Chapter 1
"-last thing I see.
I want you to know it's enough for me.
'Cause all that you are is all that I'll ever need.
I'm so in love, so in lo-"
"So in love my arse," he grumbled under his breath while turning the radio off.
Such sweet songs had always managed to spoil away his mood, considering his own love-life was much more in the trash-worthy category.
It was way past midnight now, and he still had not gone back home.
Home - if it could even be called that.
His home was a place he retired to when, and only when, he was exhausted beyond measures and his boss won't allow him to kip it in the garage.
Sighing he rolled down the windows and allowed cool air to rush inside the taxi.
He read the time off his worn-out wrist watch to see how many more hours he could squeeze in before he'd have to head back to the garage.
It read 2:30.
"An hour or two more then," he mused to himself.
He stuck his head out the window to check himself in the side mirror.
His eyes were bloodshot, a clear indication of lack of sleep; and his face was covered with a week's old stubble and wrinkles - not from old age though, he was barely thirty.
The lines masking his face were a proof of hard work that had not been justly rewarded, rather than age-old wisdom.
Rubbing a tired hand down his face, he willed himself to smile and then took the taxi out of parking.
About twenty minutes later, driving down a specifically lit-up street, he had almost given up hope on finding a passenger.
"One would've thought there'd be drunken people looking for a safe ride home on New Year's Eve," he angrily muttered under his breath.
Just as he was about to take a turn to the next block, he saw a couple waving him down.
Thanking his lucky stars that had, for once, decided to actually provide him with luck, he quickly turned back around and towards the couple.
However, his smile soon turned into a grimace.
His soon-to-be passengers consisted of a black-haired girl and a brown-haired guy.
They were both dressed up in rather fancy clothing.
Probably out from an equally fancy party, he darkly thought to himself.
They were both obviously drunk, but not so much as to completely be out of it.
Though what caused the frown to appear on his face was the fact that they looked oh so in love with each other as they stood there, contently waiting for their hailed taxi.
The guy opened the door, "In you go, my dear."
"Such a gentleman you are," remarked the girl with barely concealed mirth before sliding inside the taxi.
The brunet followed her and closed the door after himself.
"Where to?" he asked.
"Uh... just up to 6th lake avenue, mate."
Cool air rushed in through the opened windows, but it wasn't enough to calm his nerves.
He couldn't help but glance back at the couple through the rear-view mirror and feel envious.
The gold bands round their ring fingers indicated they were married.
And the giggling and hushed, soft voices indicated that they were in fact very much in love too.
All the while the only thing he could wonder was thatwhy couldn't he be as happy as them?
They were obviously younger than him and yet had been able to find true love, while he was stuck in the same old swamp he'd always been in.
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel to keep a lid on his emotions.
Already he had been feeling down tonight, seeing people celebrating the New Year all around him while he was barely floating in the sea of his never-ending sorrows.
Then just as if the Universe was trying to rub it in his face, this happy... this... this perfectdreamcouple popped right in front of him.
Buildings, street lights, cars, everything raced past his side vision in a quick blur.
He felt so numb and yet so angry, all at the same time, that it was getting hard to concentrate on actually driving.
"Slow it down a bit, mate.
We'd like to reach home with our bodies intact," the guy commented from the back seat.
As if breaking free from a trance, his head snapped towards the speedometer.
He was going well above the speed limit and it was a miracle in itself that he had not been pulled over yet.
However, the very next second his thoughts took a complete 180 degree turn, deciding that having been pulled over would've definitely been better.
It all happened in a blur then: unintentionally crossing the red-light and then being caught in the spotlight - or rather the headlight of the coming trolley.
"Shit!" he cursed.
It was too late though, and he knew it.
He tried to swerve the car but he wasn't fast enough.
The trolley collided with the taxi from the side, smack in the middle of the front and back door.
In slow motion, the impact caused the taxi to roll over and take a few turns before finally crashing into a nearby tree.
Blood trickled down his face as he hung upside-down, strapped to the seat with the seatbelt.
He glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw the brunet lying unconscious, already in a puddle of red.
The girl was on top of him and his arms were still tightly wound around her waist.
With a mixture of awe and horror he realised that the guy had protected his wife from the fall when the car had rolled over.
His last thoughts then, before he too went into a possible eternal slumber, did not consist of his own wife or his own horrible life, but of the crushing realisation that he had possibly ruined someone else's.
The sound of birds chirping is what woke me up.
That and the fact that my sister was blaring rock music so loud that it reverberated through the walls.
But let's go back to the nice birds.
These birds were one of the reasons I loved my flat.
The compound was situated near a park, a habitat for numerous beautiful, little winged creatures.
And just beside my room was a large oak tree which served as the platform for the melodious orchestra of the birds' singing every morning.
I loved waking up to the sound of little birds chirping beside my window – as long as I wasn't deafened by my sister's music instead.
Sorry, it's awfully hard to ignore such loud music that it practically rocks your soul and that too not in a good way.
Grumbling and cursing under my breath, I finally pushed myself off of the bed and marched towards my sister's room.
"Stop that nonsense before I stop your heart," I hissed after tearing open the door to her room.
"Chill, sis," came the reply from my beautiful sister, Annie.
"It's just music."
"Rockmusic at8bloodya.m.!"
Annie held up her hands in defence and stepped back a few paces to turn off the speakers.
"There," she began cautiously, "it's off now."
"Good." The deep scowl dissolved from my face but left behind a small frown.
Annie smiled encouragingly before pushing past me and down the hallway.
"Do you want some breakfast or would you rather just go and eat from that stupid café around the block?" she asked and then sourly added under her breath, "Like I even need to ask that."
"I heard that, you know."
"You were supposed to, you know," she said mimicking my voice.
I laughed in response and followed her to our little kitchen where I stood by the counter.
Our little flat was not very luxurious and neither very huge; just big enough for the two of us.
It had a small living room that also served as our drawing room for whenever we had any visitors.
Beside it was the open kitchen with marbled counter to the side.
The place had two bedrooms with a small corridor in-between.
At the end of the corridor was another room that contained all our supplies along with an ironing table and a washing machine.
In the living room we had gotten a large bookshelf installed when we had first moved in here about two years back – right after my parents' death as they drowned trying to save each other after having fallen off a boat – and that bookshelf contained all the numerous books that us two sisters had collected through the years.
I watched as Annie opened a drawer, took out various ingredients and laid them out on the counter.
"You know, one of these days I'm gonna start to believe that you secretly hate my cooking and that that's the real reason behind your early morning runs to that cafe," commented Annie.
"Aw love, you know that's not true.
I love your cooking!"
"Love it so much as to throw up out of pure bliss and admiration," she retorted.
I raised my hands in defence.
"Okay that was one time, Annie.
One time.
And I've already told you that I was sick that day!
Your cooking, your amazing and mouth-watering cooking, had nothing to do with it!"
Annie muttered under her breath, "So you say."
"Okay so let us not start the day on a bad foot here," I manoeuvred my way over to her and placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek.
"I'll quickly run to the cafe, grab my cocoa and eggs, and run right back to you.
Then we'll have breakfast together like two dear sisters who love each other to the world's end."
"Always the dramatic one," said Annie as she rolled her eyes, but slipped her arm round my waist nonetheless.
"Always the sarcastic one," I teased right back before engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug.