chapter-18: Estelle

[ Estelle had always been a solitary figure. Her baby-blue eyes, framed by roundish almond-shaped lenses, often observed the world with a quiet intensity. Black, wavy hair cascaded down her shoulders, a stark contrast to her pale complexion. From kindergarten through her final year of high school, friendships remained elusive. It wasn't for lack of trying; each attempt at conversation ended in awkward silence or polite dismissal.

Despite her academic excellenceโ€”teachers' favorite, top of her classโ€”Estelle couldn't bridge the gap between herself and her peers. She wasn't wealthy, but she found joy in tutoring younger students after school. Yet, the camaraderie her classmates shared remained a mystery.

๐˜ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ค๐˜ฉ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฑ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ she mused, watching a group laugh together. ๐˜Œ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ฉ ๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ฑ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ด ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ. ๐˜ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ฏ'๐˜ต ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ณ ๐˜ด๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ฆ. ๐˜ž๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ฌ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต? ๐˜ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ. ๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ฌ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ด๐˜ถ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜จ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ.

Her thoughts drifted as she gazed out at the school field. Ciro, the popular boy, was playing football. His ice-blue eyes and blonde balayage hair shimmered under the sun.

๐˜๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฎ? Estelle thought ๐˜๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ข ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ญ ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ต ๐˜ฑ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ, ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ซ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฌ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ.

๐˜š๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜บ, ๐˜ข ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ต. ๐˜Œ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ช๐˜ง ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ค๐˜ณ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ, ๐˜ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฏ'๐˜ต ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ค๐˜ฉ ๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ ๐˜ข๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ณ. ๐˜๐˜ต'๐˜ด ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ญ ๐˜จ๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ญ๐˜ด ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ด๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜บ. ๐˜š๐˜ฐ ๐˜ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜บ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ. ๐˜ ๐˜ซ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ค๐˜ถ๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ.

But it seemed that Estelle's quiet resolve to focus on her future was not something the universe planned to respect.

Her days continued, painted in shades of solitude and self-discipline, until the weight of reality struck too suddenly, too cruelly.

Her motherโ€”her only family, her quiet anchorโ€”fell ill.

And no matter how much Estelle tried to fight against the fear, no matter how much she prayed for more time, the world didn't bend to her wishes.

Not this time.

Her mother passed away.

The house became quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that echoed.

Estelle had always been alone in the world, but nowโ€ฆ now she was truly on her own.

Her father, a ghost of a man she never met, had been taken before she was even born. And now her mother, the last thread tying her to any sense of warmth, was gone too.

She stood by the window of their small apartment that night, arms folded against herself, watching the city lights blur through her tears.

No one came to comfort her.

No one knew how.

And maybe, Estelle thought, no one ever would.

But stillโ€ฆ somehow, she would go on.

Even if she had to walk forward alone.

Estelle sat by the bus window, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery, though she saw none of it. The world outside moved in a blur, mirroring the haze within her. Since her mother's passing, days had melded into one another, each indistinct from the last. The once comforting routine of school and tutoring now felt hollow.

The bus jolted to an abrupt stop, snapping her from her reverie. A boy stumbled slightly, catching himself by gripping the seat beside her.

"Hey, are you okay? I'm really sorry. The bus stopped suddenly, and I lost my balance," he said, concern evident in his voice.

Estelle blinked, her mind slowly registering the present. She turned to face him, recognition dawning.She thought ๐˜ค๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ? ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ?

"Estelle! Are you okay? I'm really sorry about earlier," he repeated, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded, attempting a smile. "I'm alright... Totally fine. Nothing happened."

Ciro frowned. "What do you meanโ€”wait, what happened? What are you talking about?"

"No, nothing... It was nothing. I should be going now," she said, gathering her belongings.

As she stood, Ciro gently held her hand. "Wait, this isn't your stop. Where are you going?"

Estelle's heart raced.

๐˜๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ท๐˜ฆ?

Flashback: Unspoken Affection

Ciro had always noticed Estelle. Her quiet demeanor, the way she immersed herself in books, the subtle sadness in her eyesโ€”it all drew him in. Yet, he never found the courage to speak to her.

After the passing of Estelle's mother, Ciro observed a change. She became more withdrawn, her eyes reflecting a deeper sorrow.

Determined to ensure her safety, Ciro began following her from school to home and back, maintaining a distance, always in the shadows.

And that was the moment when Estelle and Ciro truly spoke to each other for the first time.

After that day, their conversations grew slowly, naturally โ€” exchanging small talks at first, then smiles in the hallways, and eventually sitting together during school breaks.

Before she even realized it, Estelle's broken heart had started to mend, simply because Ciro had quietly placed himself by her side.

In time, she began to move forward.

Shortly after, she took on a new student โ€” a small, quiet girl named Ludowici.

Estelle immediately grew fond of her.

Ludowici came from a poor background. She struggled in her studies and found it difficult to connect with her classmates. She was often alone โ€” just like Estelle had once been.

But now, Estelle wasn't alone anymore.

She had Ciro.

She had Ludowici.

After graduating from school, Estelle and Ciro became a couple.

Estelle continued tutoring Ludowici, pouring her heart into teaching.

Day by day, with Ciro's unwavering support and Ludowici's eager efforts, Estelle moved past the sorrows of her old life.

Eventually, Estelle fulfilled her dream and became a primary school teacher.

At first, no one paid attention to her lessons. The classroom often buzzed with noise, with students too restless to listen.

But Estelle never gave up.

Even if the whole world turned away, she would see Ludowici sitting there โ€” always in the first row, always paying attention, soaking in every word.

For Estelle, Ludowici became her hope, her patience, and the living proof that her love for teaching had a place in this world.

Just when Estelle had finally embraced her happy life and married Ciro, fate played its cruel hand.

An unfortunate tragedy struck.

Ciro lost his life in a track accidentโ€”saving Estelle from being hit. He had pushed her out of the way in time, but the cost was his own life.

The grief crushed Estelle.

When Ludowici heard about what had happened, she gently proposed they visit a small park beside a lake, hoping to lift Estelle's spirit even if only a little.

They rented a boat and drifted slowly across the water.

But as they rode, a sudden slip made Ludowici tumble into the lakeโ€”she couldn't swim.

Without hesitation, Estelle jumped after her, pulling her back to the shore.

Panting and soaked, Estelle noticed something: her precious necklace, the one Ciro had gifted her, was missing from her neck.

Panic gripped her.

Without a second thought, she dove into the lake again, searching desperately.

Finally, her fingers brushed against the necklace resting among the stones. But just as she grabbed it and turned to swim upward, something strange happenedโ€”

The water around her changed.

It turned from a lake into a vast, deep, endless blue ocean.

Instead of rising, Estelle felt herself sinking further, deeper into the abyss.

The surface seemed farther and farther away.

๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ.. ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ฆ

The thought passed through her mind like a quiet whisper.

As she sank, memories began flashing vividly before her closed eyesโ€”

Cooking with Ciro, riding bicycles together, running freely through endless green fields, lying beside each other under warm blankets, sharing laughter and tearsโ€”

Every precious, bittersweet memory unfolded like a beautiful, aching film.

She clutched the necklace tightly against her chest, letting the darkness and the memories embrace her as she slowly surrendered to the deep.