A/N: Thanks to people who read and reviewed my story! ^.^ especially you, BethIsMyName :D I nearly fell off my chair as I saw such a long review :D you really made my day (: and honestly, I didn't think I would update this fast *laugh*
Oh, and btw, can you lovely readers give me some comment on my writing? Plzz! Like if it sounds ragged or something like that :p My teacher told me to do this to practice my writing since English isn't my mother tongue, and comments from people who uses English often are even more valuable than those of a non-native speaker even though she's my teacher (she's just good on spotting grammar errors :p)
Anyway... enough of my rambling, HERE'S CHAPTER FOUR!
Chapter 4:
Outside the hospital, daylight was dying. The last light casted shadows everywhere, making everything so grey and sad. I'd never considered myself a sensitive person, but after a day full of drama, the gloomy sunset whisked up a dash of desperation in me.
Back in our house, the light were still off. Things were just as we left this morning, except for a grumpy Natharn in the armchair next to the fireplace. The basket of yarn laid in a messy heap at his feet.
"How's your arm doing?", I smirked at him.
He glared at me in return, but didn't spill a word. Mom sighed and walked over to him, "Oh dear! That arm is swelling! Let's get you to the hospital Natharn. These wounds' better be treated carefully. Can you stand up? You need to clean up a bit before we go!"
I swore that I can see halos popping up on her head sometime. After all he had done to her and she still treated him like this. If I were her, he would be sitting on the doorstep licking his own wounds, not being comforted like this. I don't wanna be mean or anything, but I hope his arm would just rot.
"I'll be in my room if you need anything. I'm just not into taking that old bastard to the hospital", I called out from the stairs. I saw mom shook her head and heard Natharn's grumble. Making fun of him sure felt nice…
.
Later in the evening, mom came into my room with a small book in her hand.
"I can't belive your mother's diary was still on the attic after so many years!", she smiled and tossed me the book. "Take some time to read it carefully, k? You might even come up with some ideas on how to find her"
I nodded. She smiled again and backed out of the door. Before it was completely closed, I saw she took a deep breath and ran a hand across her face, leaving a wet trail behind. A pang of guilt twisted my inside.
Reluctantly, I ran a finger over the book's cover. The leather seemed smooth to my eyes, but under my finger it was full of lines. They ran all over the place, twisting together the spread out as they got closer to the edge. They reminded me of the vines on the front of our house, and for a second, I thought of watering them. Then, just as quick, I shooed that ridiculous thought away. There must be something wrong with my head these days! Rubbing my temple, I stifled a sigh…
Opening the book, I found out the pages were made of white silk. The fabric was so thin and smooth that it felt like water to my skin. I was surprised that this fragile fabric could last for so long in some small corner of the attic. On the top of the first page was a neatly sewn name: "Janine Hathaway".
So… this was 'her' name. Sounded so… girly… I whispered the two words, trying it to feel the sound. As they just left my lips, the window sprang open! Gushes of cold wind pierced the room like sharp blade, carrying dead leaves and twigs into my room, and as the same time, pulling all manners of paper into a wild dance. The doors of my metal closets opened, then closed, then opened, then closed again and again, making horrible clashing sounds that seemed to echo all over the house. Lights flickered, pictures fell from the walls, posters torn off… The cold tore through my body and the thin top and shorts did nothing to shield me from it. Somehow, I managed to reach the window and closed it, but it burst open again, the stile hit me square in the face, leaving a long but, luckily, shallow cut. The blow knocked me to the ground. I clutched the wound and felt a small trickle of blood between my fingers.
On the floor, the little diary was glowing purple, the pages fluttered in the same rhythm as the swirling leaves. I crawled to it, trying to stay as close to the ground as possible. I fumbled with the silk, then with the leather cover trying to close the diary. Once it was closed, the wind just stopped and there was no other sound.
"…OR I'LL COME IN AND SHUT YOU UP FOR GOOD!"
Oops! I meant no other sound but Natharn's.
"Fuck off you asshole! Go back to your kennel!", I shouted back.
"Bitch…", his voice came again, but weaker this time.
I ignored his comment and focused on the diary in front of me. Now it seemed completely normal. If I hadn't been here a moment ago, I wouldn't have believed such a little thing almost tore my room apart! Around me were leaves covering the floor, paper slowly falling down and shattered picture frames on the ground…
I held the diary up, eyeing the cover,
"What are you, Janine…"