The Tragic Author

    The scene was writing itself as Amelia sifted through the tableaus in her head watching Cade and Hazel stroll through the park. She wrote of his large callused hands caressing the chin of his beloved as they shared a timid first kiss in the twilight. This would be her masterpiece, she thought. Hazel gazed into the eyes of the man who had finally won her affections and pulled him back in letting her eyes close as a warm wind enveloped the two-made-one. A clenched white fist slammed on the writer's table as 2 small stains appeared on the page, causing ink to run. Her face tightened, eyes clenched shut and leaking as the tears ran down to her chin. She slammed both firsts now, making her pen jump and table shift. Her whole being was shaking. Shaking and sobbing. Hazel had once been created in her image but now the whole scene made her sick. She crumpled the page and ran out the door, tears still drying.

    All around were the perfect scenes. Manhattan was the place of romance and all around her, characters from her many books ran hand in hand, or looked into each other's eyes, or ogled one another as they shared an ice-cream. Now she was given the impossible task, to write yet another tale of beautiful and pure love, one of the greatest she'd ever conceived even after the horrible trauma she'd been through. Her walk took her around the block back to her apartment. I have to finish it.

    Cade was everything a man should be, and Hazel everything a woman should be and together they would be everything the audience could possibly need. Their story began with infatuation, continued into separation, a move to another city and a chance to meet up coincidentally in Manhattan. Fate you say? Cade won her heart and he'd seen in her transformation into a mature and intelligent woman with wit that could almost be seen in the air like the crack of a whip. Now was the time they got together and all would be perfect.

    She continued the scene going a different way, they sat on a bench engrossed in each other's presence, he pushed a lock of her hair back and she put her hand on his thigh as they leaned in with yearning eyes.

    Let me go Logan this isn't what I want. What you want!? You wanted me, you wanted me and you'll have me. No! Get off of me, GET OFF! Hold still you bitch! With every power she had in her body she struggled and thrashed against him. Every time her hand got free a powerful grasp would pin back her wrists before another finally pressed around her throat.

    The tears were back and she held her beautiful scene of the bench clutched for dear life in her trembling fist. Her breath was racing as she grabbed the pad and hurled it to the wall. She thought she might sob, and dropped her head opening her mouth as a gasp escaped, nothing more, just the tears that now ran though her fingers that clutched her shaking contorted face.

    Amelia went to the sink downing a glass of water as her heartbeat slowed. She closed her eyes letting out a pained sigh before filling the kettle for a cup of tea. She stared from the kitchen at the desk and the many completed pages – He's made it impossible for me to even comprehend love anymore. I won't let him win.

    It was time for Hazel and Cade to share their first night together. By far the most part to her readers she'd gathered. Girls would come to her telling that it gave them hope, that it made them dream of the future. Words that warmed her heart but now turned it hard and sore. Cade rolled Hazel to her stomach touching his lips to her spine moving up. Amelia's mind went dark and she felt emotion well up in her gut, she continued, pen fluttering, and her eyes welling with tears. Cade moved slow and sensual planting kisses up her back when suddenly he ripped Hazel's wrist backwards forcing it up. She screamed, pleading for him to stop as he palmed the back of her head forcing it down to the pillow. She writhed with all her might, thrashed wildly trying to get him off as he ripped her panties down.

    Amelia screamed, throwing the contents of the desk off in one motion, sending hundreds of manuscript pages cascading through the air like autumn leaves as she grabbed the edge of the desk with two hands and heaved, sending it rolling across the wood floor. The momentum sent her tumbling to the ground, tripping, and the side of her face hit the floor first with a thud. Hurt and defeated she curled into a ball, the pages falling around her. She let out a helpless sob as tears leaked to the floor beneath her.

    I loved him. Loved him and he… I thought he loved me. I said no… I… more tears escaped as her eyes closed tight and her head trembled with grief against the wood floor. I thought he loved me.

    The book was mailed to her publisher and when printed, had made her a household name. A beautiful story about a perfect couple in a perfect city. What's not to like? It's what the people wanted. No one wanted flaws, no one wanted truths. Amelia stared at her review in the New York Times with tired and defeated eyes. She'd been awake for days. All five stars were inked in. Setting the newspaper down, she stepped up on the stool grasping the rope. Looking out the window she saw all of her characters walking happily through the streets of Manhattan, love in their eyes. She smiled a hurt smile, like a proud mother before she walked off the stool and began to hang.