foreign
language.
Once I entered my room, I
instantaneously went to my bookshelf. Once I blithely touched one
of the books, the bookshelf instantly opened up like a set of
double doors, surrendering me entrée to the pearly gates beyond my
room. This was the only memory I had left of the previous eight
months of my life. Only Elliot, Maddie and I knew about this place,
no one else. I don’t want anyone to come wayfaring around this
place.
Once I infiltrated that
place, the bookshelf quickly closed up behind me, leaving me
unaided in the darkness. I turned on the lights and took a look
around. The place was vast with plenty of space left over. The
whole room was a mahogany color with other bookshelves and tables,
almost like a library. The ceiling was really high up and had a
golden chandelier hanging from it. The room didn’t have any windows
to let the light in so you had to opt for the chandelier and the
light bulbs. All the way to the far end of the left side of the
room was an elevator. You can take the elevator to the backyard, a
place where the other entrance to the wonderland was located. The
walls had several photos hanging on it, some of them were very . .
. memorable. This place could only open with my permission; it was
almost like a secret hideout.
The room was very
uncontaminated and spacious. There was another set of doors beyond
the library. Once you went through that, with my permission, you
would have two corridors. One of them led to the kitchen, bathroom
and the dining room while the other led to the set of bedrooms.
Past the two corridors was a whole meadow-like place. The ground
was filled with freshly cut grass and had a glass ceiling so you
could look at the stars at night. There was even a set of staircase
leading up to the indoor pool and the greenhouse. The whole place
was like another house. I loved to come up here whenever I was
upset, mad or just . . . troubled by anything.
I hastily ran over to the
table with the picture of the boy and the girl. The picture was
taken in my background, last summer. It was a picture of me, gazing
into his eyes while he leaned his forehead against mine,
scrutinizing intensely into my eyes. We looked like two people in
love, but that’s not what frustrated me the most.
I could only see the side
of his face and his hair. He had curly auburn hair that fell onto
my face since he was leaning his head against my forehead. I could
still see one of his eyes which was an unwonted saturation of
blue-green. It was so beautiful and compelling, that I felt myself
craving to just nosedive into the picture. I wish that there was
some way, just some way, to remember him.
I felt my eyes burn with
clandestine tears. Then, I felt someone’s breath fanning the back
of my neck. Once I turned around, there was no one
there.
Don’t worry, Angel. Soon,
you’ll be MINE and no one else will be able to take you away from
me. NO ONE!
Who is that? The voice
didn’t sound very pleasant but instead, it gave me goose bumps; not
the pleasant kind and not the unpleasant kind. His voice was so . .
. entrancing. I quickly ran out of the place and back into my own
room where I fell asleep, crying. That night, I didn’t have a warm
dream. Just a heartbreaking nightmare, full of voices and strange
things.
* * * * *
“ Please, have some mercy,
Lord! You surely don’t want this. I know you don’t,” begged my
mother while I lay still in her arms. This was probably when I was
a baby because I’ve never even been in my mom’s arms.
Ever.
Darleen Anne Fray
Hathaway, better known as Darla, was my mother who died in a tragic
accident. Only Elliot got to see her for the first five years or so
of his life. She was about 5’10 and had strawberry red hair. She
was very slim and definitely very beautiful. She had those
signature pale gray eyes that all the ladies in her family had. My
grandmother had them; my great-grandmother had them and so on.
Elliot had even showed me a picture of her. I
language.
Once I entered my room, I
instantaneously went to my bookshelf. Once I blithely touched one
of the books, the bookshelf instantly opened up like a set of
double doors, surrendering me entrée to the pearly gates beyond my
room. This was the only memory I had left of the previous eight
months of my life. Only Elliot, Maddie and I knew about this place,
no one else. I don’t want anyone to come wayfaring around this
place.
Once I infiltrated that
place, the bookshelf quickly closed up behind me, leaving me
unaided in the darkness. I turned on the lights and took a look
around. The place was vast with plenty of space left over. The
whole room was a mahogany color with other bookshelves and tables,
almost like a library. The ceiling was really high up and had a
golden chandelier hanging from it. The room didn’t have any windows
to let the light in so you had to opt for the chandelier and the
light bulbs. All the way to the far end of the left side of the
room was an elevator. You can take the elevator to the backyard, a
place where the other entrance to the wonderland was located. The
walls had several photos hanging on it, some of them were very . .
. memorable. This place could only open with my permission; it was
almost like a secret hideout.
The room was very
uncontaminated and spacious. There was another set of doors beyond
the library. Once you went through that, with my permission, you
would have two corridors. One of them led to the kitchen, bathroom
and the dining room while the other led to the set of bedrooms.
Past the two corridors was a whole meadow-like place. The ground
was filled with freshly cut grass and had a glass ceiling so you
could look at the stars at night. There was even a set of staircase
leading up to the indoor pool and the greenhouse. The whole place
was like another house. I loved to come up here whenever I was
upset, mad or just . . . troubled by anything.
I hastily ran over to the
table with the picture of the boy and the girl. The picture was
taken in my background, last summer. It was a picture of me, gazing
into his eyes while he leaned his forehead against mine,
scrutinizing intensely into my eyes. We looked like two people in
love, but that’s not what frustrated me the most.
I could only see the side
of his face and his hair. He had curly auburn hair that fell onto
my face since he was leaning his head against my forehead. I could
still see one of his eyes which was an unwonted saturation of
blue-green. It was so beautiful and compelling, that I felt myself
craving to just nosedive into the picture. I wish that there was
some way, just some way, to remember him.
I felt my eyes burn with
clandestine tears. Then, I felt someone’s breath fanning the back
of my neck. Once I turned around, there was no one
there.
Don’t worry, Angel. Soon,
you’ll be MINE and no one else will be able to take you away from
me. NO ONE!
Who is that? The voice
didn’t sound very pleasant but instead, it gave me goose bumps; not
the pleasant kind and not the unpleasant kind. His voice was so . .
. entrancing. I quickly ran out of the place and back into my own
room where I fell asleep, crying. That night, I didn’t have a warm
dream. Just a heartbreaking nightmare, full of voices and strange
things.
* * * * *
“ Please, have some mercy,
Lord! You surely don’t want this. I know you don’t,” begged my
mother while I lay still in her arms. This was probably when I was
a baby because I’ve never even been in my mom’s arms.
Ever.
Darleen Anne Fray
Hathaway, better known as Darla, was my mother who died in a tragic
accident. Only Elliot got to see her for the first five years or so
of his life. She was about 5’10 and had strawberry red hair. She
was very slim and definitely very beautiful. She had those
signature pale gray eyes that all the ladies in her family had. My
grandmother had them; my great-grandmother had them and so on.
Elliot had even showed me a picture of her. I
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