lemon's curse h.s.

thirteen

unedited

emmalyn.

(third week of october)

I've always been a very cautious person.

I've always been known to stay out of trouble, as the obedient little girl who always does as she's told and builds impenetrable bridges between herself and any form of danger that could be lurking my way. 

And it's true.

I've always chosen to admire the roguery and mischief of the world from afar, no matter how much it fights to draw me in.

To say I'm a rebellious spirit would be out of character.

I've always believed that there's a good nature to the rules that apply to us, and they've always protected me from all sorts of harm.

Though my reasons for that belief stem from nothing but cowardice and fear. The prospect of defying the very things that stand to dominate our lives, no matter how unjust and nonsensical it may seem, is beyond terrifying to me.

All actions have consequences.

That's a motto I've lived with my entire life.

Which is why I've never let my curiosity get the best of my caution.

I've never involved myself in anything that would make me suffer from the rough consequences of it, no matter how much it thrashes to pull me in. My only goal in life has always been to go through life one day at a time and bring changes to the world wherever I can.

Which is also why it's unlike me that I've scoured the internet for any relation to the name Watkins.

My eyes have had the punishing responsibility of sitting in front of a screen for countless hours, going through heaps of different websites with any connotation to that name, reading pages of articles which give me no answers to my questions, going through any related newspaper clipping I can find.

Yet, my efforts have been hopeless.

With only the image of a bloodied face stuck in my head, and a name which I'm not even sure is his first one or last one, I guess it's safe to say that my options have been limited from the start.

But that hasn't stopped me.

I've scoured for every police record open to the public that I could get my hands on, even going as far as contemplating going down to that same police station in hopes of finding the answers to questions which keep multiplying everyday.

Thankfully, I didn't let the idea cook for too long when I remembered that a good number of cops working down there would most likely recognize me, and worse come worse, even snitch on me.

If Harry ever found out I've been snooping around like that, I know he wouldn't be happy.

And probably actually kill me this time.

So, with that option out of the window, I only had a few more left. And one of them was going through phone books and such with the hopes that I would even find the smallest of clues.

Even a middle name would do wonders.

Which is why I've been been standing in one spot for the last half an hour, in the middle of my shift, reading through the phonebook that hasn't even been updated in the last decade.

It seems stupid to be wasting my time around like this but I'm desperate.

Whatever business that Harry and the cops and that man have with each other has suddenly swallowed me whole.