Hey! Here's another chapter...I think it's getting pretty intense! Anyhoo,I would really love if you all would hit that review button! Enjoy!
After what I saw with Logan,I went home.
No tears. No emotion. Just walking home. In silence.
When I entered my house,my parents weren't anywhere in site. They were probably still working. I head up to my room,and sit down on my bed.
Nothing is on my mind. Nothing .
At school,in the prop room,I gently put the picture of Logan and I,in my pocket. It was small enough.
I took it out,and looked over it again.
It looked so...peaceful. We,looked so peaceful.
I had to.
I got my sketch pad,and a pencil.
I started drawing.
I didn't exactly know what it is that I was trying to accomplish here,but when a good 1 hour of writing,I finished.
Half of it.
Just the half of Logan.
Why? Because he's the only one on my mind right now.
I don't know this kid. But yet I understand him.
My picture was so very detailed. From little Logan's raven spiked hair,to his tiny little face. People say that I got my artistic skills from my mother. I believe it too. The paintings around the house,show it. But yet,I looked nothing like her. I never understood why. Nor did I look alike to my father. I guess science works in a weird way,all the genetic family genes from my parents side never came by me. I have chocolate brown hair,with a tiny hint of red mixed in it. Both of my parents have light brown hair. I have dark brown eyes,parents have hazel.
It was weird. But I got used to it.
Now. Back to reality.
Logan. He knew my mom. And she knew him. Coincidence? I don't think so. The way she looked at him so fondly.
Secondly,Logan got me thinking after that. How he got all emotional in the car,and looked forlorn.
The first time we ever talked,he ended up taking me home. But before,in his car,he told me "I still remember my best friend."
That only led up to one thing.
He knows something,I don't.
And I knew that from the start.
But I'm also quite suspicious of my mother.
Only one thing left to do.
Snoop.
But I don't do that...it's wrong. I've always been known as a goody-two-shoes. Especially around my family.
I have to. I'm just looking for clues...anything to help me to find out the least bit of information of any of this.
Search.
I headed out of my room,and through the upstairs hallway into my parents room.
People in the movies always look through the drawers...
I open the top drawer of the dresser near the bathroom. Clothes. I also look under the clothes for anything. Nothing. The same with the other 3 drawers.
Nothing in the bathroom.
Nothing under the bed,or mattress.
Nothing in,on,or under the desk that held my fathers computer.
Closet?
It was worth a shot. A bunch of shoeboxes. And I looked. Looked,and looked.
There was nothing else in this room. I wasn't gonna "search" the whole house either.
I got up,an headed for the closet door,when something caught my eye. It was a box. Not a shoebox,but a square box. I bent down to pick it up. It was a plain cardboard square box. I open it,and find a bunch of papers,and pictures. I grab one of the papers,and it's not just a paper. It has writing all over it.
As I was about to read it,I hear a door close.
Moms home.
There's not way to escape this. Unless...nope. I'm stuck. I guess I'm gonna have to confront her.
Footsteps enter the room. I head outside of the closet,and it was my mother. She looked up at me,shocked. "Nicole?"
I don't answer. Especially because she saw the box.
"What is that?" she asks.
"I don't know,mom. You're the one who should know."
"Nicole,what are you taking about?"
"Look. I don't wanna get into everything,but is there something your telling me?"
She looked nervous. "Honey...I have no clue what's going on here."
"Really?" I open the box,and take out the paper I first took out. "Explain. What is this?"
"Where did you find that?" she asks. I can hear her voice is going to raise.
"Not gonna answer the question?"
"Nicole. I am your mother and-"
"And what?" I yelled. "I know you're keeping something from me. "
"Keeping what?" she yelled back.
"All I know is that you and Logan know something I need to know. Heck,my name may not even be Nicole,huh? I may not even be living in California! I may not have a real life!"
With that,my mother was starting to cry,and I stormed off into my room. I grabbed a bag from my closet,and stuffed some clothes,my sketch pad,and the box in it. I didn't bother to look at my mom,I hurried down the stairs,and slammed the door shut behind me. I looked at my phone.
2:15.
I've lost track.
I head towards a little park,a couple of blocks away from school.
What do I do now? I have no real friends I can count on right now...my best friends had moved in 4th grade. Now I know thats probably a lie...
Of course there was only one person to lean on.
I went to my contacts,and clicked his name.
After about 4 rings,he answers.
"Hello?"
"Hey..."
"Nicole?"
