Till We Meet Again (Chapter 1)

Till We Meet Again (Chapter 1)

A Story by Mari Baptiste

This is my first work of fiction (based loosely off of real events).

Clanging of church bells echo through the halls, and the sisters float along the convent’s cobble stone floors in their white and blue habits.

There was another wedding at the Cathedral next door.

Normally, the union of a man and a woman before God would be something to rejoice about.

Lately, however, the sound of the bells made the elder nuns uneasy.

Sister Dulce turns to the plump, Spanish Reverend Mother beside her.

“Are you alright, Sor Angeles?”

“Yes, yes. I’m alright...”

Dulce had known Sor Angeles long enough to know when she was upset, even when she says otherwise.

“Is it about Ruza?”

She sighs and fixes her gaze upon the fountain at the center of the courtyard. The water that spurted out from the center looked a lot like a wedding veil over a bride.

“What do we do, Dulce? Each time this happens, we end up finding the poor girl in the Adoration crying her eyes out. Then, she goes into seclusion for weeks. It scares me you know...I worry that it will just consume her one day”

“There isn’t really much we can do at this point other than be here for her. She’s been keeping herself busy with the embroidery and hostia production. She hardly speaks, but smiles whenever she can when with her fellow novitiates. She really has been trying to cope, Reverend Mother.”

The Reverend Mother stayed silent as she gestured for them to walk towards the Adoration Chapel. Sister Dulce, understanding what she meant, follows her.

This had been the drill for the last three months.


There is a stereotype that the convent is a place for broken hearted women. Although not every nun is a broken hearted woman, there is a 40:60 ratio of heartbroken sisters to sisters by calling.

Ruza was no exception to this.

The rain had just stopped that night. Black, bejewelled Manolos Blahniks splash into the puddles along the the sidewalk. The water had splattered all over her ankles and calves, the hem of her cream coloured coat, stained with mud.

She was soaked from head to toe. Had it been a normal day, she would’ve brought an umbrella or even the car. But on that day, she could really care less about the stains. All she could care about was getting to where she needed to go.

As she walked, she recalled the news that she had received earlier that evening; the reason why she was walking so late at night with two suit cases.

He was gone.

The love of her life!
Her joy!
Her everything!

“It was a car accident,” her mother told her.

“Car accident?? How is that possible?? He was such a careful driver!”

“Ruza...calm down-“

“No! I cannot believe this! I refuse to believe this!!!”

“Fine! Would you like to see the body?? The burnt, bloodied, and mutilated body of his??”

She fell silent. Her mother had thrown the photos from the police report right on the table for her to see. Words were not enough to describe the horror in her eyes.

This can’t be...no...

The rain drenched Manolos come to a stop at the gates of the convent. Her shakey hands ring the bell.


© 2018 Mari Baptiste

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A very sad ending. You took the reader into the story and make them feel and see each situation. The ending left the reader with sadness. Thank you Mari for sharing the powerful and worthwhile story.

Posted 9 Months Ago

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1 Review
Added on February 21, 2018
Last Updated on February 21, 2018
Tags: Love, Heartbreak, Romance


Mari Baptiste
Mari Baptiste


I discovered my passion for writing a little bit later compared to other writers my age. Most of them start at around 13 or 14. I only started at 17. My teachers told me that I had a knack for writing.. more..