Chapter 3

A Waiting Shall Cease

Two weeks after her fathers death, Mira still hardly ventured to leave her room. She had literally lived in there since that tragic day and only left to go to the bathroom or get minimal amounts of food. Of course, she only did this at night as not to run into her mother or her step-father.

Lately eating had been replaced with sleeping until she surrendered to physical need. That's when she got up around two in the morning and slipped anything she could out of the refrigerator. Mostly fruit and leftovers.

She never saw her mother or Jim and she put a chair under the door handle to keep them out. Her blinds were always closed to keep out the light. She wallowed in the darkness of her room and her heart, no energy or will power to do anything.

One of those days of eternal darkness Mira thought she heard a voice, a faint voice but still there none the less. It was close but too faint to understand. She sat up in her bed and tried to locate the source of this noise.

Under her pillow? That can't be right. There's nothing under there except the book...

Lifting up her pillow slowly she saw that the book was glowing lightly around the edges.

Again she was curious. She opened the book with caution to find that all her diary pages were clear but there was writing forming on the page.

'Mira, don't be sad. I can help you, I can end your sorrow',it wrote.

Quickly Mira grabbed a pen and wrote under the message, 'how?'

'Over the past few months I've been feeding off your emotions. I learned what made you sad, what made you happy, even angry. That's also why I allowed you to use me as a diary. I wanted to know about you, learn off you. Now there is nothing left to learn. What you know, I know.'

'What do you mean? What are you talking about?'. Normally she would have felt stupid about talking to a book, in a sense. Lately though, she had been through so much that it didn't register in her mind that this was out of the ordinary.

'I think you know perfectly well exactly what I mean. Look at the calender first', it told her. The only question in her mind was why. She obeyed, however, and saw that it was Christmas Eve.

With a deers wide eyes she turned back to the book. How much did this thing know? It knew everything down to the date, that's how much. She no longer felt that this... this... thing was her only source of comfort.

'Frightened know I see...', it wrote. Then, all of the sudden vines shooting towards her wrists. She watched in horror but was too shocked to react. Mira noticed that the vines had emerged from the book itself.

'I bet your wondering just what I am or where I came from. I'm willing to share Mira, dear, unlike you.

'You see, six hundred years ago was when this story took place. My creator was merely trying to create an enchanted book that showed you the stories you wanted to see. He made a mistake, however, thus I was created.

All he wanted was to make an innocent little book to amuse the village children. I killed him when he tried to destroy me. He found my glitch of having a mind of my own and determined me to be too dangerous.

He was right, of course. But he was also mortal. I've survived through the centuries, learning and thriving off of human emotions.

I met you only because one boy was too strong for my powers. That's why he threw me in the river, and that's how I met you, dear Mira'.

Meanwhile, Mira's wrists were going pale from the books hold on her wrists. She moved her hand slightly to write on the page once more.

'Who are you? What are you going to do to me?', she wrote. She dreaded the answer but she read it anyway when it appeared.

'I'm glad you asked, dear Mira'. She wished it would stop calling her that but she had more important things on her mind. 'I am the book of feudal magic. I hold the power that humans now do not know how to conjure. They would if they believed but nobody does. Such a shame.

'As for what I'm going to do to you, well, I'm going to kill you now that you are of no use to me'.

Her only thought were based on her family. Sure she squabbled with them but... it was the books fault! It was possessing her! That's why she couldn't apologize! The damn book wouldn't let her!

She would have screamed in frustration but the book had wrapped more vines around her throat. Slowly at first they crawled, then they coiled quickly and tightened, strangling her slightly. Barely able to breathe, Mira struggled to escape from her capturer's grasp but it held strong, with some kind of magic, no doubt.

'You can't escape Mira. We both know you can't. It's really no use struggling. I wonder though. What do you think your mother's reaction will be, finding her precious little girl on the floor. No matter how much you fought with her, you still love each other. And to think, no time to say sorry'.

The book tightened its grip so she couldn't breathe. She fell back into her pillows, gasping for air. As the book sucked the life out of her, Mira saw her life flashing before her very eyes. All her memories. Then she saw the baby, her baby brother wouldn't remember her! He was too young!

'Goodbye Mira',the book wrote, though she didn't see it. It drained her life away.

She lay still, dead. No more laughter, no more playing, ...no more waiting.

Mira James' waiting had come to an end. Every story may begin with a waiting, but they certainly don't end that way. Not this time at least.