The only time Mary thought she could try to catch a glimpse at the book's secrets was at night when everyone had gone to bed.
It was fairly normal for her to sneak around anyway. She would often stay up past her bedtime quietly playing in her room. On more adventurous occasions, sneak downstairs to get a midnight snack. If she was lucky, she would even be able to sneak into Ib's room during summer nights, back when Ib was normal. Mary couldn't remember the conversations they had, but she still cherished those late nights with flashlights under the covers.
Mary could only imagine what would happen if Ib found her sneaking into her room. It would probably be similar to what happened earlier that day, except with more yelling and Mary getting in trouble by her entire family. But at this point, Mary didn't care. Consequences was something the young girl still needed to grasp, but perhaps it was for the best that she didn't understand the full complexity of it now. If she had known the risks that she had put on the line, especially in regards to her already drifting relationship with Ib, she may not have dared cross the line to find some answers.
So following the hours after their quiet dinner, Mary waited. She did her homework, she played with her dolls, she doodled with her crayons. By the time her parents came to kiss her goodnight, Mary was more than ready to just burst into Ib's room and steal the journal.
But this was something that required patience, something Mary knew she lacked. That was something Ib and Dad were known for, and they had tried again and again to teach Mary how to just sit and wait, but she could never help but fidget. She paced in her room, letting her mind wander. Just what would she find in that journal? Ib was never one to write prior to the incident at the gallery. Something to do with her dyslexia, which Mary still didn't quite understand. Maybe it was doodles rather than actual writing, the two used to draw together all the time. Ib with her drawings of cute animals like bunnies and Mary with characters from her stories. It would be nice to see some of Ib's drawings again.
Mary checked the clock on her nightstand. A quarter till ten, Ib should be asleep by now. It was time to make her move.
The hallway was silent as Mary crept down toward Ib's door. Slowly, Mary turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Shadows made their places on Ib's bedroom wall, created thanks to the tiny light in the corner of the room. The nightlight was a new addition to the room, bought shortly after the gallery incident. Ib had refused to sleep in the dark, she practically panicked at the thought. Her fear was only further emphasized by the fact she would begin screaming at the dead of night from nightmares. A week of this led to the decision that a nightlight was needed, if only to give Ib some peace of mind and a chance to sleep. The visits with Doctor Vail had helped with the nightmares somewhat, but there was still mornings where Ib would come down the stairs with dark circles under her eyes.
In Mary's opinion, the nightlight only made things scarier. The shadows on the wall resembled the monsters she'd make up for stories. She thought they were fun but Ib and other kids at her school never thought the same. But if the nightlight made Ib a little bit better, than that was okay. Even if it was strange for a nine year old to have one.
Ib was asleep in her bed. Curled up tight under blankets, almost looking smaller than she was. On her nightstand, the red notebook.
Without even thinking, Mary grabbed the book and held it tightly in her arms. All she had to do now was escape without being noticed. But a sudden shuffle of sheets and blankets made her freeze on the spot.
Ib turned over. She was still asleep, thankfully, but even Mary could see that it wasn't peaceful. Her brows were furrowed and her breathing was fast. She turned over again. And again. Mary felt helpless as she watched her older sister struggle amidst her blankets.
"Garry." Ib muttered, voice tight. It sounded like she was about to cry. "Garry, wake up."
The name brought chills down Mary's spine. Who? Who was he and why is he making Ib cry in her dreams?
Clutching the notebook tightly, Mary remembered what she was doing. She gave one last look at her sister before quietly leaving and retreating back to her own room.
By the time she made it back to her bed, Mary's hands were shaking. She's never met a Garry, but the very sound of the name left a bad taste in her mouth. It made her angry even. She didn't know why. Maybe it was because it was making Ib so sad? Could Garry be the source of Ib's trouble? Was he the reason that Mary was now hated by her sister?
Mary looked down at her trembling hands, the journal still held tightly within them.
If she wanted answers, this was her best bet.
And with that, Mary began to read.
AN: Real quick can I just say I'm really happy this fandom seems to be making a resurgence. Not long ago I'd look and see the same fan art I had seen when I first discovered Ib. But suddenly there is so much new content. Not sure if I just missed something, but it's nice to see as Ib will always have a special place in my heart.