In the small town of Ravenwood, where the secrets of the past intertwine with the present, strange things continue to unfold.
Hazel Fowler's diary, a seemingly ordinary artifact, harbors cryptic messages waiting to be decoded. With its secrets hidde...
On the pages of Mia's diary, I saw a picture of a lovely house. It looks big and elegant, and it seems like wealthy people live there. The rooms are filled with beautiful furniture, and the décor is luxurious.
In the picture, two women are sitting in armchairs facing each other. One of them is young, and the other is old. They have serious expressions on their faces, and it appears that they don't like each other. The atmosphere is tense, and I can even feel the dislike between them.
The young woman looks stylish, while the older woman seems more traditional. Their clothing and posture suggest a clash of generations and perhaps different lifestyles. Despite being in the same space, they seem to be emotionally distant from each other.
The diary captures a moment of discomfort and tension in this elegant house, giving a glimpse into the complex dynamics between the young and old women who, despite sharing the same space, harbor a mutual disdain for each other.
Who are they?..
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"Nora, I know everything about you," the older woman's voice was stern, as if she were a teacher with 40 years of experience in a juvenile correctional facility, "You never knew how to keep your tongue in check, and because of your so-called friends, the whole town already knows why you married my son."
"It's not a secret at all, Mrs. Coleman," Nora was not ashamed at all. She was Grace's mother! And that other woman was Nora's mother-in-law and Grace's grandmother.
"The only thing you want from him is money."
"The only advantage your son has is precisely that - money."
It was evident that the mother-in-law was not impressed with her daughter-in-law's way of speaking.
"I see..."
"Well, not entirely. I was wrong - besides money, there are useful connections."
"You're a witch, Nora."
"Exactly. And you didn't believe me, remember?"
"Should one trust witches?"
"But I passed this same gift to Grace..."
"It's not a gift, Nora. It's a curse."
"Let it be. But Grace has it, and you can't take it away from her."
"I'll drive all these nonsense out of her head when she grows up! She won't be like you."
"Unfortunately, that's not entirely something you can control. None of us chooses the qualities we're born with."
"But everyone chooses what to do with those qualities."
"And why do you think your granddaughter will choose in your favor?"
Grace's grandmother was boiling with anger. Her face flushed crimson as she looked into Nora's eyes. The intensity of the brewing storm was felt in the air. The lines on her face deepened with the strain of her emotions, revealing years of discontent.
"I know it's because of you that Tom joined the 'Raven Outcasts.'"
"I never hid that. But I don't care because in the end, we got even more money." Nora, however, remained composed, a sly smirk playing on her lips. She was accustomed to the clashes with Grace's grandmother, and the verbal sparring seemed almost like a routine for her.
"I always wanted Tom to grow up a good member of society, not a gangster."
"Seems like your desires didn't align here." Nora smirked and went out the room.
*** Next scene shows the same room, but this time there was a young man instead of Grace's grandma.
"You made me do it, Nora! You forced me to join the gang! Now we're all in danger. We might get killed!" Obviously, it was Tom, Grace's father.
Nora, feeling defensive, responded, "I told you, Tom, but you just could not to listen. Don't blame me for your choices."
Tom insisted, "You pushed me into this life! Now we're trapped, and I'm scared."
Nora retorted, "Scared or not, it was your decision. I can't take the blame for that."
The atmosphere between them was tense, filled with frustration and regret. Their words echoed the troubled dynamics of their relationship, marked by misunderstandings and the consequences of choices.
Little Grace was sitting silently in the corner of the room, her face was emotionless.
*** This time, the setting was entirely different. It was no longer the same house.
Grace was sitting in the orphanage room, absorbed in her book. The room was quiet, but outside, the sounds of other children's laughter and chatter filled the air. As the girl turned the pages, she tried to escape into the world of the book, finding solace in the characters and their adventures.
Amidst the quiet reading, muffled voices of other children began to reach Grace's ears. They were making fun of her, whispering words that stung. "She's always reading, like she's better than us," one of them jeered. The girl pretended not to hear, keeping her eyes focused on the pages, determined not to let their words disrupt her peace.
The children continued their taunts, mocking Grace for her love of books. "Why don't you talk to us, Grace? Maybe you think you're too good for everyone else," another voice chimed in. She remained silent, holding onto her book as if it were a shield against the hurtful words.
The bullying persisted, but Grace maintained her composure. Deep down, she knew the solace she found in her books was her refuge. She closed her ears to the negativity, continuing to read.