating. I remember the moment I first felt his caress and knew for sure that I had finally found that which I did n’ t even know I had longed for.
    The only thing more exquisite than his touch were his words. Words that stirred deep in me to awaken something only he could harness.
    I feel the charged energy from those gathered round. He and I connect, something powerful, drawing us to each other. I do n ’ t feel him now. I t’ s some small mercy in all of this that my last moments wo n’ t be of suffering with him near. I could n ’ t bear that.
    I want him to remember me as I was. The carefree girl he fell in love with. Those are the memories we shall keep of each other.
    Those are the memories I will replay during the next few moments. I know then, that I will die happy.
    The crowd now draws silent. The time has come. I think of his smile, just as I had planned. My shallowed breathing is fast, the air coming quick and hard.
    The time passes both brisk and slow, measured against the thudding heartbeats strumming in my ears.
    I think of his tender caress, and of the lost promise of our wedding night never to be fulfilled.
    I feel the ledged platform underfoot begin to rattle, the vibration unlocking the hidden despair in my being.
    I think of his pooling eyes, searching deep into my own.
    Wood begins to scrape against wood, sliding against the grain, offering a terrible screech that sends a chill up my spine. A weightlessness takes hold as I drop, and the once abundant air is no longer available to me. I feel my feet dangle, my hands confined at the wrist unable to relieve the tortuous burning around my throat.
    I think of his smil e… .

CHAPTER ONE

    I awaken startled, gasping deep breaths that have proven through experience to help me regain some sense of composure. The first seconds immediately after I wake are always the worst, full of terror. It’s hard to distinguish dream from reality in those first few seconds.
    The details of the nightmare are vivid at first, all encompassing, as I remember the sounds, the smells, the feelings. Almost instantly, they begin to fade, leaving nothing but an evaporating impression behind. Before long, there is nothing left but fear and heartbreak, all elements of the dream having been forgotten… until the next time.
    Although the nightly ritual has