Love Began with the First Meeting

Brian disregarded his wound. He couldn't even feel the pain. It was too insignificant to warrant his attention. But now, it began to hurt, because when he looked at Molly, he saw sorrow and disgust in her tired eyes. Maybe she was trying to hide these emotions, but he could detect them. He did not understand if she was sneering at him or at herself and her bitter past. The wound hurt, the heart hurt too. He felt as if his heart was being gripped by something stronger than his rationality. He frowned at his own lack of control over his emotions.

"Can't you quietly follow my commands for just a few days?" Brian asked firmly with annoyance laced in his voice, his anger concealed. Hearing his calm words, Molly felt a wave of cold rise from the bottom of her feet and it overwhelmed her. She found no emotion on his face and there was nothing but indifference in his eyes. Before she could reply, Brian continued,"Is it bad that I treat you a little better? When I show you a little mercy, you forget your identity and place, and you forget what you are supposed to do here, right?"

Due to her throat, she could not speak a word in return. She bit her lips even harder, making the blood creep into her mouth. She felt the taste of rust enveloping her mouth as endless sadness and bitterness haunted her. Her lips curled into a pitiful smile, coldness unfolded on her face, as though it was telling the world her tragic stories of the past and the current dilemma she was in. She gazed at Brian. She pretended to be calm and nonchalant. But her clutched hands started quivering which quickly revealed her real feelings. A gush of emotions overwhelmed her.

'I will never forget that I am just a pastime toy for you, who belongs only to you. But, even as a toy, I am still a human with thoughts and feelings. I have a family too, like any other. I want to see them as well. I want to be with them. I am only twenty years old. I am obviously scared and lonely. I am not strong or brave enough to overcome all these horrible experiences so easily. I am just a vulnerable girl who desires the shelter of my parent's home when I get hurt. I also want to cry out about my pitiful state to them, to tell them about everything I have suffered through and I want to get all this sadness off my chest. Although I don't want my parents to worry about me, I still do want to see worry and care in my parents' eyes.'

she could not speak now, but also because it was not necessary to say it. The only thing she could do was stare squarely

even wanted to accuse him of what he had done to her. She wanted a real and terrible quarrel with him, but it seemed impossible anymore. She

cords impairment caused by the

brave and strong she was. She kept trying to tell herself that she did not care. Aunt Shirley had said,"No matter what happens, we should move forward and press on ahead. The more effort we put in, more hopes we will have in the future. And finally, someday we will get a chance." But she had overestimated herself. Last night, she could not fall asleep and lay awake, tossing and turning. A sense of

turned out to be. Her beautiful eyes, her pitiful smile and the immense pain in

the nails sunk into her flesh painfully; there was physical pain along with the mental stress. She somehow managed to keep her composure. She wanted to be