Arke High

Chapter 81 Krista

Clarke P.O.V
We pulled up to the driveway of our home. Camilo and Charlotte hadn't spoken a single word since we left the hotel. Once we went into the house both Camilo and Charlotte went to their separate rooms to sleep, while my mother headed to work a shift at the hospital, and I was left alone in the living room. It was around two thirty-five in the morning and I didn't want to wake Bellamy with a call. He wouldn't mind me calling him at this time, but he needed sleep. My mother, Camilo, Charlotte, and I had left Denver at around ten twenty-five last night. During the plane ride Charlotte had weeped herself to sleep, and Camilo had spent most of the flight in the bathroom. My fear was that it would take them more than a while to recover from this impactful hit, life had delivered. I sighed letting myself slump onto the couch, and grabbing the control from the coffee table. After flipping through the channels twice and not finding anything to watch, I gave up and headed to the kitchen. I took a water bottle out off the fridge and chugged half of it down before going upstairs to my bedroom. I took a quick shower than slipped into my bed. As tired as I was I couldn't sleep. I tossed and I turned, but it didn't help me. I groaned into my pillow. The nights I couldn't sleep were always annoyingly terrible. My mother wouldn't be home from her shift at the hospital until around at least eleven, so that meant I had a long time to try to sleep or be realistic and do something else. I pushed myself off the bed and turned on the lamp next to my bed. Pacing around my room with only my boredom to accompany me, I remembered a certain box. A box with the initials K.R.I hadn't thought about that box since after my dream. Now here alone in my room at three in the morning the curiosity which had formed around not knowing what was in that box, returned. My curiosity was backed up by my exhaustion, and the fact that no one would know. Before I could stop myself, I walked into my mother's room and went to her nightstand. I opened the drawer and took the box, quickly going back to my room. I shut my door, and sat down on my bed with the box in my hands. That's when I remembered the wooden box had a lock. How was I going to open this? For a while I simply thought of how to open the box. I decided to just try and pick lock it; I mean I've seen people do it in movies, so it shouldn't be that hard. Setting the keepsake box on my bed, I went into my bathroom and got a bobby pin. I took off the little bud at the end of the pin, and straightened it. Then I stuck it into the lock trying to wiggle it around until I found the place where I could unlock it. After five minutes of trying I have up with a sigh. Maybe I needed to find the key. Hmm, where would that key be? It could be in my mothers room, but that would be to obvious wouldn't it? Then again, why would she try hard to hide the key? It wasn't as if she had something to hide. Plus, she didn't even know I knew about the box. I headed to my mother's room once more. I looked first in the nightstand drawer, than her walk in closet, then her other drawers, and finally under the bed. I found no key. I bit my lip thinking of where it could be and figured there was only one place left in her room to look, the bathroom. I entered her bathroom and searched the drawers finding nothing. As I walked out of the bathroom, my eye caught on a picture of my father hanging on a wall. I never thought to look if it was behind something, but it'd be weird to put a key behind a picture. I walked over to the picture and flipped it over. There, I found a beautiful key tapes to the back of the frame. I took it off, placing my dad's picture back in place and went to my room. Once in my room I grabbed the box and placed the key in the lock. I turned the key, and heard a click. I opened it and the first thing I saw was a folded, yellowed, aged envelope. After unfolding the envelope and noticed the name Krista was on it in cursive. Then I took it gingerly placing it besides me and continued to look through the box. There were many worn down photos. A couple were in black and white the others were more yellow. One portrayed a couple's kissing silhouette, another showed the same couple holding hands, there was one of just the couple's hands, one of the couple hugging(they're backs to the camera), there was one of them kissing under an umbrella, and there was also one of the guy carrying the girl. There was also a picture of just the boy. The girl had blonde hair while the boy had dark brown. I set the photos aside and saw a folded old paper. Taking it, I unfolded and saw it was the front page of an old newspaper. The headline read: 19 Year Old Boy Shot Down in Gang Fire. I looked at the picture and saw it was of the girl in the other pictures. As I realized she was crying, I frowned and began to read. My eyes scanned the page.
The Time News
Saturday May 22, 1946
Yesterday night on the twenty-first, a pair of lovers paraded around the streets gleefully they soon discovered their happiness would not last.
I continued to read, simply scanning a few lines until I found something important.
The boy at a mere age of 19 had proposed to his love, Krista Rane only days before this tragedy occurred.
I found myself gasping at this. That had to be terrible for his fiancé.
The boy had been shot 21 times from three different shooters. Minutes before the shooting, he had told Krista Rane to go inside the coffee shop, Fresh Brew, which had ultimately saved her life.
So this man saved Krista without knowing it.
The boy had been involved with this particular gang and had somewhat recently parted from that life, but as it seems there was still some unfinished business the gang had with him.
I processed the information I had received. The boy had been in a gang, and they wanted revenge. So, they killed him. A frown was still plastered on my features and my eyebrows drew together as I continue to read.
Krista Rane at the moment is not able to answer any questions. Her family is holding a memorial for her deceased fiancé. The memorial will be held tomorrow in memory of Bastian Blake.
My eyes widened and I almost dropped the page. Blake was also Bellamy's last name, but that didn't mean anything, right? Bellamy's last name came from his mother, Aurora Blake. There were plenty of other people with that las name who weren't related to Bellamy, so Bastian Blake couldn't possibly be related to Bellamy. Bastian Blake, who was killed in a gang fire wasn't related to Bellamy. I folded the newspaper, putting it aside with the other things and then I grabbed the last thing inside the box. It was a small, square, golden locket. A B was inscribed on the front, and inside was yet another photo of the boy I assumed to a Bastian. In this picture he was smiling wide which exposed a dimple on his cheek. In this yellowed photo, I could also faintly make out some freckles splattered along Bastian's nose. I could also see his dark hair curled just a little near his ears, and that he wasn't as pale as Krista. The air of familiarity which was brought upon with these small realizations, caused me to take the envelope I had found and open it. I took out the old paper inside the envelope and began to read.
May 1, 1946
My beloved flower,
I simply cannot stop myself from anticipating our next meeting. You are what they call my other half. I love you oh so very dearly, and wish to be with you every second of my life. You have bewitched me somehow, and I now think of you more than I think of myself.
I paused, feeling like I was intruding something by reading this. This was most definitely a love letter to Krista, and I felt wrong reading it. After debating with myself for a couple minutes, I continued to read.
Michael and Angel, my brother and sister, are coming to visit me next week and I would like you to meet them. I am positively sure they will love you. My sister Angel, much to my dismay, is bringing the man who has been courting her for a while now. His name is Jonathan Witt. I do hope he is interested in my sister for who she is and not just intrigued by her appearance. Many of the men whom had tried to court her were simply intoxicated by her long brown hair and dark eyes. I of course will challenge him if he tries to hurt her.
This attitude was very familiar to the attitude of a certain someone I knew. I kept reading until I reached the final line.
I must rest now, for it is late. I leave you knowing you receive all my love, and that this letter shall reach you soon. I love you my brilliant flower and I always shall love you. You are the moon which brightens my night, the stars which decorate my sky, and the water which shall come from tears if we are ever not in each other's lives.
With all my love I say goodnight.
Love,
Bastian Blake
I finished reading the letter, and thought about how Krista must've felt after receiving this letter. She must've felt like the happiest woman in the world. I felt bad knowing that at the moment she didn't know what fate had in store for the boy she loved. I began to think of all that I had just learned. This story, or at least the pieces of the story of Bastian and Krista, was tragic in my opinion. I found myself wondering what would have happened if Krista and Bastian had gotten the chance to get married. Would they have had kids? Would they have been happy and continued to be as in love as they were when they were teens? Or would they have fallen apart through the years? I doubted they would have fallen out of love, because that doesn't happen. You're either in love and you stay in love or you were never in love. If you claim to have loved someone and then days or even years later you found yourself saying your not in love with them, then you never were. It is possible to have strong romantic feelings for someone without being in love, which is probably what whoever ends up saying they loved someone but no longer do, had for that person. It's either that or they're lying because true love doesn't end. Yawning, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was slightly past four in the morning. I needed sleep. I places the items back in the box and locked. I then took it to my mother's room and put it and the key back where I found them. As soon as myself hit the pillow I was asleep.
A/N I am so incredibly sorry for the long wait. I was sick then I had school work and Im so sorry. Oh and last chapter, the idea for Glass to make an appearance was from @Im_a_little_lier
I hope you liked the chapter :). I think his story only has a few more chapters. Thank you guys for sticking with me and voting and commenting. Up there is all the stuff that was in the box.