Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph

"Ethan, why are you so good to me?" I asked, staring at his face lit by the faint moonlight from the stairwell.

He set me down at my doorstep, lowered his head slightly, and his damp hair fell forward. His Adam's apple bobbed like he had a lot to say, but he just took my keys and calmly said, "I don't want you to suffer." I must've used up all my luck meeting him. Growing up, I got very little genuine care just my parents, Seagull, and Bella.

Ethan came into my life when I was at my lowest. His kindness made me both attached and uneasy.

First thing I did at home was place my mom's photo on the mantel.

I moved a stool over, and Ethan offered to help. I insisted on doing it myself, so he held the stool for me, his other hand hovering near my waist like a steadfast knight.

After I placed my mom's photo next to my dad's, he said, "Go change out of those wet clothes, or you'll catch a cold."

When I came out after my shower in my nightgown, I saw his tall figure standing by the old desk. The soft light from the desk lamp bathed him, his silhouette blending into a pool of gentle light. "Does the tape recorder still work?" Ethan asked, pointing to it.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

"It should, but it hasn't been used in a long time," I said, drying my hair.

Ethan put a tape in. The sound was distorted at first but soon returned to normal.

As the song played, my mind drifted.

"In the depths of despair, where shadows reside, a flicker of hope, deep down inside. Hold on, weary soul, don't give in. A new dawn awaits, where strength will begin."

This tape has a story. When my parents had consecutive accidents, I almost couldn't hold on.

At sixteen, a medical student came to my school and donated a thousand dollars to me. It was a huge sum. I wanted to thank him, but he was already gone, leaving only the money, the tape, and his email. After contacting him, I found out he was Seagull, the one who had always been helping me.

The tape was an album by The Thorn Birds Band, a local favorite known for covering Queen's songs and creating originals.

"Flicker of Hope" was one of their originals. The soulful voice and healing lyrics always made me feel better.

Seagull and I kept in touch through emails, but I never met him.

The song flowed gently from the tape recorder. Ethan stood with his hands in his pockets, and I stood not far behind him. We were both captivated by the music.

Every lyric inspired me, urging me to stand up again.

When the song ended, I was still lost in its mood when Ethan, with his back to me, said in a deep, steady voice, "The strongest person isn't Superman, but the warrior who gets knocked down a hundred times and gets up the hundred and first time. The former is just strong, but the latter is fearless."

Ethan was like my mentor, teaching me to recover quickly and keep fighting against fate.

"I'm leaving. You should get some rest," he suddenly said.

By the time I reacted, he was already at the door, opening it to leave. His wet shirt clung to his back, outlining his muscles.

I heard the rain getting heavier and, on a whim, said, "The rain's getting worse. Why not sleep on my couch tonight and leave in the morning?"

He slowly turned around, leaning against the door, and smiled, his voice low and sexy. "Emily, I told you, I never take advantage of someone in a vulnerable state."