"Hey Belle," Mirabel said in a low tone.
"Hi Mirabel, how are you doing?" Annabelle replied.
"Please come over. I really need you by my side now," Mirabel asked.
"Did anything bad happen? What's wrong?" Annabelle asked.
"Please come over. I need you," Mirabel repeated.
"Alright, I'm on my way," Annabelle said.
Mirabel ended the call and broke down into tears. Her body lay still on the floor, her makeup ruined from the tears and her hair tattered and rough. Her face had scratch marks from her own nails, and she was in a devastated state.
She gently moved towards her drawer and reached for her diary. "Diary," she wrote, "Why? What's my mistake? What wrong have I done to deserve this treatment? What offense did I commit? Why do I always have to suffer like this? Why do I always have to suffer?"
"Mirabel, please open the door. What's wrong?" Nanny shouted from outside the room.
Mirabel stopped writing. "Nanny, I'm alright. Nothing happened," she said.
"I don't believe you, Mirabel. Please open the door, dear," Nanny replied.
"No, Nanny. I'm fine. Don't worry," Mirabel said.
"Can you hear yourself? Your voice doesn't sound convincing. Please open the door, dear," Nanny insisted.
Mirabel dragged herself towards the door and unlocked it. Nanny rushed in, saw Mirabel's state, and immediately picked her up. "What have you done to yourself, dear?" Nanny asked, tears dropping down her cheeks.
"Nanny, am I so bad that nothing good happens to me?" Mirabel asked.
"Don't say that, dear. Pull yourself together," Nanny said, carefully moving Mirabel to the bed and placing her head on her lap.
"Dear, what happened? Why are you like this?" Nanny asked.
"I just want to die. I want to leave this world," Mirabel said.
"Shut up!" Nanny interrupted. "What are you saying, dear? Why are you saying this?"
"Everything, Nanny! Everything!" Mirabel said, raising her head from Nanny's lap. "Everything is wrong with me..."
"Mirabel..." Annabelle said, her voice emerging from outside the room. "What have you done to yourself?" She rushed to Mirabel's side and hugged her tightly. "Mirabel, what happened?"
"Belle, I'm cursed. I'll never find true love. I'll never be happy..." Mirabel said.
"Don't say that, Mirabel. Tell me what happened. Did something happen between you and Vicky?" Annabelle asked.
"She hasn't said a word since she returned from her date with Vicky," Nanny explained. "She recently just opened the door for me."
"Date?" Mirabel repeated, releasing herself from Annabelle's arms. "What date?" She laughed. "Vicky and I didn't have a date. We didn't have a date... Oh no, no. What I meant was I didn't have a date with him, but Vicky had a date. He... he..." She paused, tears dropping down her face. "He..." She slapped herself across the face and fell to the ground.
"Mirabel!!!" Annabelle and Nanny shouted, rushing to her side. "Why did you do that? Are you insane?" Annabelle asked, pulling her up.
"Yes, I've gone insane. I'm mad. I'm crazy to think I'll ever be happy. I'm crazy to think I'll ever have a good relationship. I'm crazy, Belle. I truly am..." Mirabel said.
"Stop this now!" Nanny said, slapping Mirabel across the face and shaking her. "Pull yourself together. Tell us what happened."
"It's Vicky. He... he... We were supposed to have a date, and he went out with Rose. He was with her at the restaurant we were supposed to go to together. He was at the same place where we were meant to sort things out and fix all the broken pieces in our relationship, but he was with Rose... He was with Rose, Nanny... He..."
Mirabel started crying and screaming at the top of her voice. "Mirabel, calm down. Calm yourself down. Everything will be okay," Annabelle said.
"I can't calm down. I can't. Nothing will be fine. Nothing will be okay!" Mirabel replied, her voice rising. She slowly stopped talking, and her eyes started closing. "Mirabel, what's wrong? Are you alright?" Annabelle asked.
"Nothing will..." Mirabel said before suddenly falling to the ground.
"Mirabel!" Nanny screamed, shaking her head. Mirabel's eyes weren't opening.
"Don't worry, Nanny. She's unconscious. She'll be fine," Annabelle said. "Let's call the doctor." Nanny said
" She'll be fine ,let's lift her up," Annabelle replied. Annabelle and Nanny carried Mirabel to her bed and tucked her in.
"Why would Vicky do something like this? Why?" Annabelle asked, sitting beside Mirabel.
Meanwhile, Vicky sat alone at the bar, nursing his drink. The amber liquid seemed to blur together with his thoughts. The dim lighting of the bar matched his mood, and the sounds of clinking glasses and muted conversations created a numbness that he welcomed. He tossed back another shot, feeling the burn all the way down, hoping it would dull the ache in his chest.
At home, Caroline sat in the living room, her eyes fixed on the clock on the wall. She had expected Vicky to be home hours ago, but the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the ticking of the clock. She tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. A growing sense of worry creased her brow as she thought about where he might be and what he might be doing.
As Vicky continued to drink, the world around him began to spin, and his thoughts grew foggy. He vaguely remembered stumbling out of the bar, the cool night air hitting him like a slap in the face. He fumbled for his phone, but it slipped from his fingers, falling to the ground with a crack. Vicky didn't notice; he was too lost in his haze.
"Mirabel, why did you leave? I wanted... I wanted to apologize... I wanted to hug..." Vicky muttered as he staggered on the road, missing his footing and falling on his face.
"Mirabel, I love you... Why don't you understand? It's not... what you think..." he said as he picked himself up and staggered on.
Caroline's anxiety grew as the hours ticked by. She twisted and turned on her bed, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. She tried calling Vicky again, but there was no answer. The silence was suffocating, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
As the night wore on, Vicky stumbled home, his steps unsteady. Caroline heard the noise and sat up on her bed. "Vicky, are you home?" she asked, but she got no response. She put her feet on the floor and stood up, feeling the pain in her knee but ignoring it. She struggled to the main door and saw Vicky lying on the floor. Immediately, she rushed to his side, her expression a mix of relief and concern.
"Vicky, where have you been? What's wrong with you?" she asked, her voice firm but laced with worry.
Vicky looked up at her, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "I'm fine, Mum. I'm fine. Don't worry..." he replied, trying to get up but falling back to the ground.
"No, Vicky, you're not fine. Look at the awful state you're in. You can barely stand," Caroline said.
"Mum, you should've remained in bed. The doctor said... I'm fine," Vicky said, standing up on his feet and haggardly walking into his bedroom.
Caroline watched him, her heart heavy with concern. She knew that look, that tone – it was the same thing that happened when Rose dumped him. She followed him to his room, her worry for Vicky subduing her pain. Vicky collapsed onto the bed, fully clothed.
"Vicky, we need to talk," she said softly, sitting beside him. But Vicky was already drifting off, lost in a cloud of alcohol-induced sleep. The room was quiet, except for Vicky's labored breathing.
Caroline gently removed his shoes and pulled a blanket over him, her eyes never leaving his face. She knew that tomorrow would bring its own set of challenges, but for now, she just sat there, watching over her son, hoping that the dawn would bring clarity and peace.