A sharp gasp tearing from her as she sat upright, clutching the covers to her chest. Trembling uncontrollably as she looked around the room in a state of confusion. She was covered in a thin layer of cold sweat. The first thing she noticed was she was on the cot in the middle of the room, but recalled falling asleep on the stairs after she had eaten. Frowning deeply and looking toward the stairs, the plate was missing, someone had come down here.
Eyes widening a little she patted the blanket and threw it aside. Looking to the floor and then climbing down to crouch and look under the bed, the glass shard was gone. Swearing and standing upright, fists settling onto her hips, glaring at the stairs. She stomped over to the staircase and climbed. Pressing her ear to the door, not a single sound to be heard.
Was she alone, or was it the middle of the night, she had no clue. All sense of time was distorted without a view of outside. How long had she been here? It couldn’t have been too long there was still a faint smell of her shampoo lingering on her curls. Storming back down the stairs, not caring anymore to be quiet.
She looked through the clothing on the floor, had they had kidnapped many girls before? That made her uneasy but somehow she knew these clothes were meant for her. So did they intend to keep her for a while? This didn’t sit well with her either, in fact it caused fear to wrap its cold fingers around her heart. How long had she been here already?
Most of the clothing was t-shirts and jeans, a dress or two. They were in colours she would normally wear, blues and greens, nothing that screamed for attention. Had they also been watching her? Holding up the one item of clothing that didn’t seem to fit in with the rest. A white gauze-like material, with a silk underdress, standing slowly and holding it against herself, suddenly wishing there was a mirror to better see.
The gauzy outer dress would drape over the shoulders and flow about her like a cloud, the underdress portion was a simple tube style dress that fell to mid-thigh. It was quite beautiful and she had never seen anything like it before, though it seemed strangely familiar. The material was as soft as it was transparent, shimmering slightly as she moved her hands over the dress. Taking great care to fold the cloth, like it was a precious treasure. Placing the item on the top of the nearby dresser, it took Lindsay a moment to take her eyes off the piece.
The house was so quiet it was almost peaceful, though not enough to forget she was locked in the basement. Sitting down on the floor near the wall of stacked boxes, there were seven in total. She decided to keep her mind busy by snooping, since there was nothing else to do down here. Nothing of interest was in the first three boxes, men’s clothing and a few pairs of shoes. In the bottom box of this first stack however, she found books, sketch pads and a leather rolled pencil holder. Pulling out one of the leather-bound books, Lindsay cracked it open only to find it wasn’t just any book.
In her hand, she held a journal, every page was filled with a stranger’s most secret thoughts and feelings. The handwriting was neat and scrolling along in even lives. Setting the journal aside, she pulled out the others. Each one was identical and every page had the same sweeping letters. Stacking them all, she counted seven in total, along with four filled out sketchbooks.
Getting to her feet once more to go through the rest of the boxes. Another two of clothing and then one of strange occult like items and a deck of strange cards, she had seen tarot before, but these were different. One was filled with blank sketchbooks, coloured pencils and oil paints. Finally, she opened the last box and found several more leather-bound books. A small smile curved her lips as she pulled them out, this is what she had been hoping for.
Settling down with her back to the wall, Lindsay opened each journal to check the date of the first entries, sorting them into order. Taking the earliest journal into her lap, she felt an odd excitement as she opened to the first entry.
Dear Journal,
It has been three days since I arrived in this strange land. This place is so strange, buildings have taken the place of nature, everything is so loud. The people are always in a rush to go here and there, never stopping to look around them and enjoy what life has given them. Today was no different, I found a place of higher learning, and students rushing from class to class with their faces buried in books, this is how I met her. At first I didn’t notice her. She was nothing special to look at, except that she ran right into me and dropped her bag, spilling its contents all over the ground while I was inspecting a rather pretty and heart yellow flower that seemed to grow wild. As I bent down to help her with her things, apologizing for being in her way, our fingers touched and I felt as though I had been struck by lightning, I looked up into her face, her emerald green eyes shocked me into silence, I just crouched there and stared. Her chocolate brown hair framing her beautiful face, those eyes so striking as they looked into mine. Heart-shaped lips parted in shock, this is when I knew she felt it too. I might not have even looked at her twice before she ran into me. Tomorrow I will look for her again, tomorrow I will learn her name. Her face won't leave my mind, I cannot stop seeing her eyes, every time I close my eyes there she is. I need to know her.
Turning the page, Lindsay gasped and nearly dropped the book as if it had burned her, sitting upright and staring at the sketched portrait. Though the woman depicted was easily twenty years younger, it was her mother. The likeness was astounding, and though no colour was used, she knew those emerald eyes as much as she knew her own.
Comments (5)
See all