It was supposed to be another best birthday ever for your sixth birthday.
But no.
All that greets you when you come downstairs is... your mother crying on her knees while holding a phone. In the kitchen.
What's wrong?
You slowly come closer to your lovely mom.
"Mom..?" You softly called as you tapped her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Your mother slowly looked up at you, her eyes already read and puffy, and you assumed she'd been crying for so long.
Long? But how long? Since when?
"(Y/N)... Sweetheart.." What welcomes your ears is not what your mother's voice used to be. Instead, it's full of hurt. Full of sadness. Full of...
"Mom.. What's wrong? Where's dad?" You kneel down in front of your mom, holding both her shoulders.
When she tried to explain, it all came out to be a full-blown cry once again.
Your first instinct is to hug her. And you did just that. Wrapping your arms around your mom's body. Even though your tiny arms can't really fully hug her, you hope they can offer her some comfort.
Your mother's crying has just gotten worse. Which makes you furrow your brow. You let your mother cry for you don't know how long. And after she tired herself out, she finally calmed down.
She's still sobbing quietly but now more composed.
"Mom..?" You tried to call her.
Your mom just blankly stared at you. Her eyes, once full of life, are now left with emptiness. Once full of joy, now left with sadness.
"I'm sorry, sweety. Mom needs time for herself. Can you do it on your own for today?" She finally speaks after a moment.
You look at your mom with concern but nod your head nonetheless. Agreed with what she said. It seems she really needs time to herself.
With that, the older woman slowly gets up and places the phone she's been holding for so long on the table. Then she lifelessly walked upstairs. Almost tripping multiple times on her way. Adding more concern to you.
When your mother's silhouette could no longer be seen in your sight, you turned your attention to the phone on the table.
You extended your hand to take the square thing. Only to realise it's your father's phone.
Did he forget to bring it?
Never for once in all your six years of life has your father left his phone. Never. He always brings his phone because he knows he needs to call just to make sure everyone and everything is safe in the house.
What could it possibly mean?
You tap the power button to turn on the phone only to see there's nothing in there. Not even a wallpaper; all the games you downloaded there are gone, all the contacts, even the photo album.
The photo...
You freeze in your track.
No.
He's got to be joking, right?
He just wants to do something different to surprise you, right?
Right?
Like a snap in your head, you immediately rushed to your bedroom. Your diary. It has to be something that can be explained. At least a clue. Just a little clue would help you.
You slam open your door as you go to your desk. Throwing the phone on the bed. Eyes now focus on your diary. Each of them.
From the first to the last diary your father got you.
Makarov got you.
Makarov...
Vladimir fucking Makarov.
No, that can't be. You shake your head at the thought. I'm sure it's still not the time.
I... trust him.
You frantically open all your diaries. The first one, second, third, fourth, and... the last one.
Nothing.
Nothing you write about anything on this exact year about your father's doing. That should happen still far in the future. Way into the future when you were... about twenty years old.
You shook your head, once again looking through all your diaries. Looking for any clue possible.
Anything.
At least one thing.
Please... Please... Just one...
Your hands started to shake as you kept opening each page of your diary. Trying to get into something that can lead you into the reason why your father suddenly left you.
Please...
"Please.. Anything.. Anything..." You shakily whisper to yourself as your tears well in your eyes. Threatening to fall from your eyes, but you tried to keep them as you are determined to look at each of the diary carefully.
Strategically.
Again.
And again.
Only for one sentence. Or maybe one word. Even for just your nonsense scribbles.
"Please... Dad..." Your voice breaks a little as you fall onto your knees.
Your legs subconsciously give up as you try to stand again. They refused to let you. You slowly bend down as you grab the last diary in your hand. Hugging them close to your chest. You finally let yourself cry.
Your mind couldn't grasp what was happening now. You can't recognise your surroundings anymore as your mind is only focused on your dad. Your diary. Looking for any clue possible about his whereabouts.
The feeling of your chest starting to tighten around you, not letting in any air nor letting out, your breath shortens. You tried to gasp for air, but your hands just tightened even more around your chest. Still holding your diary in your grasp.
"Mom... Dad... H-help..."
All you can remember was that darkness slowly welcomed you as your eyes flutter shut.
- - -
Word count : 913.
With love, Seven.
(edited)
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Chamber of Secrets | Ghost x Reader
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